#i went to the library and picked up a couple books i’ve been wanting to read

[hopelesswrites]

Double Shot Extra Sweet part 2

Read part 1 here

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: your infatuation with Spencer grows as he takes you on your first date.

Note: I've got a small plot going on here, so part 3 is in the works!

-

“Spencer, no one's reading your math books” You sighed when the man in question walked through the door. You watched him put a book into the little library before taking one out.

“No one’s reading your old textbooks” He quipped back, a small smirk on his lips.

“You’re reading my textbooks”

It had been a month since the situation at the club. Both you and Charlotte agreed to stick to daytime activities for the foreseeable future, too cautious of predators out in the nightlife. Spencer rattled on about the statistics of being kidnapped in broad daylight and how the odds are just as likely when you told him your plan.

You had learned a lot more about Spencer in the past few weeks. He came back in like he said that following Tuesday morning and quickly explained the situation and his involvement. You learned he was a profiler for the behavioural analysis unit at the FBI and had been following leads on a human trafficking case for months.

Each day Spencer came in for his coffee your relationship grew. You asked him questions about work, and he asked you questions about your study. You learned pretty quickly, your chosen disciplines aligned nicely, and Spencer made an effort to be a somewhat mentor for you.

Spencer's phone chimed and he looked down frowning at the screen, “I’ve got a case”

“Let me make your coffee before you go, can’t have you out there un-caffeinated”

Spencer smiled “You know the excessive consumption of caffeine can disrupt sleep, cause anxiety and can potentially lead to cognitive decline, affecting a person’s memory and concentration”

You finished putting the lid on Spencer's drink and were about to hand it to him but pulled back, “Do you want it or not?” You asked with a glare.

“On the other hand, it is a natural stimulant and acts on the neurotransmitters in the brain that slows down the nervous system and causes drowsiness, in other words, this case might depend on this coffee keeping me awake”

You smiled at him this time, “Alright, genius, go get the bad guys”

Spencer had texted you that he wouldn’t be back home for a few days. By Wednesday he let you know the case was running longer than expected and that they might be there until Friday. Your heart broke a bit at the idea of not seeing him at all this week. Your crush on him had grown exponentially. Although there was that voice in the back of your head telling you just how wrong it was, he was significantly older than you, yet you couldn’t put your feelings at bay. Spencer had this way of looking at you that made you feel like there was no one else in the room, he had the most intense stare that had you melting under it. You knew you wouldn’t find someone with as pure of emotions as Spencer anywhere else, which made you want him more.

-

Friday evening you were cooking dinner when you got a call, Spencers name lighting up on your phone. Your heart skipped a beat, then a couple more beats, then caught up with itself causing your stomach to do a flip and a shiver to run up your spine. You had only ever briefly texted with Spencer, the only time you had spoken on the phone being that one night you called him after the case had ended.

Slowly you picked up the phone pressing it against your ear.

“Hello?” Your voice was weak with anxiety.

“Hey, it’s Spencer” The man said through the phone.

You laughed at his technological cluelessness, “Yes I know, I have caller ID, how are you, Spencer?”

There was a pause before he spoke again, “I’m good, tired, we just finished with the case.”

You were about to ask him how it went but he continued, “I’m disappointed I didn’t get to see you this week, did you want to go for a coffee tomorrow morning?”

“Are you asking me to cheat on your barista, that barista being me, with you?” You questioned with mock offense.

“Oh, I didn’t really think of it that way”

You thought about your next move, hoping it wasn’t too bold. “How about you come to me in the morning with a travel mug and I make us coffees, then we can visit one of the cafes downtown for a pastry?”

Spencer sighed through the speaker, “Honestly that’s a much better idea, I’m so glad you suggested that, I was stressed about drinking coffee from anyone else”

This made your heart flutter, “It’s a date then” you said instantly regretting it, it wasn’t a date, it was just coffee, why the hell would you say that?

“It’s a date” Spencer confirmed, eliciting more warmth through your body, “I’ll come around 8”

-

You were up at 6 the next morning, tidying and stressing. You had redone your hair three times now, fluffed the cushions on your couch at least 5 times, because it was a date. You had a date with Spencer nerdy dilf FBI agent Reid.

Ever so punctual, you got a knock at your door at 8 o’clock indicating Spencers arrival. You did one final check in the mirror before rushing over to greet him.

He stood so tall in your doorway, clad in a purple button up shirt and a deep purple cardigan, his normally messy hair was neatly tucked behind his ears and he had a black thermos in hand.

“Good morning! Come in” You beamed, almost getting into your customer service character. You didn’t quite know any other way to act around Spencer, obviously you were comfortable enough around him, but majority of your interactions were restricted under the barista-customer formula.

Inside, Spencer toed off his shoes and placed them beside the door, that’s when you noticed his odd socks. You smirked at the sight but decided not to go straight into teasing him so early in the morning. You directed him over to your kitchen where you took his mug and began to make his coffee.

“Do you use the same beans the café has?” He asked curiously, earning a scoff from you in return.

“Of course I do, don’t worry, it’ll be just like getting a coffee in store, I know how important your coffee order is to you.”

“I just like it a certain way and you do it that way”

You turned back to him, noticing how he was looking around your apartment, probably profiling you to filth.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me Spencer” He turned back to you offering you a small smile before you handed him his cup.

“Try it”

Spencer took a small sip, “Good?” you asked, already knowing his answer.

“Yeah good, thanks”

A wave of warmth rushing through your body, and you hid your heated face by busying yourself with your own coffee. You wondered if Spencer was even aware of the affect he had on you. How the routine that you both had created was slowly consuming you, how every tiny instance that reminded you of that first week caused your heart to swell and your affection towards him to grow.

“I thought we could go down to the spot on the corner, it’s a small bookshop with a café attached, they do the best almond croissant, and I am due for my weekly almond croissant” You rambled while you got yourself ready to leave.

“I’ve never had an almond croissant” Spencer admitted, watching you fuss about your kitchen. You stopped in your tracks turning to face him.

“Spencer Reid, you have not lived a life worth living if you have not at least once had an almond croissant, and trust me when I say, you will not be satisfied with just one”

Spencer let out a quiet chuckle while he followed you out of the apartment, “You know you would probably get along with my coworker Garcia, she’s a self-proclaimed connoisseur of pastries”

“As long as she allows me the title of almond croissant connoisseur, I’ll be happy”

You continued to walk a little further in silence when a thought popped into your head. “What are you a connoisseur of?”

Spencer took a moment to think, head facing up as if the sky had the answers before smirking back down at you.

“I’m a connoisseur of baristas”

This made you laugh out loud, “Oh really, know any good ones?”

“Yeah, just one, she’s great”

Your cheeks warmed up again for what felt like the hundredth time around Spencer as you looked at each other, a knowing look in each of your eyes. Spencer was flirting, proper flirting, and god did it do things to you.

Inside the bookshop, the warm smell of ground coffee and old books filled your nose. The owner Carly was not too much older than you. She got all her books from old library stock and donations and made all her pastries herself. You admired the little business she had built here and often found yourself here on the weekends, browsing, reading and drinking coffee.

You wouldn’t admit to Spencer that Carly made a fantastic cappuccino, liking his dependence on you a little too much.

“Morning Honey!” Carly called out, you waved in greeting before guiding Spencer over to the books, tucking yourselves away behind a shelf.

“What’s your genre?” You asked redundantly, knowing the type of books Spencer left in your own little library.

“I’ll read anything; I read a book on aviation last night”

You stifled a laugh, “Aviation, really?” Spencer only shrugged.

“I’m more of a romance type myself” you said, browsing the books.

“Was that one I read from the library box yours then?” Spencer asked, trailing after you.

“Which one?”

Spencers face heated up now, you knew exactly which one. It was less a romance and more a porn with plot kind of deal.

“Ah, that one” You spared him the embarrassment of answering.

You stopped in your tracks pulling out a rather large book. “Fundamentals of Global Air Travel Geography, care to delve further into your aviation journey?”

Spencer laughed, taking the book from you, “Like I said, ill read anything”

“Anything?”

Your devious smirk earned you a cringe from Spencer, “Probably don’t need to read another one of your romance books”

You nodded and continued your browsing, noticing how Spencer separated and started looking at a stack of old leatherbound books further down the aisle. By the end of your browse, you had a couple books in hand and Spencer had his own selection of books. You take them to the counter and Carly rings them up. Curiously you look over at Spencers book and notice one that doesn’t match the others, it was a small romance novel.

“Thought you might be interested” He shrugs passing it over to you.

You thanked him and tried to keep your face as neutral as possible, but inside you were screaming, he picked out a book for you!? This man was a fucking dream.

Once you were finished buying your books and your croissants you made your way over to the park across the street. It was a small dog park that felt a little artificial in the middle of the city, but had a couple small benches with tree cover.

 “When do you graduate?” Spencer decided to ask once you had sat down.

You sighed, hating the question. “I’ve got about another year, I transferred bachelor’s last year and had to extend my study”

“At least you found something you finally enjoy” Spencer offered, taking a bite of his croissant.

“Good?” You asked, earning a small chuckle from the man.

“Really good”

There was another moment of silence before Spencer spoke again, “Do you want to get into forensics then?”

“There's an internship I’m trying to get into, I’d be able to finish my degree by assisting in research and excavations”

Spencer nudged you with his elbow, “Good thing you know a man on the inside”

“Its very competitive” You shot back,

“Exactly” Spencer replied with a smirk.

The rest of the morning went on the same, you and Spencer chatted about his work and your study. He educated you on what he learnt about aviation and impressed you with his quick reading ability when he pulled out his new book on Fundamentals of Global Air Travel Geography. Spending time with Spencer felt so easy, you almost forgot who he was and the circumstances you met in.

Your heart felt full as Spencer walked you home and bid you a good weekend, promising to visit you at work Monday morning. He held himself with high authority around you, but remained timid enough to let you know he was being cautious. You appreciated his caution, because despite how quickly your feelings for the man were growing, you didn’t know how to navigate a relationship with him. Would he even want to be in a relationship with you?

All weekend you were stuck in your own head, questioning your own attraction towards Spencer and doubting the morality of it. You didn’t want to consider it as some forbidden romance, you were both adults and frankly, Spencer was way better than anyone your own age. But were you better for him than someone his own age? You worried yourself about it right through the weekend until you saw him again Monday morning.

He strutted in, giving you a smile with teeth, something you’ve noticed to be very rare. His smile was so beautiful, you cherished any moment you got to see it, reminding yourself how far you had come from the day he came in and couldn’t remove the scrunch from between his brows.

“The usual Dr Reid” You teased when he approached your counter.

“Yes, thank you” He replied, He was wearing a charcoal blazer and a maroon tie, a colourway on him you were very fond of.

“What’s on the agenda today then?”

Spencer fiddled with a display on your counter, straightening the sign in front of you. “I’m guest lecturing today, I’m actually a little nervous”

Your eyes softened, “You’ll do great, I know it”

Spencer perked up, “I get kind of involved in my lectures I forget I’m speaking to students who are barely listening, I’ve been told I need to be more engaging”

You frowned, unsure how anyone could find Spencer anything but engaging, but you acknowledged you were a little biased.

“You successfully taught me that the difference in pressure between the top and bottom of the wing on an airplane causes an upward force that counteracts gravity”

Spencer’s eyes lit up, “I didn’t think you were listening; you were too busy staring at my hands”

Your cheeks burned and you quickly made Spencers drink, ignoring his comment about his hands. He was either clueless or knew exactly what he was doing.

“Have a good day Spencer” You entered customer service mode again, handing the man his drink. He took it from you, taking a sip, watching you over his cup and smiling before leaving.

-

The rest of your day you could not get the thought of Spencers hands out of your head. What had he done to you? Everything about him was perfect, just so fucking perfect, he was consuming you.

The lecture chair itched through your pants, why did they have to upholster these things with the cheapest felt possible? You felt heated and agitated and could not wait for this class to be over so you could go home.

The lecturer was late, and you thought about just leaving before he showed up. You tapped your pencil against your cheek while you tried to revise the weeks content when the door opened and in strutted your lecturer.

Or rather,

Dr Spencer Reid.

[imaginedreamwrite]

Gaz’s bookish omega would buy a couple new books for her personal collection and you know that man would be so upset. Hes like why didn’t you let me pay and she’s like babe you weren’t there and there was a sale happening

He’s an observant alpha. He claims it comes from the territory of him being a soldier, a sergeant in the 141 that makes him so tactically aware. There’s a partial truth to that statement, that Gaz is just naturally observant because of his job, but it’s more than that.

Kyle is an observant alpha when it comes to one specific omega, one specific person in his life, more than any others. The way he can pick up on your mood, your emotional highs or lows, even hacks wellbeing, has made him into the best damn alpha he can be.

And it’s this observance that makes him aware that you had done something before you even know you’d let him on. The hey baby that comes from your mouth when he sets foot in your shared flat, tells Gaz more than he needs to know.

And when he comes around the corner and sees his sweetheart omega sitting on the couch with a receipt, a stack of new books and a cozy blanket, Gaz feels annoyed.

Offended, and annoyed.

“Sweetheart what did you do?” Kyle sighs and shrugs off his jacket, tossing it on the second hand armchair before he closes the distance with you. “You bought new books?”

“I’m really excited, I’ve been wanting to read them for so long. And I went to the bookstore and they were on sale-“ you speak a mile a minute, prattling on about this series you were dying to read from, the author on your long list of favourites.

“I thought we agreed that you weren’t going to buy anymore books unless I paid for them.” Gaz sinks to the couch beside you, a weary hand resting on your thigh, drawing your attention to him. “You know, since I love buying my girl the things she likes.”

“Oh.” You close the book slowly and set it aside before you shift to face him, your eyes striking him with delightful innocence and wonder. “Well you were out with friends and I thought since I was already there, and they were on sale-“

“Sweetheart,” Gaz leans into you, nudging the tip of his nose along your hairline as he inhales your sweet omega scent, “baby, baby, baby…you won’t let me buy you jewelry, you won’t let me buy you shoes or clothes or bags-“

“Well I don’t need any of that, Kyle. I have enough.” Except books, you adored reading. And Kyle swore when he bought a house, he was going to build you your own custom library. A place where you could store all your favourite books to your hearts content, a place where you could disappear to when you felt the weight of the world on your shoulders.

“Next time let me buy you books, yeah? Save the next trip for me.” Gaz cups your chin lightly, thumb grazing the side of your jaw and cheeks, a subtle and beautiful gesture made just for you. “Let me spoil my girl.”

“It’s a date.” You comply, you melt into him like he so enjoys, and all is right in the world again.

[sinnabarmoth]

Worthy of Devotion (5/9)

Pairing: Sea God|Rafayel x Worshipper|Reader (fem)

Summary: An encounter in the library leaves Reader and Rafayel reeling with emotions they don't know how to maneuver.

Content Warnings: Adult language.

Length: 2k

Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (6) (7) (8) (9)

Read on AO3

~~~

“You really need to take better care of yourself.”

“For goodness sake, Raf, it was one bad fish. You’re acting like I intentionally poisoned myself.” You were back up and moving but still taking things slow since you still needed to replenish all the fluids you lost during your unfortunate vomit festival the other day.

“You might as well have. I thought you were smart enough to know when a fish was rotten.”

“It didn’t look rotten! It didn’t taste rotten. I thought it was fine. How many times do we have to go over this?”

“I just think that you should still be resting.”

“I’ve been resting for days. If I stay in bed any long I am going to go insane. Besides, you say you want me to rest but what I think you mean is you want to use me as a pillow so you can take a nap.” You were currently in the library reordering the books. The previous system these tomes and scrolls were categorized in was baffling. Did the previous followers just stuff them wherever they could find an open slot?

Rafayel was following behind you with a stack of books in his arms. “You have proven surprisingly comfortable.”

“I think you just like that I play with your hair.”

“That as well.” he handed you another book to put on the shelf. “So what do you say? Quick half an hour nap?”

“Maybe after we finish reshelving this section.”

“Ugh.” he dropped the books and plopped himself on the ground. “All you ever do is work. Do you hate fun or something?”

“If you’re going to be dramatic can you not take it out on the books? I had those already ordered.” you sighed and started picking them back up.

“Stop working.” he grabbed you by the arm and pulled you down onto the floor with him.

“At the rate you want me to go I’ll probably have this temple rebuilt and reorganized in a couple years instead of a couple months.”

“And what’s so wrong with that? A couple years away from the noise of civilization. Just the peace and the quiet.”

“Peace and quiet? Am I supposed to get that here because there is this very whiny god that keeps coming by to disturb me.” you gave a little flick to his nose.

“And what god could this be?”

“Well he’s tall, wears a lot of jewelry, pretty lazy, doesn’t like cats--”

“Ethereally handsome?”

“Actually I was going to say he can’t win a game of Jumping Shrimp to save his life.” you smirked at his annoyed expression.

“I think maybe this god is just letting you win at Jumping Shrimp.”

“No, he’s too competitive to hand me wins. Although, with how well he plays he might as well be.”

“Hmph,” Rafayel rolled over so his back was facing you.

“And he also loves to pout.” you poked the back of his head. “Raf, come on. I was just teasing.”

He scooched along the floor to put more space between you two. You rolled your eyes and scooted after him.

“Rafayel. Look at me. Please.” you poked him again. He didn’t turn.

“If you don’t look at me I’m gonna start being formal again. So turn around.” Again he didn’t move. “Rafayel. Your Radiance. Oh God of the Seas and bringer of storms. Will you please bless your devout follower with your gaze?”

Nothing.

“You big baby, will you look at me?” you pulled on his arm to get him to turn but he went rigid and pushed back so you couldn’t move him. “Oh how very mature. I’ll get you to look at me one way or another.”

You hovered over him trying to get a look at his face. He kept turning and turning until his face was flat against the floor. You groaned. “Rafayel! You’re just doing this to piss me off now.”

“Is it working?” he muttered into the stone floor.

“Yes!”

“Good.”

“You absolute--” A torrent of blasphemy waited on your tongue to be unsheathed so you could cut this childish god down to size.

You grabbed him and shoved him with all your might until he was flopped back on his back. “Ha!” He flopped back onto his side the second you got him on his back. “Oh no you don’t!”

You grabbed him again. The two of you began rolling around on the floor as you tried to get him to look at you. You had a leg hooked over him and was trying to get him under you so he would be forced to look at you.

“Raf, can you please just--ow!” you tugged your arm free of him. “Did you bite me?”

“Maybe.”

“You want to play dirty? Fine then.” You grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked.

“Ow! Ow! Ow! Let go!” he tried to pry your hands off.

“Not until you look at me!” You tugged his head back but he rolled again, like an alligator rending its prey. “Damn it, Rafayel! We are not doing this all day!”

With a final bout of strength you flipped him to his back, grabbed his wrists, and pinned them to the floor. You sat straddled across his waist, breathing heavily. Finally! You had him! You looked at his face but he had his eyes shut tight. You dropped your head. “Do you think you’re funny?”

“I don’t know. According to my “most devout follower” I’m a big lazy baby that can’t win a simple game of Jumping Shrimp. She said nothing about being funny.”

“It is a wonder that you are considered a god.” you muttered. “But fine, you win. Don’t look at me. Never look at me again. Who am I to deserve his fishy-ness’s holy gaze. That just means you don’t get to see me give you your apology. I was going to say I was sorry but since you won’t even look at me I don’t see the point. Oh well. I guess we are to be strangers from now on.” You let go of him.

It was then he decided to open his eyes. You turned your gaze away. Rafayel sighed.

“Hey,” he said. “Look at me.”

“No. If I am unworthy to be looked upon by you then I am surely not worthy to look upon you either.”

“Yet sitting on me doesn’t seem to be an issue.” he tried turning your face to him but you squeezed your eyes shut like he had.

You felt him shift as he sat up. You tried to move off his lap but his arms circled around you, keeping you in place. His hands had decided to settle on your hips. They burned through the thin material of your clothes as if you wore none at all. “Clownfish, look at me.” he crooned.

“No.” You weren’t looking at him for an entirely new reason now.

“My little human,” he said, his voice a gentle whisper. “I’d like it very much if you would open your eyes now.”

You shook your head. You prayed that he couldn’t hear how hard your heart was beating.

He grabbed your hand and crossed it over your chest to cover your heart. “I can’t hear a thing. I promise.”

Damn it! Stop praying!

“I’m sorry for angering you and for making you uncomfortable…and for biting.” You could hear a hint of humor in his voice. “That’s not the type of god you deserve.” You felt a gentle brush of his lips against your cheek.

You forced your eyes back open and found his intense gaze settled on you. “It’s alright…” you mumbled, “I’m sorry for teasing you and wrestling you and pulling your hair. You deserve a better follower than that.” He seemed to be waiting for something.

Your hands were still resting over your racing heart. You leaned forward, your eyes traitorously drifting to his lips for just a moment. When your gaze flicked back to his that blazing fire was back in his eyes. Your breath caught.

“Cor meum…” he murmured, his face so close you could feel his breath brush against your lips.

You turned your head and kissed his cheek before leaping off his lap and grabbing a random armful of scrolls off a nearby table. “I need to go shelve these before I lose the afternoon light!” you shouted over your shoulder and fled. Fled like a coward.

~~~

Rafayel was stuck to the floor, helplessly staring in the direction you ran away.

By the tides…what was he doing?

He touched a hand to his lips. The feel of your skin against them was burned into his memory now. So was the way your legs felt straddled across him. The way your hand gripped his hair, even if it did hurt. Then to feel your own lips press to his face…

He had thought for a moment that you had a different target in mind when he saw you leaning in. He didn’t miss the way your eyes flicked to his mouth. Had he been too eager? Had you seen something that frightened you? Maybe all of it frightened you. Maybe whatever this was becoming, these feelings that grew every day between you, they were all too much.

You hadn’t asked for any of this when you decided to leave the mainland. You hadn’t expected to actually meet him or to be stuck on this island for weeks. Closer to months now. He certainly hadn’t expected to keep returning. He could have sent a number of emissaries from Lemuria to deliver you food and clothes and other needed supplies. He didn’t need to stop by almost every day to see you, talk to you, play with you. He shouldn’t have been. There were duties in Lemuria he was shirking every time he came here.

Yet the days he stayed away were the loneliest yet. All he wanted was to return to the temple and find you. To be greeted by your smile and your cheerful voice. To lay next to you, his head in your lap as your hands ran through his hair, expelling all the worries that came with running a kingdom.

When you said that he was keeping you from working, that at the rate he kept you at you wouldn’t be done repairing the temple for years. He wanted it. He wanted to keep you here. The thought that in a short couple months you could just be gone, this temple empty once again, haunted by your presence…

Cor meum.

It had just slipped out. You were so warm in his hands, smelled so sweet, and he just wanted to keep you there forever. Cor meum. My heart.

[marlsswrites]

Books and Red Hair

Ice skating AU, part 6!!

August 6th - words: 1109

First part Previous part

James would quite like to think he was extra welcome at a library, but that’s just not true. He’s clumsy, he knocks books over and can’t whisper to save his life. He’s always either too quiet or loud enough to get himself kicked out. Last time he came to this specific library, the local one to his university, he played full volume music on his AirPods - blissfully unaware that everyone around him could hear.

So how someone managed to get him back in here was a mystery, but here he is anyway.

He trailed behind Lily like a lost puppy, keeping his hands firmly to himself and not the bookshelves.

“James you look petrified.” Lily laughed out in a hushed tone.

“I’ve been told multiple times that I am severely not wanted here.” He hissed.

Lily blinked at him a few times, raising an eyebrow and flashed him an awfully unimpressed look. “What did you do?”

“Me, Rem, pads and Pete might have started a small fire in here last year.” He bit his lip to stop the smug smile from forming on his face, clearly the look still flamed alight in his eyes.

“Don’t look so proud.” She swatted his arm. “I only brought you here because you promised me a coffee after work.”

He and Lily worked in the same little record store down the street, well it used to be just records, now there’s comics, posters, collectables, CDs, everything like that honey. They’ll normally pop into a cafe after, treating themselves to a coffee before going home, but today Lily needed to grab some studying materials from the library.

“Stay here.” She said as she started to walk away.

“I’m not a child!” James protested.

“Sure!” She flashed a sarcastic smile over her shoulder as he went, leaving James with a frown on his face as he wandered through the tables of people studying, taking a seat at one of them without paying attention to anyone around him.

-

After about five minutes, he started to pick up some of the hushed whispering around him as the sound of a few people sitting in front of him hit his ears. Now he fiddled with the pages of the random book he’d swiped from the shelf and - innocently - eavesdropped after he swore he heard a voice he knew.

“Reg can you help?” A hushed female voice sounded after a few flicks of a page.

“Yeah.” A familiar voice responded. “One second Cas.”

His head slowly lifted, a smirk appearing on his face as he realised who had sat next to him.

“Hi.” He propped his head on his hands and drummed his fingers against his cheek.

The girl only gave him a confused look, she had dark shining skin, adorned with a couple of dainty tattoos and stacked jewellery that reminded him of the stuff that Lily likes to wear. But she wasn’t the one James was looking at.

“What are you doing in a library?” Regulus gave a raise of his eyebrow.

“Okay ouch, and actually I’m just waiting for my friend to finish finding - uh - whatever she needs.” He shrugged.

“So that’s why you’re reading The Great Gatsby - but specifically the blank page at the front?”

His eyes flicked down to the book, where the only words written were ‘The Great Gatsby.’

“It has some writing on it.” He proclaimed.

Regulus just hummed, no sign of emotion on his pale, blank face, yet it seemed to hold the world. His eyes like once grey clouds drowning in water, his skin as milky and smooth as a white silk pillowcase, his hair curled perfectly and dark as it hung around his face like Medusas snakes danced.

“I’m sorry, how do you two know each other?” The girl - Cas he thinks - interrupted. “Because I could swear that Regulus here doesn’t talk to anyone.”

“I talk to you!” Regulus bickered. “And Barty, Evan and Pandora.” He counted on his fingers.

“Four whole people.” Cas gasped.

Stifling a laugh, James simply watched as the two went back and fourth, clearly playfully as they argued. Still, Regulus looked beautiful with a scowl, even better with a smile though. Even better while he skated, face stoic and wondrous, face on full display and body moving like a puppet controlled by the god of love herself.

“And me.” James smiled and battered his eyelashes, Regulus pointed and nodded.

“You never answered my question.” Cas pondered, looking between the two boys suspiciously.

Stuttering out an answer, James realises he didn’t actually have just one.

“Tried to buy a book, stalked me, stalked me again, and is apparently friends with my brother and my coach’s son.”

“Hey now, I didn’t stalk you. I-“ But he cut himself off when he saw the slightly smiling face of Regulus Black - covered slightly by his baggy sleeve - but still there. The end of his pen was placed between his teeth and a silver glint on his tongue catching the sun and shining like the star the paler boy is.

“I know.” He shook his head, still smirking slightly as he moved the pen to his page, scribbling slightly and leaving James to stare at the way a ring was slid onto every single pale finger, shining bright and jewelled - as he said - like the star he is.

-

Stretches of comfortable quiet later, he felt a hand tap his arm as the silence surrounded him. “I’m done.” Lily smiled and held up the books and couple of bookmarks up with a squeal. “You owe me a coffee, let’s go.”

“Right.” He looked between the redhead and the other two, Regulus’ head still in his book but the once cal, expression had been covered by one of tension and thorns sharp as daggers. “Bye!” He waved as he and Lily left.

“Yeah, bye.” He heard dully before he walked away, the sunlight splashing in on him as soon as he stepped outside, blinding his eyes and burning into his skin.

“I bought my girlfriend this,” Lily waved up a little flowery pin that she’d picked up from the library store she’d insisted on looking in seconds beforehand. “Isn’t it adorable.”

“The cutest.” James winked with a smile.

Yet he still couldn’t get the anguished expression of a star from his mind, burning holes into the once bright irises of his eyes, stabbing into his once radiating heart. Oh what he would do to wipe it away with one quick swipe of love, leave that smile on his face that he seems to feel the need to hide.

Someone like Regulus Black shouldn’t be hidden, he’s much too special for that.

Next part

[midmourn]

good 4 u

title good 4 u

pairing lee donghyuck x gender neutral!reader

characters lee donghyuck, mark lee [nct] yoo jimin/karina, uchinaga aeri/giselle [aespa], kim seungmin [stray kids], jeon heejin [artms, ex-loona],

summary it’s all thanks to you that haechan is doing so great.

warnings angst

word count 1640

a/n last fic to the sour series!! next is guts series ;) if you have a song in mind for a dream member, lmk!!

“Egoistical.”

“Jerk.”

“Fuckboy.”

“You really know how to pick ‘em, don’t you?” Seungmin hummed as he took a bite of his sandwich. You rolled your eyes, ignoring him and turning back to Giselle and Karina.

“Ignore him,” Giselle scoffed, side-eyeing him before saying, “OK. Continue. What else?”

Karina snapped her fingers, getting an idea, “Name his icks!”

“Oh, God,” you sighed, putting your head in your hands. “How he’s a fucking gamer. He would be on that game twenty-four-seven!”

“Immediate red flag,” Karina said, patting your shoulder as you groaned, slumping over the table. “Are you sure you're not colorblind, Y/N?”

“More like just dumb,” Seungmin pushed your bowl of salad closer to you, bumping it into your head. “Eat.”

“I don’t think I can,” you huffed, “I see him next period. I’m afraid I’ll throw up.”

“Ooh, throw up on him!” Giselle said excitedly with Karina nodding in agreement.

You threw a look at her, “I will not! No matter how funny it would be, I’d be so embarrassed.” Seungmin stiffened next to you, making you glance his way and see that he was glaring at something in the distance. You follow his gaze and feel your mouth dry, blinking as you stare at the scene in front of you.

Here was your ex-boyfriend, only being broken up for two weeks, throwing his arm over some girl you vaguely recognized from your English literature class. Heejin, you thought her name was. He looked good, way too good for someone just broke up with someone who they supposedly wanted to give the world to.

You thought for a split second, that maybe, just maybe, they were just friends. And then his head turned to plant a kiss right on her lips and every hope you had left shattered.

“Two-timer,” Karina added bitterly to your conversation from earlier. You swallowed roughly, tearing your eyes away from the scene. You briefly registered the feeling of Seungmin’s hand resting on your knee, squeezing once in comfort. You don’t know if your eyes teared up from the sight of Haechan and Heejin, or from the once-in-a-lifetime kindness from Seungmin.

“There’s no way he wasn’t,” Giselle gaped at the sight. “In a couple of weeks? Cheater.”

“Fuckboy,” Seungmin repeated, stressing the word. He stood up, shoving the last bite of his sandwich in his mouth and pulled you up with him. “C’mon, we’re skipping class. He better hope we don’t see each other off campus.”

Your head perked up slightly at the sound of a familiar voice, watching Haechan and Mark Lee walk around the corner, neither noticing you in your corner of the library. You were surrounded by your textbooks, studying for your upcoming test in literature.

“—But yeah, this therapist I’ve been seeing, I can totally hook you up with her,” Haechan was saying, patting Mark on the shoulder as they went to a bookshelf. “She’s great, helping me work on myself to be better. For Heejin.”

You were the one who got him in touch with the therapist. Your fists clenched.

“Cool. Wait, dude, what? I thought you couldn’t refer me,” Mark said in confusion, scanning through the titles of the books.

“No, Mark!” Haechan shook his head, adding an unnecessary whine to his voice, “I think that only applies when you’re the therapist, can’t have any patients with, like, personal ties.”

“Oh,” Mark dragged out the second letter, nodding his head and coming to a stop on a book. “Hey, found it. Let’s go check it out.”

“Ms. Jang loves you more than she loves me, you do it—”

“Because I don’t defile her sacred place with all your sins—”

“Sins! What else is the library meant for? Studying?”

“Definitely not making out and going to third base—”

Their loud voices faded away the further they got. Your pencil lead broke, making you blink in surprise and turn to it, seeing you had been gripping the pencil so hard onto your paper that it made a harsh mark on it and broke. You unclench your jaw and look back down at your paper as a drop of liquid hits it, staining it.

The feeling of wetness on your cheeks made you inhale and exhale unevenly, trying to calm your breathing. You blinked away an onset of tears, thinking back to last night when Seungmin finally left your dorm. As soon as you reassured him that you were OK, he reluctantly left and when you were sure he was gone, you burst into tears.

Instead of bothering your roommate with your crying, you hid in the bathroom for almost the entire night. Being pathetic, looking at your gallery full of Haechan and crying.

You swiftly wiped under your eyes as Giselle and Karina entered the back of the library, beelining to your corner. They didn’t need to know.

“Woah,” a classmate from Linguistics gaped as Haechan pulled into his parking spot, in his shiny, bright, new Tesla. “A Tesla! That shit’s crazy.” He turned to his friends to either talk shit about Haechan or praise him. You hoped it was the former.

“Where the hell did he get money for that?” You spat under your breath to Seungmin, who crossed his arms and shook his head in reply.

“I heard he got accepted at that internship,” Giselle crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at the boy as he stepped out of the car. “That one he’s—”

The one that you helped him study for?

“He got money from that?” You scoffed, glaring even harder as Heejin stepped out of the passenger side. The two joined hands, walking off without even a glance your way. You were seething by now. You wanted to strangle him so bad. “No way. He’s gotta be, like, in the mafia.”

“He’d die in seconds because of that mouth of his,” Seungmin snickered.

“I hate him,” you huffed, storming off into the opposite direction. Your friends followed dutifully as you rambled on about your ex-boyfriend. “He doesn’t even look my way! It’s like we weren’t in a relationship for a whole fucking year! And I’m the reason he’s doing so better; that internship? I helped him with it! What the fuck?”

Haechan discarded you like he was bored of you, even after an entire year of dating. That was partly the reason why it hurt so much; did you really mean nothing to him?

His sweet words, touches that seemed to burn you everywhere. He left a mark on you like no other. You didn’t know if it would ever fade away.

You were back in your spot in the corner of the library, far away from the librarian, Ms. Jang. Your books were closed, put away. You just needed some space to think, and then it turned into a silent crying session after getting too far into your memories with Haechan. You were just lucky that no one had come to the back yet.

It was only a moment later that giggling filled your ears and you rolled your eyes so hard you thought they were going to fall out. Of course, you had to jinx yourself. There was no way you were staying to witness a happy couple make out in what they thought was an empty corner. Groaning under your breath, you go to collect your textbooks and folders, only to stop midway once you recognize one of the giggles.

Despite not wanting to, you slowly looked up to confirm your thoughts. Right in front of you was Haechan and Heejin, the boy peppering kisses all over her face with a lovestruck grin on his face.

There was a loud crack, but it seemed like you were the only one to hear it. Your heart clenched painfully in your chest, chest tightening as it got harder to breathe and see. Tears clouded your vision, but you could hear Haechan’s next words loud and clear.

“I swear, you’re like the only one that gets me,” he whispered seriously. He said that same fucking sentence to you.

Your eye twitched. That was the last straw. You stood up, chair screeching as it slid back against the marble floor and shoved your books in your bag clumsily. You could barely see, but you knew that they were looking at you.

You wiped under your eyes harshly, blinking back the tears as you sniffled. God, you hoped he couldn’t tell you were crying. That would be so embarrassing.

“Y/N,” Haechan said your name softly, almost in an apologetic way but you knew he wasn’t truly sorry. Instead of acknowledging him, you shoulder your bag and swiftly turn to walk past the couple quickly. Your hopes die as he grabbed your arm as you went to walk by him.

“Hey,” he said softly. “I—I didn’t know you were here or—”

You turned to him so swiftly it startled him, glaring straight at him and ignoring Heejin, “Oh, yes you did. You know that this is usually my spot. You came here on purpose to try and make me jealous. It’s pathetic, really. Having a new relationship yet here you are, basically chasing after your ex, trying to get my attention.” You turn to Heejin, who looks at you wide-eyed, and a bit of hurt at your words, “I truly do feel sorry for you, Heejin. He isn’t the boy,” you spat the word out, “—you think he is. He’s a liar, and I bet you he was talking to you when he was still dating me.” Your head turned to him slightly, “People don’t change. Especially people like him.”

“But, you know what,” you chuckled breathily, “Congratulations, Haechan. You seem to be getting everything you want. Good for you. But you should really be thanking me, because I’m the fucking reason you’re doing so well. Fuck you.”

sour masterlist. main masterlist.

[schoolspiritsfan14]

You Belong with Me 💙🏈📖

Wally Clark x fem reader Y/N slow burn story

Part 13:

A/N this part contains talks about sex (no smut just yet)

Summary: its Christmas and you try to find the perfect gifts for everyone including Wally, as you reminisce about Christmas of the past with your families. And you and Rhonda share secrets.

6 weeks later…

It’s been nearly 4 months since your deaths and its almost Christmas. Janet as informed you that they have a party and exchange gifts. You have spent the last couple of weeks getting everyone gifts trying not to think about that its your first Christmas since your death and also the first one without your family. The others were easy to get gifts for. You made Dawn a bracelet with things you found around the school with a 70s vibe you know she’d love. You found an old scientist book and worked to fix the broken pages to give to Janet. A kid dropped a new pair of Ray ban sunglasses that you thought Tommy would like. For Rhonda you were stumped for a while until you found a Walkman filled with songs from the 50s and 60s. The only person you were struggling to find a gift was for Wally. You’d actually already made his gift; you were working on it all year. It was a scrapbook filled with polaroids of you and him, on the holiday to Milwaukee, when he went to Minnesota for an away game and countless of other photos of you and him together. You worked so hard on it for so long that you are sad you will never be able to give it to him.  You wanted to give him the perfect gift. Wondering around the school when you noticed a storage room door that was unlocked. Weird you thought this door is always locked, you open the door made sure no one was around, you went in, shut the door behind you and turned the light on, to only see the room filled with yours and Wally’s belongings. This is the stuff your parents brought for your memorial; they mustn’t have picked it up. You look around the room and peeking out of a box was your scrapbook. Excitement washes over you. You didn’t even realise it was at your memorial and now it’s here to give to him. You exit the room making sure no one was there; you crept out of the room and went to the art room to find some paper to wrap it. You can’t believe your luck that you found it; I can’t wait to give it to him. You thought as butterflies swirled around in your stomach the nervous and the excited kind.

A week later and it was Christmas, a day you are normally so excited about for, you are sad. It was the first Christmas without your family. Right about now, Mary would be waking you up excitedly and run downstairs to open your presents and then you would get organized for Christmas lunch. Since your extended family live all over the country, you would have a small family lunch with Wally’s family. Memories of past Christmas’ fill your head as tears stream down your face, you wish you could be with them. You hadn’t even noticed Wally was sitting beside you on the couch in the library. “Merry Christmas, Darling.” He says when you finally acknowledge he was there. “Merry Christmas Walls.” You say as you wipe your tears away. “I know I miss them too but we at least we have each other, the others don’t have their friends and family.” He says back softly. “Yeah, your right I’m sorry it’s just hard. I um actually wanted to give your gift to you without the others if that, ok?” you ask moving your body to the side and crossing your legs on the couch. “I actually was going to ask you the same thing.” He replied.

 You hand him your gift as he unwraps it and a wide smile spreads over his face. “How did you do all of this?” he asked as he flipped through the pages. “I actually finished it the day before we died, and my parents must have brought it for the memorial. I found a storage room with the stuff from the memorial our parents mustn’t have picked it all up yet.” You reply as he continues to go through the scrapbook. “This might be the best gift I’ve ever gotten. Now we can see photos of our families whenever we want.” He says as he embraces you in a hug. “Thank you, Y/N, now open yours” he says as he hands over a small box. You open the box and see a beautiful gold pendant necklace, the same as his, engraved with Darling on the back of the pendant. “Walls, this is so beautiful. Where did you find this?” you ask as you put the necklace around your neck. “I found the storage room too and my mum must have brought this with her. I got this for you a while ago too.” He responded. “I love it, thank you.” You say as you give him another hug. “You know maybe we should go back in that storage room and get more of our stuff.” You said as you let go of the hug. “Oh, absolutely I mean when we pick things up its just a copy, the real stuff will still be there sour parents will know that no one has taken anything.” He says. “How about we check it out after the Christmas get together with the others?” you ask as he nods his head and walks to the library door and to the teachers’ lounge.

In the teachers’ lounge you all exchange gifts and eat food that Tommy took from the cafeteria. “What Christmas traditions you both have?” Janet asks as she bites down on a chocolate chip cookie. “Well since both our extended families live all over the country, our families normally get together and spend the whole day together.” Wally replied. “We would have lunch and then we would go out in the snow for the whole afternoon. My sister and I would team up against Wally in a snowball fight and of course we would win-““because its two against one and Mary has a mean throw” Wally says butting in as you and Janet laugh. “What if we do a snowball fight on the field? We can find some warmer clothes in the theatre.” Tommy adds. “I’m in. I can’t think of nothing more fun than throwing cold snow at you.” Rhonda says as she gives Tommy a mean look. You wondered what that was about, they were close at the Halloween dance.

Excitement fills your body. A day you thought would be so hard may turn into one of the best days you’ve had since you died. You all pile into the theatre storeroom and found some warm clothes and head to the football field. As you head out to the field you held back Rhonda, “Hey what was that going on between you and Tommy?” you asked knowing she will properly snap back and not say anything. She stops walking and says “I thought he liked me, but he was just using me for sex because he was horny. I should have never said yes when he asked.” She replied. “Shit that’s awful, I’m sorry he did that. Like what the fuck dude? Just jerk off to yourself if your horny like we all do.” You blurt out before you can even realise what you were saying. Before you can correct yourself, Rhonda says “And what’s got you all horny. It doesn’t have to do with a certain tall person with chocolate eyes does it.” “Shush” you say as everyone else isn’t that far ahead. “Ok, yes I like Wally. I’m actually in love with him.” You reply. “Yeah, I know it’s so fucking obvious, we all know it- well maybe expect Wally.” She says “And he’s not going to know, not yet anyways I don’t want to jeopardize our relationship when we are stuck here. What if I say I’m in love with him and he doesn’t back, I can’t lose him Rhonda I just can’t.” You say almost crying “Ok, chill Hun. It’s not a big deal” she says “It is to me. He means everything to me, and I can’t do whatever this ‘in between’ thing without him. Please don’t say anything, I’ll even throw all my snowballs at Tommy’s face for what he did” you respond. “I won’t but leave all the snowballs to me, I want to through them at his dumb face.” She says as you both laugh as you walk to the field. The game starts and the first one to throw a snowball was Rhonda in Tommy’s face, you both laugh as you continue throwing snowballs at each other even Mr Martin was joining in. for what seem like the first time in a really long time the other ghosts aren’t miserable on Christmas, they are having fun and you can’t help but feel joy seeing everyone enjoy themselves.

As the game finishes Janet comes up to you pointing towards your necklace. “That’s beautiful, Y/N where did you find it?” “Wally gave it to me for Christmas. We actually found a storage room filled with our things from our memorials that our parents haven’t picked up yet.” You reply. She reaches towards the necklace stopping before she touches it, waiting for your permission too, you nod, and she takes closer look at it. “It’s matching the one Wally has, right? And he engraved it too.” “Yeah, he has always called me Darling for as long as I can remember, and I have always liked his necklace, so he got me one to match.” You say while looking around you to make sure no one else was around. “I think that is the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.” She says as she lets the necklace go and hang back around your chest. “Have you given anymore thought about telling him how you feel?” she adds as she slips her arm around yours, linking you together. “Not yet, Rhonda thinks I should too but, I don’t know it’s hard” you say to her. “Oh, Rhonda knows too?” she questioned. “Yeah, I accidently blurted it out when I was comforting her about something.” You respond. “Anyways, she promised not to say anything. I want to really weigh the pros and cons of it all. Like yeah, we may be here forever and being with him for God knows how long, would be fucking incredible but also it could end in disaster, and I lose my best friend.” You add. Janet nods and embraces you in a hug. You were glad she was your friend, Rhonda too because you don’t have to bottle in your feelings anymore.  

Part 12 Part 14

TAGLIST: If you want to be added to the taglist let me know

@unholypsychic @lyinginthegingerlocks @manualamadrugada @arsonfish @abstractpenny @lifeiscomposedofnows-blog @97buttons

[mmgceramics]

sorry if this has been asked before, but how did you get into greek historical (?) pottery:o

Thanks for the ask! I went a bit long, so I hid most of it under the cut. And let me know if you (or anyone else is invited too!) have any questions or want some clarification. I think I set myself off on some tangents 😅

TLDR: I like making narrative art, and I like piggybacking off of known quantities (characters, patterns) and the preconceptions that come with them. I try to construct my art in a way that everyone can get something out it from their previous experiences, from the classics students following me here to the guy at a show who asked me how I got into Egyptian stuff.

An unedited bullet point stream of consciousness below. Heads up: it does get a little biographical. ⬇️

Pottery:

* I am from central North Carolina, which has a rich tradition of pottery. My mom was born and raised in Seagrove, which is like the Mecca of American folk pottery.

* I was always the artsy kid, so my mom would talk to me often about the basic principles of design and the kind of thought that went into art when we were in museums. During those talks, I gained a great appreciation for technique and skill.

* Once I got around to trying my hand at pottery, I fell in love with the process of thinking about not only those principles of design but also function. Imagining how a teapot handle will feel as you carry it versus when you pour, and how to make it look good.

* Side note: I think a lot about function, even in things I know will not truly be functional. I’ve got a Medusa rhyton I need to photograph, but I played with function a lot and really enjoyed it.

Greek/Historical

* I was raised atheistically by two agnostics in a very conservative area in the southern US. Because of the area and the world writ large, they recognized the importance of teaching us (me and my siblings) at least a little about a whole bunch of religions so we wouldn’t be completely out of the loop about what our schoolmates had going on, and as part of teaching us about multiculturalism (I also come from a very diverse family, so pluralism is important for us in a lot of ways).

* Like many a person my age, I grew up on the Percy Jackson books. Before that, though, I knew some of the myths from lessons with my parents, then books I’d check out of the school library to go deeper.

* Now I’m not as formally educated as I’d like to be (I think I want to go back to school, but that’s another post 😅), but I took an ancient literature class in college that was pretty much Gilgamesh, first couple chapters of the Old Testament, then we did the Odyssey and a few Ancient Greek plays.

* I’ve always enjoyed literary analysis, so the depth with which we went into these texts really awakened me to the joys of storytelling (I was far too anxious in high school to really get into it and recognize the fun in it). It felt like a magic trick to weave layers together to create a narrative, not knowing but still trying to anticipate and control how many or which of those strands would be picked up on, or how select strands would play together in the crucible of the audience’s mind.

* For one assignment, we were sent to the Museum of Fine Art, which has a fantastic collection of Greek pots, and I was in a Romantic mood, but sitting in that room, surrounded by pots, writing up that assignment? I loved the way thinking felt in there, if that makes sense.

* Unfortunately, I’ve got a handful of mental things going on, so I had a lot of trouble getting to class, which is important for grades, I’m told. I’ve grown quite a bit since I last tried school, but anyways, another post.

Back to Pottery:

* I took my first ceramics class a little while after I left school (COVID pushed this to 2021). I absolutely loved it, and I reached out to a pottery to see if he was hiring. (Doe Ridge Pottery)

* He was, so I worked there for the rest of the year. My job was primarily manning the front counter, but I was helping in the studio whenever there weren’t any customers. I learned a lot, especially about little finishing details that make pots just a little more done.

* Again, mental stuff, so I had to quit and was out of the pottery world until 2023, when I took ceramics 2. Learned a lot again, and really fell in love then. Winning best in show at the end of semester art department show didn’t hurt 😄

* Turns out, one of my high school classmates’ moms runs a little community studio, so I got in touch with her, and I’ve been there ever since: making, teaching, and helping out!

[cassiecourtemanche]

This is the first thing i’ve ever written so tough criticism please! 🙏 I need to know if you enjoyed it and if i should continue it:)

DeanXReader (suffers with depression and anxiety) 18+

“dean?” you called out walking down the hallway of the bunker towards the library. As you approached the library there was still silence. “Hello??” You called out but still met with nothing. You reached into your pocket and grabbed your phone dialing deans number. No answer. You started pacing the hallways of the bunker wondering where he may be. The panic starting to rise in your chest, you kept trying to call him but still met with radio silence. “Where the fuck are you?” You mumbled to yourself still wracking your brain thinking if he had told you or not.

All of a sudden you heard the door open and slam and made you jump in your place. “Hey sweetheart.” Dean walked down the stairs and met with you in the library bags in hand. “Where have you been?” The panic evidently clear all over your face. “Grabbing supplies, I thought I told you last night i had to go out this morning.” He said placing the bags on the table and walking over to you. “I don’t know.. i guess i forgot.” You said clenching your jaw, you seemed to forget almost everything nowadays. “Hey I’m here now what’s going on?” Dean furrowed his brow slightly at the look of concern on your face. “Uh, nothing, it’s nothing.” You braced for his stubbornness to push but he didn’t. “What did you end up getting?” you said trying to change the subject not wanting to sound anxious. “Just grabbed some food, the usual.” Dean said as he shrugged his shoulders. “Oh okay.” you started to walk away but he wasn’t letting you get away that easy. You felt his hand grab your wrist “Y/N, what’s really going on?” He said softly as you turned to look at him. Damn him and those beautiful green eyes, why did he have to look at you like that? “I don’t know, i just didn’t remember you telling me.” you said as your face fell. “Hey,-“ he started his hand letting go of your wrist and bringing it under your chin so you’d look at him “It’s okay to forget sometimes sweetheart, is that all that’s bugging you?” He said his brows furrowed as the worry was evident on his face. “Yeah” You said with a fake smile “I’m just gonna go read for a bit.” As you walked off and into your room, dean stood there somewhat lost, not knowing if he should go after you or let you be. He decided to give you some space and stayed in the library, seeing if you’d come back out of your room. A couple hours went by and you still haven’t emerged.

“stupid stupid” you whispered to yourself as you sat on your bed with the book in your hand. It was more of a decoy than anything else, wanting a distraction from the anxiety rising in your chest more than anything. You couldn’t stop your mind from spiralling, as you sat on your bed it felt like the room was closing in on you. The weight of everything you’ve endured in your life just started to crush you. The thoughts, the urges, the self destruction, it was overwhelming. You took a few deep shaky breaths as you tried to calm your racing mind but it wasn’t helping. How dean had saved your life from an abusive ex, to sam being there for you when he’d be on hunts. You felt like such a burden to them but the thoughts where to much. You sat there frantically trying to get ahold of yourself but it was becoming to much, something just snapped inside you and you threw your book as hard as you could across the room. Dean had heard the loud thump from the library and instantly got up and ran to your room “Y/N? What’s going on sweetheart? Can you open the door?” He said as calm as he could, as he knocked. You couldn’t bring yourself to get up out of your bed everything was just too much, you started to sob and panic. “If you don’t open the door i’m gonna pick the damn lock!” He said starting to panic as he heard your sobs through the door. You had your knees up to your chest, your hands covering your ears trying to drown out the thoughts. Dean frantically searched through his jacket trying to find his lock picking kit, finally he found it and started “Sweetheart, just talk to me please” He said as he was fumbling with the tools and the lock. All you could hear was the muffles through your hands as you pushed tighter against your head, the sobbing and panicking just kept getting worse and worse. Dean finally got the door unlocked after what felt like an eternity, he opened the door and felt his heart shatter at seeing the state you were in. He rushed over to the bed and sat down beside you “Hey, hey it’s okay, just breathe Y/N” he tried pulling your hands away from your ears but you where to stubborn. “You need to breathe.” He said starting to get really worried now, this isn’t the first time deans had to deal with you and your panic attacks, and it broke his heart every time. “Please” He tried taking your hands away again and this time you let him, he held onto your wrists “Hey, just take a couple deep breaths for me.” You tried listening and taking a few deep breaths but they came out short and shaky still. “Come here sweetheart” He said scooting closer to you wrapping his arms around you. You just started to sob in his chest, “Just let it out, it’s okay” he said as one hand started running through your hair.

Eventually you started to calm down, and the room fell somewhat quiet besides your sniffles. “You wanna talk about it?” He said still holding onto you. You shook your head no against his chest. Dean let out a sigh “Well you know you can always talk to me. Me or sam whoever’s around, right?” He said in a somewhat comforting but stern voice. “I know..” You managed to let out quietly. He felt his body somewhat relax as you spoke, even if it was just two words. “You know we are always here for you right? No matter the day, or the time. You can come to us, with anything.” He said as he kept his hand running through your hair in a comforting way. “I know, dean.” You said as you nestled your face into him more. “Sweetheart… Can i ask you something?” He said with a stern but worried voice. “Of course.” You said muffled into his chest. “I need you to look at me.” He said with his hand going under your chin to tilt your face up to look at him, his heart ached, seeing your eyes red and puffy and your cheeks tear stained. “I need you to be honest with me.” He started, you just stared into his eyes. “Has it been getting bad again?” He asked like he didn’t want to hear the answer to that. All you could do was nod as it broke your heart that you’d worry dean. “Y/N, you need to speak to me so i can help you. You need to tell me how bad it’s getting, on a scale from 1-10, at least.” He said with worry written all over his face and in a stern tone. “You don’t wanna know.” you said quietly, letting your head fall back on his chest. “Sweetheart, yes i do. I’m worried about you.” He said running his hand through your hair again trying his best to comfort you. You took a deep breath and said “9ish” quietly. His hand stopped and it sounded like he stopped breathing “Y/N, it’s that bad?” He said trying not to sound to worried. You just nodded against his chest as he held you, his arms wrapping tighter around you. “I’m so sorry sweetheart, i’m here if you need to talk about it, and please, please for the love of god, don’t listen to any bad thoughts in that pretty head of yours. Please.” He sounded almost broken as his words sunk into your mind.

[mac-cheez]

My Guide to Surviving the Waynes

This has been sitting in my drafts for a while and I finally finished the ending!! Don't expect an update soon I have no idea when the fancy will strike again and the TMA brain rot is real rn.

Pt. 1 Pt. 2

---------------------------------------------------------

Dear Diary,

I was wrong. SO WRONG. You’d think rich people, especially adopted rich people, would be at least a little sane, but no, they’re not and I have no idea how to deal. It’s only been a couple days since my last entry and so much has happened. So here’s what I’ve learned:

Let’s start with the first incident that happened roughly 10 min after my last entry. I had just finished when Tim offered to meet me in the coffee shop outside of the library (he was picking me up from campus)(Alfred was busy). When I walked in I saw him about to order and walked to the side to wait. He looked at the menu for roughly 0.2 sec before looking the barista dead in the eye saying “I’ll have a Vanilla Cold Brew with seven shots of espresso.”

The barista laughed and joked “Damn you want some cocaine with that?” Then he just said, “Sure that too.” and fucking walked away? He didn’t even give his name he just paid and went straight to the pickup area. The most concerning part of that story is that they fucking did it! And he drank the whole goddamn thing without batting an eye! I was highly concerned for his well-being the entire drive home. (I really need to talk to Mr. Wayne about a rental)

What’s even weirder is when we walked into the manor Dick was just hanging from the chandelier. It was sans rope and more acrobatic, but still concerning considering how tall the ceiling was. I’m still not entirely sure how he got up there, but I just walked away hoping to find my sanity once again.

The rest of the day went relatively smoothly with the normal amount of yelling and death threats (still can’t believe this is reality). The next day something actually nice happened while I was off from college and heading to the kitchen for lunch. It was a Friday so most of the house was either at work or school, and it was pretty quiet (thank god). When I walked in one of the others was in there cooking already (Jason I think?). I decided on a sandwich since he was currently using the stove and it was going smoothly till I got to the pickle jar. For whatever reason that thing was tight as hell and was going nowhere. He looked at me and after my fifth try (and many curse words) he held out his hand. I handed the jar to him, and he opened it without trouble.

“I loosened it,” I said trying to hide my embarrassment.

“Uh-huh,” he said distractedly. We sat in awkward silence till I noticed one of the books from the library on the counter. It was Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s The Sign Of The Four. I asked if he was reading it and he said yes. I asked him if he’s gotten to the twist yet and he looked at me puzzled.

“You’ve read The Sign Of The Four?”

“Yeah, not my favorite Sherlock Holmes Novel, but still good nonetheless,” I said not paying attention, “Are you reading unabridged or abridged?”

“Unabridged,” he said, “you into the classics?”

“Totally, I love a good Victorian mystery or gothic horror novel,” I replied.

“You?” I asked.

“More of a Jane Austen fan myself, but I can respect those choices,” he said thoughtfully.

“I’ve never read her works, but if I have a chance I wouldn’t mind trying,” I said. He looked up at me somewhere between excitement and bewilderment.

“Would you like some recommendations?” He said cautiously. I said sure, and he immediately went into a long speech about Jane Austen and her novels. By the time he was done my sandwich and his ramen were long gone. By the end, I had a list of books to read and a new reading buddy to rant about books to. We’ve hung out intermittently since then, and honestly, it was the sanest thing I did all week. However the sanity didn’t last long.

Many other incidents (too many to write) all culminated in this afternoon, when I finally caved and decided if this was my life, it might as well be documented for (at the very least) the enjoyment of others. It was fairly quiet (first clue) and my morning class had been canceled so I was just sitting in the living room doing some work. Everyone else was out and I was about to leave for my 2:30 class when suddenly someone smashed through the window and a smoke bomb was thrown. I honestly thought it was Tim or Jason being weird again, but then the smoke cleared and there was just a bunch of dudes in Green suits with question marks. They looked around and saw me pretty quickly and immediately pointed whatever weapons they had at me. Eventually, some other ones came in the room and said the house was empty and “Wayne is nowhere to be found.” They started arguing till they finally concluded that if none of the Wayne’s were here, I must be the next best thing. Honestly, I can’t even blame them, and at this point I just let it happen.

They put a bag over my head and put me over the strongest one’s shoulder. I was in a car for about an hour before I was potato sack’d again. Once I was placed down, the bag was taken off my head, and I saw that I was in an abandoned-looking warehouse. I saw some more of the brightly clothed men off to the side arguing, one looking even more ridiculous than the others. The extra ridiculous one finally gave up talking to the others(henchmen maybe?) and walked (more like strutted) over to address me.

“Hello guest of Wayne, may I ask your name?” He asked rhyming for some weird ass reason.

“Vic?”

“Ah yes but what is it’s whole, for a half shall not know?” He said lilting his voice… ‘whimsically’?

“What?”

“Your designation that all might know.”

I just continued looking at him with apparent confusion not knowing what the hell is going on. After a minute he hung his head and spoke normally.

“What is your full name?” He sighed.

“Oh! Victoria Blanc,” I said.

“Ah! And what is your relation to the name of Wayne?” He said trying again with the talking in circles bull.

“Look dude usually I could appreciate….. Whatever it is that's happening, but I’ve had one hell of a week so…….”

“Oh come now it couldn’t have been that bad.” He said dismissively.

“Alright bet! You might wanna sit down this is gonna take a minute.”

Once he sat I started explaining everything that had happened since I’d moved to Gotham. As I was explaining more and more of the “henchmen” started joining the crowd.

“He chased him through the manor with a sword?” Riddler asked (at least that's what one of the others called him).

“Yeah, and apparently this is a normal phenomenon,” I said exasperated.

“And here I thought I was crazy.”

“Oh, no this is probably the most sane thing that's happened to me all week,” I said hand waving (They untied me after a while)(I asked nicely).

I was about to continue when suddenly three figures jumped down and got into fighting positions.

“Let her go Riddler!” Said the one in Black and blue(and maybe a bird?)

“Oh, she was free to leave a while ago.” He said casually to the masked people.

“What?” said the one in red.

“Yeah, we even offered to get her away from that mad house,” said Bob.

“Mad House?”

“Yes, it's almost criminal how they act in that house, you bats should really get on that,” ‘Riddler’ said chidingly. 

I didn't really understand why he called them bats since they all looked bird-themed but I didn't bring it up because honestly, weirder things have happened at this point. They agreed to look into it, albeit very confused(and almost offended), and said they still needed to take me back.

“Fine,” ‘Riddler’ sighed heavily, “ but Vic, sweetie, if you need somewhere safe to stay in Gotham I have plenty of friends who will keep you safe while you finish your degree.”

“Yeah, kinda tempting, but I don't think my parents would like that very much, and they are paying for it so…….”

“Very well, offer stands in perpetuity, to Arkham yes?”

“You're not gonna ask a riddle or…..” said the one in red and black.

“Usually I would but honestly I’m far too concerned right now to care.”

After that, they handcuffed him and the other goons (kinda unfair but i guess they did kidnap me) and walked me out to one of the police cars so I could go back to the manor. They offered to drive me but I've seen enough motorcycle crash scene pictures to put the fear of God (thy name is friction) in me. When I got back Mr. Wayne was in the foyer with Alfred and immediately came over to make sure I was ok.

“Yeah, I'm fine Mr. Wayne, honestly I’m more worried about the class I missed than the kidnapping,” I explained.

He seemed concerned by that but had a phone call right after that he needed to take. Alfred walked me to my room (I think to make sure I wasn't concussed) and I just kinda went back to writing and here we are. Can't wait to see what fresh hell awaits me in the coming week……….. Maybe I should've taken Riddler up on that offer.

[hyuge]

Blade's Blade

🗡️BLADE'S BLADE🗡️

⚔��Nu: Carnival | BladeOli ⚔️Rated: M | 514 Words ⚔️For IdolOlivine for the @nucarnivalremix ⚔️Sex Negotiation | Kink Negotiation | Knife Play ⚔️Remix | Missing Scene | Sex Play Research ⚔️Inspired by: knife's edge by idololivine

Mutant rabbits were pesky creatures. They were easy enough to exterminate but their numbers posed a problem. Thanks to them, though, Blade now knew how absolutely fascinated Olivine was with his daggers. Blade worked hard to keep them pristine. An assassin couldn’t have sub-par blades. After a brief discussion and a lengthy cuddle session with several other clan members, Blade was now doing thorough research on the proper way to go about engaging in knife-play. Olivine expressed his interest in the subject, but said it was a matter for a different day.

Fortunately for Blade, Little Aster had a vast collection of books in his library. Many of them were dedicated to various sex acts. It only took him a couple of hours to find one that covered the dos and don’ts of engaging in intercourse with knives. Olivine would be proud of him to know how thoroughly he had studied. One of the chapters stated it was best to use dedicated knives for the act. That meant Blade couldn’t use the daggers that Olivine was so fascinated by. That was disappointing, but he wanted to be safe. Even though Blade cleaned them regularly, he didn’t want to infect their fair priest with some sort of unknown disease because of his carelessness.

When he finished reading and memorizing all seventy-two pages regarding sex with knives, Blade pulled Olivine aside to tell him all that he had learned. As expected, Olivine was disappointed to hear they couldn’t use his weapons.

Aster happened to overhear their conversation and pointed them in the right direction. “If you need knives, I know a blacksmith. He’s incredibly discrete and does amazing work. Every client I’ve ever pointed in his direction has been enthusiastically pleased with their requests.”

Olivine looked skeptical, but Blade was intrigued. They went to the smithery that Aster directed them to and placed their order. Three days later, a message was sent to the manor to let them know their order was ready to be picked up.

Blade’s eyes widened in delight when he saw how excited Olivine looked. The end result was a magnificent knife made of the finest steel Klein had to offer. It gleamed in the sunlight as they walked down the street, casting a rainbow on the ground as they stepped over a puddle. It was a sure sign that things would go well.

“You like it?” asked Blade, his head cocked to the side.

Olivine nodded. “It’s beautiful.”

“Just like O~~livine,” sang Blade. Olivine blushed.

With their new weapon in tow, Blade and Olivine sat down in the library with a sheet of parchment between them. Olivine began to jot down what they would and wouldn’t do, while Blade explained everything else that he had read in the book. They agreed that no blood would be drawn on their first attempt. They would save that for a later date. Blade’s chest fluttered with excitement over the prospects of them doing this more than once. He couldn’t wait to fill Olivine with all the pain and pleasure he so desperately desired.

[doll-collecting-aerialist]

AG Items and Dolls I’ve Found While Thrifting!!

I’ve been collecting for a couple years at this point, but my favorite finds are always the unexpected ones at local thrift stores!! Here are some of the things I’ve found (that I remember)

Dolls:

JLY #21 w/ Star hoodie meet

JLY #33 w/ Mia’s underwear

JLY #39 w/ Rebecca’s one piece PJS

Grace Thomas w/ meet shirt

Kira Bailey w/ accessories and meet

JLY #16 w/blue snowflake PJs (hair cut. fixed and gave away for a family friend’s birthday)

Joss Kendrick (when I worked at a thrift store- she was sold by the time I got off shift and went to buy her)

Multiple Julies (again, when I worked at a thrift store. I have two Julie dolls so I didn’t see a point in buying them.)

Lea Clark NIB (the store wanted $175 for her- no thank you)

Kendall (WW)

Willa (WW- I’ve seen and priced multiple when I worked at the thrift store. I’ve only bought one.)

Camille (WW- I don’t like her so I’ve never bought her. She looks like my elementary school bully and shares her name. Also one of the thrift stores wanted $40 for a one-legged Camille)

Large Items:

Samantha’s Bed (this came from what we called an “estate dump” at my old thrift job- ie. someone dying and their family dumping all their possessions to the thrift store. Samantha’s bedding had to be disposed of with all other soft items in this “dump” because of infestation. Since Samantha’s bed frame is metal, I scrubbed it and saved it.)

Julie’s Bed and Bedding

Floral Bed and Bedding

Kit’s Roll-Top Desk

Julie’s Egg Chair

Truly Me Chestnut Horse (For Felicity)

AG Hair Styling Caddy

Truly Me Grill (from a mid 2010s TM camping set)

Coconut

Kanani’s Dog (bought and gave to a friend)

Random AG Farm Fence Pieces and Food Items (honestly the weirdest lot of items. Fence pieces from a horse set, some of Molly’s multiplication cards, Truly Me meet boots, a doll sized AG waterbottle from a TM backpack set, etc)

AG Bubble Bath (bought and eventually re-donated. It wasn’t in the best condition and I want the dark blue bathtub JLY bathtub instead. I kept some of the bubbles.)

AG Electric Car (thrift store forgot to give me the controller and when I went back they said they sold said controller to someone else?? Eventually re-donated because these dolls are eight why are they driving?)

AG Hair Styling Chair (never seen one in good enough condition to buy)

Julie’s Bathroom Set (store wanted $75 with NO accessory items and water damage. No thank you, especially not for an item that I can only use for a couple photo ideas.)

AG Concession Stand (had no accessories. Couldn’t justify having such a large incomplete, poor condition item taking up space in my house.)

WW Magical Llamacorn and Carriage (I wanted it but where am I supposed to put it??)

Notable Paper Items and Books:

(Honestly my entire AG book collection comes from the thrift store, these are just the interesting items.)

An entire binder of AG trading cards and PC era pamphlets.

PC era stationary cards (thrift store had about 50 packs)

Kit’s Railway Adventure

Welcome To… World Books (multiple girls)

Addy’s Short Story Collection

Addy’s Theater Kit (x2- one well loved and one sealed)

Kit’s Stationary Set (sealed)

PC Story Collections for ALL the early girls (including Kit)

The American Girl Party Book

Hardcover library editions of all of the PC cookbooks

The American Girl Board Game

The American Girl Card Game

The American Girl Family Album

NIB STEM Craft Kit

AG Intermediate Fiction: A Sky Full of Stars, and Smoke Screen

What I Wish You Knew (a PC parenting book!! Gone before I could pick it up back when I worked at a thrift store)

Our New Baby (unfortunately it was moldy so I had to throw it away- this was at my thrift job)

Assorted History Mysteries and GOML

[slytherslyth]

The Task - OminisxMC

Third Chapter

"She's bubbling over," Sebastian said as he flipped through the pages of his book. Davina was glowering at a missing book on the library shelf. "She'll snap at any-"

"How hard is it to just have what I need?" She spat through gritted teeth.

Ominis leaned in and whispered, "I know she has been receiving an abundance of letters from her family. You didn't hear it from me."

Sebastian looked her up and down from the table. "Do you think they're like... well-like yours?"

"My father isn't particularly close to the Rosiers, so it's hard to say," Ominis said. "Marvolo was after her sister for years, though, while at Hogwarts. Apparently, she's a real piece of work—but I wouldn't trust anything that comes out of my family's mouths."

"You could start a gossip column in The Daily Prophet, you know."

"Shut up, Sebastian."

Davina had been stomping around all day. Ominis had noticed her sour mood first in Herbology when she'd left him to trim the Venomous Tentacula on his own.

"Oh, bloody hell!" She cursed from behind them. Ominis jumped at the sudden noise. He straightened the books he'd knocked with his elbow and continued with his Potions essay. Sebastian kept his head down, a smirk on his lips.

Just then, a large black owl appeared and dropped a letter right on the floor in front of Davina. She bent over and picked it up, scanned it quickly, and then threw it into the library fire. The flat paper floated from her hand to the fireplace, landing at the very corner but not quite catching. She hadn't noticed. She had already stormed off.

Sebastian grabbed the letter immediately.

"What are you doing?"

"Relax, Ominis," Sebastian said. "I'm just worried about our friend. You saw how high-strung she has been the past couple of days."

"That's her private correspondence, Sebastian. You can't." Ominis stood up and went to snatch the letter, but missed.

"I just want to know what's wrong. Then maybe we can help her or at least tread around the subject so we don't upset her further." Sebastian reasoned. Ominis sighed, as he often did when Sebastian had ideas.

"Fine. Read it."

Sebastian opened the letter.

Daughter,

It has been two entire days since I sent my last letter and you've yet to accomplish anything. Perhaps I was wrong to suspect you might finally make yourself useful. If I don't hear from you by the end of the week with good news, do not bother returning home for the holidays.

Signed,

Mother.

"That's awful," Ominis' voice was soft. It broke slightly as he recalled all the awful things his own mother had said to him.

"What do you suppose she is meant to be doing?" Sebastian asked.

"Coming from a Sacred Pureblood family, it can't be good."

Sebastian straightened up. "You have a lot of experience with this sort of thing."

"With Pureblood supremacy? Yes." Ominis rolled his eyes.

"What I mean is you can relate to her," Sebastian said. "Whatever is going on, I think you should be the one who talks to her about it. I don't want to press her, and I wouldn't understand what it's like, anyway."

Ominis couldn't disagree. She was clearly worked up, and her mother's letter was downright nasty. He closed his books and began putting them back in their places. He rolled up his homework parchment and placed it and in his bag with his quill and inkpot.

"I suppose I should find her sooner rather than later," Ominis started, "but if she isn't talking to us by supper, it's your fault."

.

It was in the Undercroft where he found her. She was sitting slumped against the stone wall, looking pathetic. Ominis could sense her despair. It filled the room and made the air feel heavy.

He allowed his wand to guide him toward her. She didn't look up, didn't acknowledge him. She just seemed finished. Ominis thought of all the letters he knew she'd received, likely from her mother. The poor girl was being hounded. Ominis crouched beside her.

"Davina," he started, "I've something to tell you."

She lulled her head up and to the side, staring at him blankly.

Ominis continued, "I owe you an apology. Sebastian does, too. We've been awfully worried about you over the past couple of days and we thought perhaps that letter you received might tell us why-"

"I burned my letter. I'm not telling you what was on it."

"The fire didn't quite catch. Sebastian grabbed it and-"

"You read my letter?!"

"Purely out of concern." She would calm down soon. He knew it. While her friendship with Sebastian was fiery, her friendship with Ominis was cool. She wouldn't escalate much further. In that, he was confident.

"I don't need your concern." She snapped. "I have enough concerns from-"

"From your family," Ominis interjected. "From your mother, in fact. I understand. I get it too from mine."

Davina took a deep breath, her shoulders shaking as she did so. "Our circumstances are entirely different."

"Perhaps," he said. "Perhaps not. I cannot know if you don't tell me."

"It's stupid," she mumbled. "You couldn't possibly relate."

"Try me." He sat beside her and pressed his back against the stone. She took another shuddery breath.

"My mother has decided I am to marry as soon as I graduate from Hogwarts."

Ominis sniggered through his nose. "We have more in common than I thought."

"What do you mean?" She looked at him now, properly.

"My eldest brother announced his engagement over the holidays. Of course, in true Gaunt fashion, he proposed to our cousin." He wrinkled his nose. "My father has decided if Marvolo is to take his position as heir, the rest of us need to marry up and get out. So I've been told to find a nice Pureblood girl-"

"To betroth yourself to," Davina finished. "One who fits whatever criteria they have given, one to bring pride to the family name..."

"Y-yes," Ominis faltered. Realization dawned on him. Perhaps he wouldn't need Anne's help after all.

"My family stopped liking me when I failed to get a Hogwarts letter," Davina opened up. "I wasn't invited to anything. I wasn't spoken about. I wasn't spoken to." Her voice broke. "I was told over the holidays that I need to find a good husband. One from a Sacred family so they can get rid of me while bringing pride to the family. I-"

"I can help you." He interrupted her. Her cheeks flushed a brilliant red.

"O-Ominis... I can't-"

"I'm not proposing marriage, Davina," he clarified quickly, his own blush spreading across his cheeks. "I'm proposing a scheme."

"You sound like Sebastian."

"Spending too much time with him does have that effect." His blush began to fade. "No, my idea was to pretend. We can both write to our parents and tell them we have paired up. I'm a Gaunt. You're a Rosier. They won't contest it."

Davina was no fool. She had thought of this idea from the moment the order had left her mother's mouth. But to hear him offer in earnest...

"I cannot ask this of you."

"You aren't asking anything of me. I'm offering." He said. "Besides, it's only a matter of time before my family turns up the pressure."

Davina thought of how he had spent the holidays with the Gaunts, much to his disgust. She could only imagine what he had to endure. "Okay," she said. "Let's do it."

See the rest of the story over on Wattpad. The Task by Slytherslyth here 

[camgoloud]

22-25 for the end of the year reading asks!

(In response to this ask game which I reblogged Several days ago lmao)

22. What's the longest book you read?

By page count it's pretty close to tied between Iron Gold (Pierce Brown) and The Will of the Many (James Islington)! Iron Gold is the fourth book in a sci-fi series that I read a while ago—since this summer I’ve been slowly rereading/listening to the audiobook versions of the first five books because I learned that the sixth one was being released in July after a several year wait and couldn’t remember enough about the plot to jump straight into it. Working my way through the fifth one right now which is even longer (34 hour audiobook!)... hopefully I'll finish it before the end of the year so I can finally start the new one. Meanwhile The Will of the Many is the recently-published first in a planned trilogy and it's all about Gary Stu's adventures in the fantasy Roman Empire with a magic system that's a somewhat-clunky, hilariously unsubtle satire of trickle-down economics. I had fun with it :)

23. What’s the fastest time it took you to read a book?

I think the full-length novel that I went through the fastest is probably Catherynne Valente’s Space Opera, which I read in a sub-24 hour period (picked it up at the library on a Friday afternoon and was done before Saturday evening). My feelings on that one are somewhat mixed—it’s a quick read (lmao) and a fun concept (2/3 ex-members of a washed-up English glam rock band get forcibly conscripted to represent Earth in its first inter-galactic Eurovision analogue after first contact with aliens; if they lose humanity is deemed unworthy of entering the cultural conversation and the planet gets destroyed) and months later I am still compelled by the relationships between the main two characters/their narrative-haunting dead best friend, and there are a few specific sentences I could quote word for word because I liked the prose so much—but also the prose is just So Fucking Much. My god. Valente read the Goodreads quote page for Hitchhiker’s Guide and said “I’m going to write a book where Every Single Sentence reads exactly like all of these” and by god she fucking did it! Kind of grated on me after a couple of chapters tbh and also I can’t decide whether I think the ending was strong or not... I'd recommend it though if you're a fan of Hitchhiker's and/or Eurovision and/or rock band drama!

24. Did you DNF anything? Why?

I think the only things I got properly invested in (as in, read more than the first few pages) before setting aside for an extended period of time and don’t plan on finishing before the year ends are House of Leaves and The Crying of Lot 49 - and both of them especially House of Leaves are books that I actually would like to finish, but realized partway through that I absolutely did not have the bandwidth at that point of time to give them the time/attention they required. But one of these years I will actually sit down and read a Pynchon novel from cover to cover I swear… and I should be able to get to House of Leaves in 2024!

25. What reading goals do you have for next year?

I want to read more short stories! I got pretty into the speculative fiction short story scene this year—bits and pieces of various anthologies, finally subscribed to some magazines like Clarkesworld, etc.—and I’ve been having a really good time with it, so next year I’d like to keep that energy up. I’m also hoping to finish House of Leaves as previously mentioned!

[deepautumncolors]

Today was a bit rough. Yesterday I washed the towels and they were fine, but then I washed our clothes and they were still wet when I went to get them out of the dryer over an hour later. So I guess there’s something wrong with it and it was already here when my husband bought the house in 2014, so we’re going to order a new one. This morning we brought our clothes down the road to my mother-in-law’s house during our 15-minute break and put them in her dryer while she was at work. Oh and there was a water main break somewhere near our house, so we didn’t have any water for a couple hours. And then we had to watch a presentation about the new insurance plan during our lunch hour, so I didn’t get to watch Frasier and read my library book like I usually do. At least they gave us an hour of personal time to make up for it, though. And another good thing was that my supervisor helped me fix a problem I’ve been having for the past two weeks, so I’m really glad that’s taken care of. I figured we would go pick up our clothes at some point, but my mother-in-law dropped them off and she had even folded them for us!

I left at 4:00 (we got up early and worked at 7 again) and went to Cassie’s class because I wanted to do all our Halloween dances one last time until next year. I decided to wear my cat ears and pumpkin earrings with an orange outfit. Grace had on a Halloween outfit too, but we were the only ones. Actually, only two other women came besides us and one of them was the one who likes Taylor Swift. Cassie let me do LWYMMD, Walking on Air, Monster Mash, and Zombie Zoo again and I redeemed myself for the parts I messed up on Saturday. Oh, and she let me go up front and lead Disturbia too. It was really fun!

[bishopkenneth]

A Farewell To Books

I finished boxing up the books from my office today, and it hurts a lot more than I thought it would.

I’m 66 years old, have been studying and collecting theology books since I was 19, have written something like 15 myself, and have come to that point in my life when, as they say, “You can’t take it with you.”

So, I decided to gift a young priest with what I consider a treasure trove of books - a library of probably close to 1500 books that I spent a lifetime collecting, and instead of selling them at some half price book store I can enrich someone else just starting out in ministry with resources that otherwise would literally take him a lifetime to collect. Think of it as an old carpenter giving a young carpenter his tool shop, only, he has some really nice tools.

So, I’m giving him my 38 volume Ante-Nicene, Nicene, and Post-Nicene Church Fathers collection. I was living in Wisconsin when I bought them, 1985, and I went to the bank and borrowed a thousand dollars to spend on books, paying it back over the course of a year (just to be clear, that’s the equivalent of $3,000 today). Along with that set, I also spent the money on the ten volume Kittel’s Theological Dictionary of the New Testament, which I’m also giving him. I’ve used these sets for forty years, and they’ve become good friends to me.

I’m passing on my Hans Urs Von Balthasar collection, my N.T. Wright books, my Ancient Christian Commentaries set, actually all my commentaries, dictionaries, Bible versions, theological books, church history books - nearly everything. It adds up to 33 large boxes. I’m keeping two.

It is a decision I made a year or more ago, and I’m finally doing it, but I didn’t realize how painful it would be departing with some of these tomes. A couple of days ago I picked up a book and realized it was the very first church history book I ever bought - while I was still in Bible college. I’m giving him a lot of books that I used as resources to write my own, so they have been kind of co-workers in the ministry of writing and teaching that I love so much.

I was telling my 87 year old father about it today and he said, “You’ve never really given until you’ve given something you want to keep.” I’ve heard him say it before, but it rang true this time.

Now, I must say, I’m not giving him everything I have. I’m keeping my C.S. Lewis collection, my Tolkien collection, a few favorite theology books, my Robert F. Capon collection, my Celtic Christianity collection, and my autographed books - especially the personal ones from Capon, Thomas Oden, Peter Gilquist, and Robert Webber). 

I’ve never met this young priest. The first time will be when he drives here next week to load them up in a U-Haul. I hope he will let me come visit them every now and then. Pay it forward, folks, pay it forward.

[highwayphantoms]

Happy Friday! How about "i wish you would just be honest with me." for Cal and the character of your choice?

Thank you! Here's some Act 3 angst for you, hehehe.

@dadrunkwriting

Words: 643 Warnings: none

-

Anders was keeping something from them.

With everything else that was happening—the collapse of the mage underground, Meredith’s demands, the general unease of being A Mage In Kirkwall—Cal had failed to notice it at first. In hindsight, though, it was clear. The evasive answers to benign questions, the changes in his usual habits, the avoidance of their friends—it all added up to the same thing.

And so Cal cornered him that evening when he returned to the manor, looking all the world like he’d been crawling in the sewers (unfortunately a very real possibility). It was, in fact, closer to midnight than sunset, and ordinarily Cal would have already gone to bed. Instead, they’d set up in the foyer with a book and a warm blanket wrapped around their shoulders and waited. Anders only ever came up through the cellars—a reasonable precaution given how many templars walked the streets of Hightown now—and that night was no exception. He looked surprised to see Cal, like he had fully expected them to be asleep when he returned, but only for a moment before he fixed a neutral expression on his face and said, “You’re up late.”

“I’ve been waiting for you,” they replied. There was no reason to lie, especially not when Cal’s intent was to find out what Anders was concealing. They were sure it had something to do with the mage underground, though he had never been quite so secretive about it before. He had asked them not to get involved—a request Cal had honored, as much as they would have preferred to help—but he’d told them at least some of what the underground was doing.

Anders casually shrugged. Too casual, considering the dour mood he’d been in for weeks. “Well, here I am.”

Cal set the book aside and got to their feet. Taking a couple of steps towards him, but not completely closing the distance, they said plainly, “There’s something you haven’t been telling me.”

“There are loads of things I haven’t told you,” he countered. “And it’s a little late to ask me to spell out my whole life story, I think.”

They frowned, a thread of irritation starting to build. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

He threw his arms wide, as if in invitation, and replied, “Fine. Yes, there are things I’m keeping from you. Can you really blame me?” Anders gestured at them and added, “Meredith told you to retrieve mages who fled the Circle, and you did, no questions asked. If I told you what I’ve been up to, how can I trust that you won’t turn around and tell her?”

Cal stared at him, aghast. “You know I had no choice,” they said, though their voice wavered slightly. “After all these years—you still believe I would betray your trust?”

Anders took a step back, crossing his arms over his chest in a clearly defensive gesture. “I don’t know that I can trust anyone anymore,” he said quietly.

“You can trust me!”

“Cal…”

They shook their head, deliberately turning to look away from him. “I wish you would just be honest with me,” they murmured. “After all, if Meredith gets her way, we’ll both be dead.”

Anders sighed, the sound impossibly weary. “I’m sorry. I do trust you, it’s just… I don’t want to bring you down with me. It’s better this way.”

Cal couldn’t bring themself to answer. What could they say? It was clear that they’d lost this particular battle—why bother to continue it?

After a few minutes, Anders silently turned and went up the stairs.

Cal eventually picked up their book and headed for the library. He could have the bed to himself, if he even stayed the night. They’d sleep on the chaise in the library. It wouldn’t be the first time.