#like imagine walking into the new museum expecting to learn some history and have a relaxing visit

[ceramicbird]

the belobog history and culture museum event is so funny because i don’t want to do anything else. why would i want to do simulated universe or calyxes or whatever when i can play Museum Management Simulator

[thatmexisaurusrex]

Has anyone already asked about A prince and his bodyguard? If not, please share ☺️

WIP Game

Oooh, this is one I've been working on for months!

It's about Sam Wilson, Prince of the Kingdom of Delacroix and accomplished Gymnast who competed in the last Olympic games before he retired to prepare to take the thrown. Sam yearns for more than just his palace walls though, so he tends to do all that he can to ditch his bodyguards and explore the city.

During one of these excursions, he finds himself in a nightclub called the Sanctum Santorum where he meets one half of the infamous sibling drag duo the Charmes Siblings, Hecate "Heca" Charmes, also known out of drag as Bucky Barnes. They have an instant connection and spend the whole night together.

When Sam's bodyguard quits and Sam must hire a new bodyguard, he finds Bucky Barnes lost in his palace. Bucky had come to the palace after the museum he worked at as a guard learned he did drag at night and found a reason to fire him. He was hoping for a guard position at the palace, since his sister Becca had told him a position opened up. Bucky didn't expect to run into the Prince of Delacroix before he even started his first day, though.

Sam recognizes Bucky quickly as Bucky Barnes, a once rising star in the gymnastics world. He had been the first person in Delacroix history to bring home medals in worlds and was on his way to bringing home the first medals from the Olympics, but then a plane crash right before his Olympics took his arm and abruptly ended Bucky's career. He was the man who inspired Sam to pursue a gymnastics career and was part of the reason why Sam pushed so hard for his mother to allow him to go to the Olympics at least once.

Bucky needs a day job. Sam needs not only a bodyguard but a guide to the city. Bucky agrees to become Sam's bodyguard and guide. The two of them explore hidden gems around the Kingdom of Delacroix, from holes in the wall to picturesque scenic locations, as they learn about their country together and fall in love.

Here's a little excerpt from the fic:

The man smiled at Sam as he pointed to the bookshelf filling up the tall wall before them, where the books created a mural of a woman draped in gold and rubies with falcons resting on her arms. “I think it’s supposed to be a painting of the first queen of Delacroix, Darlene,” said the man. Sam nodded, smiling at the mural. “Darlene the Falcon Queen. It was said that she used to extend her arms and the falcons would grab her and pick her up. Fly her away like that,” said Sam as he giggled, his arms wide open like the mural, “Can you imagine that? Holding your arms out like this and some falcons casually grabbing you and flying off with you like you’re post-lost the ring to the fires of Mount Doom Frodo and Samwise.” The guy laughed. “I didn’t know that,” said the man, looking from the mural to Sam with his arms out still, “How do you even know they’re going to drop you off where you want them to drop you? How many falcons would it take to pick up a person?” “All good questions,” said Sam as he thought about how he walked past the actual portrait that this mural was inspired by way too much, “I ask myself that every day.” “Historian?” asked the man curiously, leaning on the bookshelf. Sam shrugged. “Kind of. A bit of a fossil, in some respect,” said Sam with a sigh, “Sometimes an athlete when I’m allowed. Mostly an explorer when I can manage it.” “An explorer?” asked the man, “Color me intrigued. What does that mean?” “I don’t get a lot of opportunities to go out,” Sam said, pretty sure this man could tell that Sam was side-stepping something important, “But when I get the opportunity, I jump on it.” The man nodded.  “This one of those opportunities?” asked the man. “I hope so,” said Sam, “I’d love it to be, especially with someone like you.”

[maddieinwonder]

A Lesson In Romance #3: The Cast

Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.5k

Plot: Reader keeps getting caught in rom-com situations with Spencer Reid. This time, the team figures it out.

A/N: I'm guilty of writing too much Morgan and Garcia but I can't help it — they're so much fun! I think them plus Emily would have the most dramatic reactions to Spencer in a (potential) relationship, though I'm excited to write about the rest too.

(Also, the reference at the end is from Lord of the Rings, because I love Lord of the Rings.)

Masterlist | All chapters here!

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If you've learned anything from rom-coms, it's that every romantic lead needed a supporting cast. Whether they were siblings, parents, or childhood best friends, the main character needed somebody who would drop everything to talk to them — preferably showing up at their doorstep with face masks, nail polish, and a bottle of wine.

In your life right now, you suppose those people would be your teammates from the BAU.

Of course, this hypothetical scenario didn't require your potential love interest to be from work, but let's say for the purposes of the discussion that they were. Then you hoped, at least, that they would have an IQ of 150 or higher and a propensity for wearing mismatched socks.

But you were getting ahead of yourself. You were simply imagining the hypothetical scenario where your life was a rom-com. Hypothetically, you would need a love interest, and hypothetically, you kind of already had one.

“Hey,” Spencer waved you over from across the coffee shop. It wasn’t difficult to spot him when the place was nearly vacant. Everything was slow and quiet this early in the morning, and you weren’t going to make an exception.

“Morning,” you greeted softly as you sat down, relaxing into the smell of freshly roasted coffee and baked goods.

“I already ordered yours.” He smiled, tucking his book away in his messenger bag. “They had bagels this morning. Yours is cream cheese, but mine is strawberry jelly.” He looked overly pleased with himself, and you couldn’t help but crack a sleepy smile.

You eyed the spread in front of you, before lifting your gaze to meet his. “So your theory that you can predict my taste in desserts seems to be getting better.”

"Yes!" He shout-whispered, silently raising his fists in victory. “I knew I was right.”

You giggled at his overexcitement over something as small as getting your dessert order right. Although, he did once spend ten whole minutes explaining to you why dessert for breakfast was an underrated concept, so you couldn't say this was beyond your expectations for Dr. Spencer Reid.

You propped your head up with your arms, a smile plastered over your face. “Have I ever told you that you’re a weirdo, doctor?” You teased.

“Why, yes. Yes you have.” He replied with a smile, gesturing at you to try the bagel. His own was almost-gone, so they must be good.

And it was. Your eyes fluttered shut as the heavenly combination of carbs and cream woke up your taste buds. It was made even better with a sip of the perfect cup of coffee.

"Perfect," you sighed happily, digging into your breakfast further as Spencer quietly caught you up on the latest news in classical art.

Two weeks ago, you wouldn't have guessed that you would talk to Spencer alone, much less spend your mornings together with him. But as it turned out, a lot could change in a few days.

After the initial awkwardness between you had passed, you found that the two of you shared a lot more interests than interdimensional doctors and space opera. You both loved coffee, obviously, but you also had a mutual love for desserts, classical literature, and history.

It didn't take long for these interests to seep into the weekend, resulting in a suspiciously date-like afternoon with Spencer at his favourite museum. But you tried not to think too much into it. After all, the day had ended with a "see you at work", and not a "would you like to come in?"

Still, your dance between friendship and something more continued to grow wilder as days passed, until it reached a point where it inhabited your every waking thought. The only time it didn't, ironically, was when you were spending time with the person in question and every stray thought seemed to fall away.

Your mornings with him brought a necessary reprieve to the dark realities of this job, and some days you almost had to drag yourself out of your seat, knowing that you were straying from the calm of his company straight into the lion's mouth. But duty always called.

Your sudden hesitance to be apart from the resident genius hadn't gone unnoticed by the rest of your team either; ever since the two of you walked into office one morning with matching coffee cups and smiles on your faces.

At first you enjoyed Spencer's company too much to care, but you knew that it was going to bite you back one day. And today seemed to be that day.

You could tell, because the lift doors to the BAU opened to one very determined Penelope Garcia with her arms folded across her chest. "Spit it out, you two," she said sharply without any greeting.

You and Spencer looked at each other, confused, before looking back at Penelope. "Spit out what, Pen?" You asked, a frown starting to form between your eyes.

"You know what I mean!" She squeaked, dropping her stern facade for a brief moment. "Are the two of you dating? The entire team has been dying to know, and I mean, d-y-i-n-g because there's a huge pot of money with my name on it if you are."

"Ah— No— I mean, you think—" Spencer stammered, his face instantly turning beet red in embarrassment, while your face began to grow red for another reason entirely.

"I think what he means is 'no', and what I mean to say is— what do you mean the entire team?" You half-yelled the question, while Penelope raised her hands defensively.

"What I mean, sugar, is that the two of you went from avoiding each other completely, to coming into work together everyday — and I know you spent last weekend together too, because you couldn't stop talking about it the next day at work and everybody noticed." She stated, pushing up her glasses.

"Not to mention, Dr. Reid here started wearing brighter colours subconsciously." She continued with her observations. "I know this, because in the almost four years I've worked with this man, I've never seen him wear anything brighter than violet. Or white. Or beige. But those don't count." She shook her head, getting back to her point.

"You get what I mean— and you," she pointed her pen in your direction, causing you to jump slightly. "You finally stopped doubting yourself as a part of this team. I knew this when you started talking more often during briefings — which I have nothing against, B-T-W, I totally support any effort in self-care and personal growth — but you also stopped shifting in your seat which you used to do when you felt nervous."

Penelope took a deep breath, preparing for the climax. "So all I can assume, is either you've been attending one of the 52 self-help classes that happen every weekend in Virginia, or somebody has been helping you find some serious zen."

"And my money's on the latter because every time you think nobody's watching, you're making eyes at Reid. But you're wrong. Garcia is always watching." She concluded triumphantly, raising one finger to point at herself.

"You might make a good profiler yet, doll." Derek remarked, walking up to the group with a smirk firmly affixed to his face.

"Expert at all things romance, and Cupid of the Behavioural Analysis Unit, Penelope Garcia at your service." She smiled, graciously curtseying to your other teammate.

"I know you're smart like that, babygirl," he grinned, draping his arm around her shoulder, "but you also don't know pretty boy as well as I do, because they aren't in a relationship."

He turned to you questioningly. "Are you?"

"No." You replied, glancing hesitantly at Spencer for his response, but his face simply looked blank with shock.

"See? Now it's time to collect my payout." Derek grinned at the tech analyst, making the motion of raining dollar bills.

Penelope tailed behind him grumpily as he walked into the BAU office, surely to share the "good news" with everybody else.

You hesitated to follow, imagining what teasing and looks would follow regardless of the outcome. Then you felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning around, Spencer gestured back at the empty lift with his head and you smiled, realising what he meant.

"That is the best hypothesis you've had all morning," you said. The two of you shared a laugh as you got back into the lift.

Even behind glass doors, you could hear a muffled "What?!" that you guessed came from Emily. "There's absolutely no way those two aren't together already. Have you seen them?"

There was a brief pause, then a loud groan.

"I know, that's what I told him!" Penelope's high-pitched voice was clear. "You know I'm going to be right about them eventually—"

The lift doors finally closed, blocking out the rest of their conversation. You looked up at Spencer, your gaze meeting his clear hazel eyes. He looked at his watch briefly before saying the next words.

"We've got time. Are you up for second breakfast?" He asked, referencing a movie from a conversation two weeks ago. He remembered. Of course he remembered.

You cleared your throat before replying the next line. "What about elevenses? Luncheon? Afternoon tea? Dinner? Supper?"

He laughed, and you felt a familiar peace return to you.

Whatever your teammates were yelling about, the two of you could deal with it later. Together.

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Tag list:

@blue-space-porgs @nobutalsoyes @lady-loves-a-lot

[ohmyasmodeus]

𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘮 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 ❖

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♡ 𝘭𝘶𝘤𝘪𝘧𝘦𝘳 ; 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘳𝘵

✧   Sure, Lucifer is looking forward to appreciating art and the history behind each piece, but he finds himself much more excited to spend more time alone with you. History can be preserved, but every moment spent with you is simply irreplaceable; he ends up surprisingly spending more time gazing at you than admiring the artwork.

✧   You make him feel young again. In between displays, he sneaks kisses, mischievously pulling you away from the crowds just to hold you in his arms for a stolen moment. Lucifer adores the way you fall into his arms with soft laughter, and it makes him cradle your face between his gloved hands while he whispers about the way everyone looks at you like you’re a work of art.

“But do you?” You ask softly.

“I always do, ______.” Silhouetted by the gallery lights, he pulls you into a tender kiss full of emotion; a moment that no doubt belongs among the displays of beauty and immortality that surround you.

✧   Lucifer is the kind of person to actually read the little plaques beside the pieces that go into detail about the artist and the intentions behind their art. It takes a while for him to take it all in, but you don’t mind— it’s very cute to see him have to bend down and squint to read them.

✧   Your day hardly ends there. Even as he takes you home, he very much enjoys discussing your opinions on the works included in the gallery and the artists behind them. It’s Lucifer’s way of getting closer, trying to decipher how your mind works, how you view art pieces that are open to multiple interpretations. It’s his favourite part. He loves you and your brilliant mind.

♡ 𝘮𝘢𝘮𝘮𝘰𝘯 ; 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 / 𝘢𝘳𝘵

✧   Your demon is the definition of a kinaesthetic learner. Mammon fits right in with the kids that run around the place, tugging on your hand as he begs you to come play these games with him! He never wants to do anything without you and you end up being basically dragged around the museum. But it’s okay because he’s cute!

✧   While surrounded by so many people, it’s even easier for him to get flustered about affection. His cheeks flush red whenever he thinks too hard about holding your hand, whether it’s to bring you somewhere, or just to hold your hand for the sake of it. The back of his fingers brush against yours, making you smile.

“Hm? What do you want to show me?” you ask as you take his hand to intertwine your fingers with his.

Mammon fidgets with his free hand before shoving it into his jacket pocket, looking away with a brilliant blush. His voice is quiet as he mumbles, “N-nothing, I just… wanted to hold your hand. Or whatever.”

✧   He’s much smarter than people like to give him credit for at times, and surprises you with bits of information he picks up that you couldn’t understand. At the same time, it’s hard to stop him from gushing about how cool it was to see that chunk of sodium explode when dropped in water and how he wants to watch that over and over again.

✧   Mammon runs wild in the gift shop, especially at those little archaeology or mining kits that let you dig through hunks of sand that claim to contain a piece of gold. Of course, there are a million things the both of you want to buy for yourselves, but so little money to do so with. He settles for something small in the end, because he wants to be able to buy something small for his brothers too.

♡ 𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 ; 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦

✧   From the beginning, Leviathan is absolutely fascinated. The calming atmosphere of the museum and being completely surrounded by his element makes Levi relax, even if he’d normally panic and try to hide from the people that walk along the exhibitions with you. But even then, you make sure to hold his hand just to reassure him a little more.

✧   Just like he rants about pretty much anything he has an interest in, Levi rants about the equipment on display and compares weapons or ships from different eras to each other, as if he’s talking about mere video game stats. It’s actually kind of hot to see him act like the Grand Admiral of hell’s navy is supposed to.

✧   Treat him like a Grand Admiral, actually. His brain totally short circuits when you lean into him and put a hand on his chest and gasp about how knowledgeable and strong he is.

“Oh captain, my captain!” you sing as you pepper his face in kisses, making him squirm in your arms. His face is beet red as he attempts to cover it with his hands.

“People are- they’re going to see us!” Levi whines.

You laugh and kiss him properly, arms wrapped around him tight. “That’s the point, baby! I like it when people know I’m yours.”

✧   He actually gets a little sad when he sees the bones of massive whales or the various preserved remains of sea life on display. They all feel like a part of him. At times, he feels like sea animals understand him much better than people do, and he has to give your hand a squeeze as the two of you through the section. At least he brightens up when you tell him that most of these specimens die a natural death or were cared for during their life.

♡ 𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘢𝘯 ; 𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺

✧   His choice of museum goes without explanation. Humans are frail creatures that are essentially doomed to make the same mistakes again and again, despite a new era or millennia, but Satan still finds their history remarkable. He’s fascinated with seeing the butterfly effect ripple through time, sparking wars and conflicts. It makes him wonder about the universe’s decisions— especially the ones that brought you to him.

✧   Satan has always been more fond of reading the ancient texts on display or translating archaic inscriptions on bronze age charms, but when he’s with you, he finds himself more drawn to the elegant gowns and elaborately crafted jewellery on display. You always find his emerald eyes lingering on you, imagining what you would look like in something so grand. Your beauty stuns him in every way, especially with the way you smile at him while framed by the display’s lights.

✧   “I thought you wanted to learn,” you mumble with a quiet laugh into the kiss that Satan pulls you into. The two of you are wrapped in each other’s arms in the back of a crowded amphitheatre, making an attempt to watch a historical film.

In the darkness, Satan’s blush goes unseen, but you feel it in the heat of his face as you kiss him back eagerly. “I’ve learned enough about humans, ______. I want to focus on my favourite one now.”

You close your eyes, and so does he. History couldn’t matter less, not when it feels like the two of you are the only beings to exist, the only people that matter.

✧   Despite wanting to learn, Satan finds himself getting dragged into shenanigans with you as you voice historical figures with the goofiest accents and clown around with some of the interactive props. He laughs along and snaps a million pictures of you to keep, and he supposes that humans aren’t the only ones that make recurring mistakes. After all, he lets you loosen him up and lets you force your way into his heart time and time again, but he still can’t force himself to complain about it.

♡ 𝘢𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘥𝘦𝘶𝘴 ; 𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘰𝘯

✧   Beauty in its different forms has always mesmerised Asmodeus. Museums have never been his thing, but with a fashion museum, you might just be able to change his mind. He goes between gushing about the textures and layering of different pieces to gushing about you and how amazing you look today!

✧   Asmo is always on top of the latest trends, but there’s something that always brings him back to the ostentatious allure of baroque and rococo dresses. He loves reading about the rise of these styles, but he would rather pull you along into a waltz as the quiet ambient music plays around you, the both of you giggling and referring to each other as ‘lord’ and ‘lady’.

✧   Or ‘your majesty’ and ‘my consort’...

✧   You, as always, expect him to pull you away somewhere quiet to make out and be general public nuisances, but Asmodeus surprises you this time. He’s far too busy taking pictures of you together and of just you alone, his amber gaze so soft as he contemplates your beauty. He ends up leaning in serenely as the two of you find yourselves alone together in a gallery.

“You’re gorgeous,” Asmo mumbles with a smile, delicately tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. “There’s just something so magnetic about you, I can’t look away…”

“I don’t have to say it back because you know you’re handsome and your ego is big enough... but there’s nothing that can compare to how lovely your soul is.” You chuckle softly, resting a hand affectionately on the side of his face. Asmo rests his forehead against yours, wrapping his arms around the back of his neck with a delighted giggle, delighted in knowing that you see him beyond his superficialities and flaws.

✧   He buys you a set of jewellery from the gift shop, and not one of the cheap ones either. He splurges on one of the most expensive professionally made vintage sets because he really wants to daydream about you dancing with him in those rococo dresses, the most gorgeous royal couple in the world…

♡ 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘻𝘦𝘣𝘶𝘣 ; 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘮��𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘵

✧   Delighted by the more colourful and almost bizarre applications of mixed-media art (think Yayoi Kusama), Beelzebub enjoys contemporary art the most. He’s easily fascinated with the elaborately abstract displays, and quietly wraps his arm around your waist as the two of you gawk at stunning larger-than-life works that probably get him a little hungry.

✧   He’s a respectful visitor and likes to stay silent so he doesn’t disturb the quiet atmosphere for everyone else appreciating the art. It ends up in him having to lean down and murmur softly in your ear when he has something to tell you, his warm arms pulling you into an embrace that you never want to leave.

✧   Workshops! Please bring Beel to the workshops because they’re his favourite part of museums. No matter how hungry he gets while putting in so much effort, he’ll sit still and work hard to make you something you can treasure.

“Do you like it?” he asks with a smile as he presents you with a little figurine version of one of the sculptures featured in the exhibition, hand painted by him. It’s easy to notice how the colours he picked out match your features. “It’s yours.”

“I love it, Beel! Oh, it’s wearing my coat and everything!” you gasp. The elated smile he gives you is absolutely priceless, and you can’t help but tiptoe to kiss him in thanks for his hard work.

Beel lets out a soft laugh and nuzzles his cheek into yours. “I really liked the art, but it felt like something was missing… Maybe the exhibition would’ve been a lot more beautiful if you were an art piece on display too.”

✧   Bringing him to a museum like that just might inspire him to create art by himself. After creating something for you, he feels hooked on it! You find him doodling a lot more on his homework and giving you the most endearing drawings of things you like, or his own hilarious renditions of what Lucifer looks like when he’s about to burst a blood vessel. Beel definitely has a hidden talent for caricatures.

♡ 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘳 ; 𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺

✧   Humans? Belphegor has had enough of them for a lifetime and can’t be bothered with learning more about them, but natural history is something that captivates him. There’s a kind of innocent wonder in his eye as you lead him around the exhibitions, marvelling at the displayed remains of the massive creatures that came before, wondering how they evolved into the tiny little animals of today. (But it’s probably also morbid curiosity with the way he looks at preserved carcasses and skeletons.)

✧   But you’re an exception to him. He's tired of humans but never of you, even if he jokes about it at times. Even if he knows about most of the things on display, Belphie is still asking you to tell him about them because he just loves hearing your voice. Coupled with the soothing silence of the museum, it almost puts him to sleep.

✧   “Don’t fall asleep! You paid to watch this!” you whisper when Belphie rests his head on your shoulder. You want to pay attention to the dinosaurs beating the shit out of each other in the surprisingly well-rendered 3D documentary, but you can’t help but gaze at your boyfriend instead, and the way he looks in those dumb 3D glasses.

“I won’t,” he mumbles, rolling his eyes. “You’re warm.”

“You’re a little leech, you know that?” Despite your snarky tone, you lift up the partition between the theatre’s seats to let Belphie snuggle into you. Just like a leech, he’s immediately all over you with his arms wrapped tight around your waist, chuckling as he buries his face in your neck.

✧   You wouldn’t expect it, but he’s also the kind to go wild in the gift shop, albeit in more subtle ways— like staring really hard at something or carrying something only to put it down for you to get the hint. He ends up getting the both of you a big plushy to cuddle and name on the way home.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

[genesisrose74]

Requested by @blanknamed (aka my bestie fr): hihi i saw the matchup and remembered my irl friend sent me these pictures when describing my aesthetic at one point and was wondering if i can have a matchup with someone from dsmp and dr. stone 🥺congrats on 1k too! so proud of you ❤️ you deserve this milestone!

Arielle get over here and let me give you a virtual kiss on the forehead because you’re just the sweetest person to ever grace this earth 😚forgive me for the long wait but i had to put so much into this one because it’s for you!! thank you for always being such a ray of sunshine and for becoming one of my first ever mutuals so long ago — and as a show of my gratitude, i’ll get right into your first pairing, which is going to be with…

I had a literal conflict over this because I think you could be compatible with more than half of the characters in dr. stone (looking at gen specifically), but UGH you and Senku would be so damn iconic together. As much as he’s not intent on becoming romantically involved with anyone, it just so happened that you both had a chance meeting together at the school library — in the modern times pre-petrification, of course. You were looking for a book on the development of radiation powered technology for a history class, and by coincidence Senku was reading the blurb of that very text when you stopped by. When you asked if he’d read it, your classmate simply shook his head and said he just knew a lot about the subject, and soon enough a conversation blossomed from that point.

Y’all talked for two hours. While standing in the same spot. TWO HOURS. And it didn’t even stop there because he realized the time and asked if you wanted to talk more over a bowl of this really good ramen he knew about close by. Senku barely even realized the implications of his offer until much later, since…

He was way too involved in your conversation to notice

He’s never had any interest like that in someone before, let alone has he ever tried asking a person out in general

Everything about you was so interesting to him that he cannot process anything else going on around him and he doesn’t know why

You just feel so different in comparison to his dynamic with anyone else that it throws him off. He’s curious as to why he straightens up when you walk in a room, why everytime you smile at his stupid dry jokes it makes him more confident, why your intrigued questions about his work give him an extra burst of adrenaline. After he comes home late, having fallen asleep in the library while you studied for a test beside him, Byakuya eventually spells it out for Senku in massive bold letters.

No, seriously, he writes it on a whiteboard with a chunky black marker.

“That’s ridiculously far-fetched,” he asserts quickly, trying to push his old man out of the room. “Since when have I ever been interested in anyone in that way?”

“Senku, you waited for her to finish her work. Without complaint.”

And he’s like: oh shit—

But knowing Senku, he still makes some futile attempts to disprove the concept that he could ever be attracted to someone in a romantic sense. Ya know, all that, “science is my only devotion” shit. It lasted for about two weeks, which was the exact amount of time that he tried avoiding you in hopes of seeing if he could in fact continue his routine without your presence next to him.

The bitch still cannot swallow his pride though, so you have to be the one to make the first move — which is about as simple as perfecting Flight of the Bumblebee on a violin. Every time you try bringing it up, it’s like Senku gets a sixth sense about it and is pulled away from you as soon as possible. At some point you just had to corner him in the school lab, hands smacking against the surface of his work table and mouth blurting it out.

“I think we should go on a date.”

He’s kinda impressed at the sheer willpower you displayed in finally getting the question into the air. And as much as he would hate to admit it, some happy nerves shot through his body when it happened. On the outside, though, he simply failed to fight a grin.

“Wanna get food with me tonight?”

And you did :D and it only went good from there. Dates at cafes with comfy chairs and pretty lighting, test runs of new experiments in the middle of the night that Senku calls you to see together, just enjoying the presence of one another in a secluded corner of the libraries you frequent. Even after the disaster that was petrification you’re both side by side, being sarcastic little shits to each other as soon as Senku frees you from the stone; doing new tests to save the world, going on picnics by the river, and constantly being of service to one another.

And then from the c!dsmp, I thought it was only fitting to match you up with…

^^ artwork by SAD-ist on YouTube

Listen, listen: I was considering a more standard/expected approach to this matchup, like maybe c!Wilbur or c!Niki because they’ve both got some major academia vibes. Especially Niki, because damn she’d probably take you to her flower shop and make handmade bouquets for you each day. However, I just think that it would be so perfectly fitting to have you and c!Sapnap together aesthetically. He’s very emotionally driven, always doing something stupid, and he probably hasn’t read a book since L’manburg claimed to be a sovereign nation. Regardless of that fact, he could sit and watch you read a book for hours, even if you didn’t ask him to. Standard case of grounded scholar + impulsive idiot = natural soulmates.

Within the region of the SMP, I imagine you like confining yourself to the libraries filled with ancient texts on the vast history of your home — although taking a visit to Eret’s self-made museum is always a pleasure as well. Niki gets along with you easily enough that you hang out together all the time, and it’s on one such occasion in the early days of L’manburg that Sapnap encounters you for the first time.

Dream had sent him out for scouting duty (which to Sapnap translates into, ‘be annoying to everyone within the walls’), and he’d taken to the edge of the country’s small borders, lounging up high above the trees so that he could see everything below with ease. To his surprise he found you, scribbling away within a ragged old notebook underneath a tree canopy, and wearing the prettiest smile he’d ever seen exist on a person before. You were waiting for your friend to arrive, it seemed, taking the ideas in your head and putting them to paper whilst you sat patiently. He was enraptured with you right away, and as a result he took to teasingly pestering you every chance he could.

Sapnap showed up at least once a week — and when he could, more than that — to slowly learn more about you. He tried staying under the radar of Wilbur when he did, just to make sure none of his endeavors were interfered with or got back to Dream in any capacity. Initially, his presence appeared a pain in your side, but your apprehension ultimately fell at the hands of his ridiculous humor and genuine inquiries as to your likes and dislikes. You knew who he was from the get-go, but it was hard not to find delight in his visits when he made such vigorous attempts to know you.

Although you’re sure he’d already learned it somehow, you told him your name one fateful afternoon, and he’s thought about that moment every day since, marking it as the first day he truly made progress in winning you over.

“You should come up here one day so we can talk normally,” he called out on a particularly overcast fall morning. “Maybe then I can see your face up close.”

You laughed, gazing up at him from the hillside on which you reclined. “You’re ridiculous. That’s not how this relationship works.”

“Mm, relationship? Sounds like you wanna gimme a kiss more than saying anything, hu—ow!”

A pine cone had clipped him in the shoulder harmlessly, chucked with expert aim by your own hand. Despite his surprise, Sapnap couldn’t help smiling.

“If you’re working that hard to twist the narrative and get me up there, how about you just come down instead?”

Without missing a beat the next day, he scaled to the top of the nation’s wall, made his way inside (with very little consideration for his safety), and took your face in his hands.

“You want me to?”

You already knew the implications. “Yeah.”

And he kissed you, then and there. Nice job, Ari!

Navigating a full blown relationship in the conditions y’all were in was not ideal. Sapnap tried everything he could to make sure you were safe, despite his distaste for your mother country and its leaders. After that cleared, though, it was a whole lot easier to be together and figure things out. Sapnap didn’t mind you staying within the walls as much as he initially thought because it reminded him of the first time you met, and so long as he could spend time with you he loved every second. Literally ask this man to do anything with you and he’s in, no matter what it is.

The sheer spontaneous energy Sapnap has inevitably feeds into your own, so while you’re much more contained than the pyromaniac, you have some very notable moments of crazy that are simply unforgettable. It’s honestly super funny to see that infectious life invade your senses, because otherwise you’re a super logical person and love entertaining yourself with the more simplistic things.

You work a lot with Wilbur on record keeping and cartography, but something that you and Sapnap apparently have in common is archery. That pine cone throw was no fluke, and he found that out when you came to visit, a shimmering bow fastened to a stock-full quiver on your back. It’s become a pastime to both ride out into the forest with your horses and practice archery (oftentimes mounted) as a way to let out frustration. If the weather conditions are too abysmal to go and do something outdoors, though, Sapnap likes to fall asleep watching you do methodical work, most commonly with his head in your lap as a fireplace crackles nearby. He’s a huge sucker for that cozy atmosphere, even though he tries to be all tough and badass at other times.

This became a huge ramble because I just think this pairing for you works so well, but I’m praying you get the picture. Sapnap is a flirty, slightly whiny, very protective, and free spirited person whenever you’re around, and he’d do whatever he could to see that pretty smile like the first day you told him your name. He thinks the world of you, and in his eyes your intelligence goes unparalleled.

[mcliha]

ABOUT

Full Name/Nickname: Meliha Rüya Çetin, goes by Mila. 

Age/DOB: 30 / February 4th, 1992

Zodiac Sign: Aquarius 

Gender: Cis female, she/her

Place of Birth: Paris, France

Arrondissement: Palais-Bourbon (7th)

Sexual/Romantic Orientations: Bisexual

Religion: Muslim

Occupation: Marketing Executive, Travel vlogger

PERSONALITY:

TW: abandonment mentions, misophonia. 

Goals/Desires: To be the head of a marketing firm, to discover who she truly is, and to finally figure out what it is she wants from her life. 

Fears: Failure, abandonment, romantic commitment. 

Hobbies: Reading, visiting museums, drinking coffee and reading the newspaper, photography. 

Likes & Dislikes: Mila loves coffee, learning about history, building connections with clients, long baths, designer labels, cats. She dislikes people taking advantage of her, dishonesty, bad breath, laziness, the sound of chewing. 

Hogwarts House: Slytherin

FAMILY

Parents: Emin Cetin (father), Aysun Cetin (mother), stepmother. 

Sibling(s): 2 step siblings

Pet(s): A stray, tubby ginger cat that quickly became her own, named Tali, which comes from Tâlihli meaning lucky. 

POTENTIAL CONNECTIONS:

I have a few connections listed on this page, but I would love to brainstorm some more. I’m also looking for her mom, her father and step mother and will be writing a wanted connection for it. Here are some fun plots I think would be fun:

SURPRISE GUEST: You’re drunk and walked into the wrong apartment and fell asleep on my couch oh my god you’re going to be so confused in the morning? 

IT’S NOT ME, IT’S THE CAT: My stupid cat sneaked out on the balcony and into your open window, and he has this habit of destroying furniture and pissing everywhere. So I followed him inside and you came home earlier than expected and found me in the middle of your living room.. but I swear I’m not a burglar, okay? 

OOPS: I was in a hurry and I ran into you outside the coffee shop while you were carrying two lattes, and it turns out they were both for you except now you’re wearing them I’m so sorry. 

ARE YOU STALKING ME: These two meet everywhere they go, eg: the bakery, on the street, in bars, etc.

INSOMNIA: Our flats are opposite each other and your kitchen window faces my kitchen window, so we always see each other making coffee at 3am

NEW MESSAGE: Muse A sends a text by mistake to Muse B. They don’t know each other at first and Muse B tells Muse A that they have the wrong number. And then Muse B decides to continue the conversation, they continue texting even if they don’t know each other’s names.

YOU STARTED IT: I saw you trying to hit the ‘door close’ button in the elevator, but I made it in and then pushed every single button to make you later for work. But now we’re stuck in this fucking elevator as it stops at every single floor, I don’t know what to say other than ‘you started it’. 

ARTIST: a plot where they’re both at an art show and they’re stood next to each other at a certain collection and he/she asks her opinion and she completely blasts it saying she doesn’t understand any of it and it looks like something a kid would do and he/she just laughs and nods with her. but then later on he’s/she’s revealed as the artist and she feels so bad that she blasted his/her work and he/she just found it pretty amusing and they go out for coffee as her apology and just imagine him/her taking her to art galleries and she’s just brutally honest saying she doesn’t understand any of it so he/she explains and wow 

[adam-venture-rewrite]

The Library (Chapter One)

First chapter is done! WOOOOOOO. So some things, 1. Please let me know if anything is historically or religiously inaccurate I am learning as I go. 2. This is like my first real project when it comes to writing so be aware, I am a bit rusty. Anyway, enjoy!!

Adeline Venture under the cut:

Adeline’s father has always been the most popular. Having grand adventure’s, staying true to the name. Although as of late his expeditions are within the books of the museum he bought. His fame didn’t disappear, and when people see her, it’s always “Old Venture’s daughter”. So when Adeline has to come to the museum for whatever he plans, she ends up falling asleep.

Passes the time to imagine if she could be that big. Adeline Venture, the greatest explorer in the world. She surpasses her father’s expectations. There would be millions surrounding her, asking her of her great expedition, what she saw, what she had to face. Adeline would smile, wink at some big fans and say, “It was simple really, anyone could do it. But not everyone is Adeline Venture”. Then the dream ends when she feels herself shaken awake.

“Adeline, why is it when you come see me, that’s when you decide it’s time for a nap? Does your old man bore you that much?” Her father said, standing to his full height, he wasn’t too much taller then she was, especially when he was entering his late fifties. His brown hair speckled with grey, eyes needing glasses to read the small books he poured himself over everyday, a cane for support. Whether from some great adventure mishap, or from his body finally catching up to him.

“Of course not, just what you were saying did” Adeline sat up in her chair and groaned, her back aching from the curled position she was in. Watching her father shake his head and sit behind his large desk. The firelight casting shadows across the large office. Adeline never understood her father’s obsession with building a museum attached to an old church. Something about preserving history, he was always obsessed with the bible, the thought of a beautiful garden full of life, and the tree of impossibility. Adeline didn’t see anything special about a couple of old bricks.

“Well Adeline, I shall not bore you with Eden. I asked you here for a reason, seeing as you are too busy doing whatever you’re up to, I got myself an assistant.” Adeline stood up at that. For as long as she knew, once Adeline grew to a certain age, she was the one caring for her father. He didn’t exactly have anyone besides her, so hearing him actively hire someone to be there, is a shock. “Now before you go rambling about how you can take care of me, you are still young and deserve your own adventures, your old man cannot be that for you.” Adeline just nodded, deep down she knew he was right. Her father had always supported her wanting to be just like him, even warning her that she would have to fight harder than him, that the world wouldn’t take too kindly to a smart woman making a large name for herself.

“So. Where is this assistant, I want to meet her before just leaving her with my father.” Adeline crossed her arms, huffing a bit. Her father just smiled, before clearing his throat.

“She’ll be in the library, I made her go look for some books on Eden and Genesis while we waited until you woke up. Go fetch her will you?” Her father looked back down to his notes, not wanting to hear any excuse from the brunette. A small groan escaped Adeline before she headed to the library.  Making her way down the halls of her childhood, between the old brick of the church to the new of the beautiful museum her gathering created. She remembered running down these halls, pretending to swing like her father did with his grappling hook. A great painting of him and that hook, swinging across a great height, framed and on display when you first walked through the doors of the museum.

Entering the large double doors of the library, the familiar dull scent of paper and dust filled Adeline’s nose, she used to love the library, reading all the fantastical stories that littered the shelves, but soon she longed to be the protagonist on the pages facing those struggles.

“You must be Miss Venture” a woman’s voice rang out, making Adeline jump slightly at the quiet being broken. There to her left, a couple of books within her arms, was a pale haired woman, round glasses propped up on her nose. A curious look on her face.

“Miss Venture? Make me sound old, why don’t you. Adeline is fine, Venture is my father’s thing…” She sighed, she’s normally used to this formality, it’s just odd from someone the same age as her. “And your name?”

“Evelyn O’Connell, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Seeing as you were a bit preoccupied when I first arrived.” Evelyn quipped, looking towards the painting that depicted a large temple. Adeline gave her a tight lipped smile, she definitely had some attitude. “I gathered the books your father requested.” She turned, showing the three books she carried, Adeline put her hand out, wanting to look at what she had. Hesitantly she handed the books over, watching over the shorter girl's shoulder as she looked amongst the small stack.

Paradise Lost, The Spiritual Use of an Orchard Or Garden of Fruit Trees and The Hidden Garden. Adeline looked up towards Evelyn, seeing her attempting to read her face, she smiled a bit. “Well… Miss O’Connell, you can eliminate Paradise Lost is not biblically accurate, so if my father is looking for the real thing. Shouldn’t start with fairytales” the young Venture stated, with a forced smile. Evelyn grabbed the book from Adeline’s hand and scoffed.

“The Garden of Eden is a fairytale, there has yet to be any actual proof it exists. So searching through fairy tales might be a start” Evelyn took the other two from her hands, adjusting her glasses and taking a deep breath. “Arthur hired me because of my experience, if he wanted your opinion, he would have asked you.” She looked Adeline up and down. Adeline was shorter than her, as well as bigger, not by much, but enough that she could compare to a physically well man. The brunette seemed to have thrown together her appearance, new bandages applied to her face, as if she just recently got into a scrap.

Adeline looked taken aback, not expecting the sass coming from a simple librarian. No time was given for Adeline to counter the verbal attack, as Evelyn turned on her heel and began to head to Arthur Venture’s office. Adeline quickly followed. Catching up to the taller woman, Adeline took in the small scowl on her face, how her eyebrows were furrowed and her lips were pressed together.

“Evelyn, Adeline. Glad to see you’ve met! Did you get the books I requested dear?” Adeline’s father said, standing from his desk and taking off his glasses. And taking the books from a now smiling Evelyn. Adeline watched as they began to discuss what exactly he was looking for. “As we know, Eden was long forgotten, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.” Arthur said to his daughter, watching as she slumped into a chair, listening to her father. “So, we go to texts about tales of people seeing things like Eden. The church we built out from is supposed to be one of the most ancient religious sites. If I have any faith in finding it, it’s within these walls.” Evelyn scoured one of the books, seemingly hearing this speech before. As she went she would bookmark different pages, writing down on a piece of paper her possible findings or notes on what was on that page.

Adeline eyes had wandered to the painting above the fireplace. Trees with long branches that look like long hair, sweeping against the grass. Two water falls behind the largest of trees. Their bark made of gold, leaves almost a marble colour. From one tree hung bright red apples, gleaming in the bright light, and the other hung almost gold pears. For the longest time the painting had hung above the fireplace. It had been there when Arthur Venture had bought the church, another item Adeline’s father kept because of the history behind it. The gold frame darkened with time and the lack of care. The engraving of “The Leap of Faith” on the bottom of the frame is barely readable through the darkness that is pressed against the letters.

“Mr. Venture, this page within Hidden Gardens.” Evelyn’s voice spoke up, making Adeline’s head turn towards her. Watching as Arthur moved towards the young woman to see what she was pointing out. “It mentions a direct scene from the garden. Two trees made of gold and marble, one with red fruit and the other with gold. Three waterfalls-”

“Two.” Adeline corrected, there were only two in the painting, clearly depicting Eden. “Pardon?” Evelyn looked toward Adeline, confused about the correction. “There’s only two, why would there be a different amount in the painting then in the book?” Adeline said, getting up from the chair and pointing towards the painting. “Adeline, there have been many depictions of Eden, one thing missing isn't unusual.” Adeline’s father added, attempting to move on. Adeline huffed, she understood that. It’s just a small detail. How can it be mixed up so easily? Especially when the painting is exactly like the description. Adeline looked toward the painting, she couldn’t see the details in the low light of the room, so she reached up and attempted to take the painting down.

Removing it she blew the small amount of dust it collected, glancing up, through the corner of her eye, the wall above the mantle was different. Instead of the flat surface, like a wall, there was a small indent, maybe as big as a small novel.

“Hey, is there supposed to be a box-sized hole in the wall?” Adeline asked, still looking at the indent. Arthur moved around Evelyn to stand next to his daughter. It was peculiar, as long as he could remember the painting hung there. He never removed it as it was one of the things that pushed him to find the garden. “How odd?” the older Venture said, looking toward the painting in her hand, then towards Evelyn, the Hidden Gardens within her hands, the waterfall displayed on the cover. A smile crossed his face, looking towards his daughter, bringing his hand to ruffle her hair, “Already so perceptive” He took the book from Evelyn’s hand, Adeline, still a bit confused, set the painting leaning against the seat she previously slept on. Standing behind her father as he set the book within the crevice. “Three waterfalls,” Arthur said, smiling at his daughter, only to watch the ground beneath her open, and for her to plummet.

[lettersinscarlet]

Day Off (Obey Me! Barbatos Imagine)

Alright, finally at the end of the Obey Me! section of this transfer. Honestly this one surprised me because I didn’t expect this request, so I was pretty quick to write it out, and I thought it turned out pretty cute. I mean, at least I thought it did, but oh well.

——————————————————————————

“I’ll see you later, my love,” Barabtos promised quietly, gently pulling the door closed behind him. You sighed as you laid back down, staring at the ceiling. You wished that he could’ve stayed for a little while longer, but you knew that his job was important and that he needed to be there.

You had been in a secret relationship with Barbatos for a couple months now. The quiet demon had captured your heart, and it seemed that you had captured his as well. There were times when you would sneak over to his room or he would come to yours, and you could go off and have secret meet ups at different times. It was trying, but it was definitely worth it.

Lately, it had seemed that he had a ton of work, and your time together had been less and less. You missed him so bad, and you knew you needed to take action. You grabbed your things and crept out of the palace, on making your way back to the House of Lamentation. You didn’t want to jinx it, but you had expertly learned the way to sneak past Lucifer, and you always had a good excuse prepared in case he spotted you, which he hadn’t yet.

The next day, you hurried and got dressed so that you could speak with Diavolo before your classes started. You walked into the palace and straight to his office. You knocked and waited for a response.

“Come in!” Diavolo’s voice welcomed you cheerfully. You opened the door, gently shutting it behind you. Diavolo smiled when he saw you, giving you a wave. “Well, if it isn’t one of my favorite humans!” You laughed and he offered you a seat, which you took. “What brings you to my office this morning?”

You took a breath before you started. “I was wondering if you were aware that there is an important human holiday tomorrow.” Diavolo’s eyes widened in surprised and he leaned forward in his seat.

“No, I was not. What is this holiday?”

You smiled and you knew your plan would work.

“Well, we call it ‘National Butlers’ Day’ in the human realm,” you started. “Each household gives their butler the day off,” you explained. He nodded as he listened to your explanation. “I was wondering if we could celebrate this holiday by allowing Barbatos to have the day off.”

You crossed your fingers as you waited for his response. You saw that he was contemplating the idea, and eventually a bright smile crossed his face.

“Why, of course! It would be rude to not celebrate such an important human tradition,” he replied, and you sighed in relief. “Let me just make a note of this.”

You smiled secretly, pleased with your success. Now you just had to make sure you covered all your tracks. “Oh! But you don’t want to mention this to the other servants. We wouldn’t want to gloat that someone has the day off when they don’t.”

Diavolo nodded. “Of course, we need to be courteous.”

“Would you mind if I told Barbatos the good news myself?” you asked, hoping he’d grant this one more request.

“That seems fair that a human should tell him about the human holiday,” he rationalized and nodded. “Yes, I think it’s fitting that you should.”

You stood up from your seat, barely able to contain the huge smile on your face. “Thank you, Diavolo! You’re the best!” You turned to leave, but a genius idea struck you. “Might I add one more suggestion?”

“Fire away,” he replied, leaning back in his chair.

“You might want to see if Lucifer or one of his brothers could work in place of Barbatos for the day,” you laughed, his laughter joining you. You both said your goodbyes and you skipped out of the palace, deciding that you would tell Barbatos when he would see you at night.

Later that night, you were grinning ear to ear when Barbatos walked into his room. You stood up and walked over to him, draping your arms around his neck. He smiled, leaning in to kiss your lips as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“You’ll never guess what I did today,” you started, your eyes lighting up as you looked at him.

“What did you do?” he asked, playing along.

“I got you the day off tomorrow,” you answered in a sing-song voice. He looked confused and you giggled.

“How in the Devildom did you manage to do that?” he asked, bewildered.

“I have my ways! I just batted my eyelashes and said ‘please” and he was like puddy in my hands,” you smirked. He rolled his eyed and laughed before kissing you again. “Oh, and if anyone asks, yes you are thrilled to be selected for National Butlers’ Day,” you added with a laugh. “Tomorrow, I have a whole day planned for us, so you don’t need to worry about a thing.”

“I can’t wait, but how are you going to explain this to the demon brothers?” he asked, still wary.

“I can get Solomon to cover for me,” you answered. “He owes me one, anyway, because I helped him out with one of his potions.” Barbatos smiled before he pulled you in for a tighter hug, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck.

“Thank you. You are the best partner I could ever ask for,” he whispered into you. You chuckled, squeezing him tight.

“Okay, you need to rest up. We have a big day planned tomorrow,” you informed him, pulling away from the hug and walking to his door.

“Wait a second! Don’t you think you could stay for just a little longer?” he asked, moving to be by your side again.

“Well, I guess I could stay for a little longer,” you admitted, turning and grinning at him. He smiled and pulled you back in for a deeper kiss, happy to be able to spend time with you.

The next morning, you spent some time putting things together for your day with your boyfriend. You talked with Solomon and you worked out your cover story with him. You packed your back and gave your excuse to the brothers, slipping out of the house to go meet Barbatos.

You stood in front of the palace, texting him that you were there and you waited for him. He soon came out to meet you, a bright smile on his face. He gave you a quick kiss on the lips before he pulled away and grabbed your hand.

“I’m excited for today,” he admitted, walking where you were leading him.

“I’m excited, too. It’s been awhile since we’ve had some alone time, and I’m glad that I get to spend the day with you,” you replied, squeezing his hand tighter.

“You know, with the way you were able to pull this off, I’d say that you almost have more magic than I do,” he laughed, and you smiled at him.

“First up on the agenda: breakfast!” you announced. He smiled as you led him to one of his favorite cafes.

Your morning was wonderful. You both enjoyed some breakfast together, before you took him to one of his favorite book stores. You picked out a new book to read and he picked out something as well. Then, you decided to go for a walk in a nearby park, you sharing some stories from the human world and Barbatos spilling the tea about the brothers and Diavolo. You took some time to take some picture of Barbatos and you had a little photo shoot with him, finding some photos that you would make your home or lock screen.

Soon, it was time for lunch, so you reached in your bag and grabbed the lunches you had made, taking Barbatos to sit at a bench nearby.

Shortly after lunch, you brought Barbatos to the movie theater, and you let him choose the movie that you would be watching. Hit picked something the both of you would like. During the film, you held his hand, squeezing it tight. Eventually, his attention and yours shifted from the movie to each other, the both of you moving to be closer together so you could kiss. You barely noticed when the lights turned on after the movie was over.

After the movies, you went with Barbatos to the museum. You spent hours in there, with him telling you the history behind some of the exhibits. You loved listening to him explain, just captivated by the way he talked.

You did a few more small activities, before you took Barbatos to a restaurant before dinner. You had the perfect way to end the night, so you took Barbatos to a secret clearing.

“It’s beautiful,” he remarked, looking around and then back at you. “What is this place?”

“This is my secret hideout,” you explained. “I stumbled across this place, and it just became where I went when I needed to get away from everything. I wanted to share it with you,” you whispered, looking up into his eyes. He smiled at you, bringing up a hand to stroke your face.

“It’s wonderful, thank you for sharing.”

You moved and reached into your backpack, grabbing the blanket you had packed. You pulled it out, spreading it out on the ground. You sat and patted the spot next to you, encouraging him to sit next to you, which he did. You both laid back, his arm wrapping around you as you looked at the stars. You were both attempting to spot some constellations, and even attempting to make a few of your own, featuring a smiley face and a stick person.

“Thank you for today,” Barbatos said, turning his head to look at you. “I really enjoyed being able to spend my day with you.”

You turned to look at him more directly. “You’re welcome. You one-hundred percent deserve it.”

“You know, if we told Diavolo about us, we might be able to get a few more days like this,” he suggested with a laugh.

You sat up, causing Barbatos to sit up, too. You took a deep breath before you started what you needed to say. “Honestly, you deserve more days off. You are so hard-working, diligent, committed, kind, sweet, thoughtful, caring, not to mention good-looking,” you stated as you began to list your favorite qualities about him. His face flushed as he listened to you compliment him.

“The point is, I love you, Barbatos, and if you’re ready to tell people about us, then I am definitely ready, too.”

He waited for just a moment, his eyes glancing down at your lips before meeting your gaze again. Slowly, you both leaned in, your eyes fluttering closed as his lips pressed against yours. It was soft and sweet and he pulled away after a moment, a huge smile on his face.

“Then I think I’m ready,” he admitted, making you smile as well.

You both laid back down, you snuggling against your boyfriend. He smiled, holding you tight against him. He was so glad that he met you and he felt incredibly lucky that you were with him, and he couldn’t wait to let the entire Devildom know that you were his girl.

[erosofthepen]

Hello! I had an idea for an imagine that I wanted to get your thoughts on, if that's fine by you. Which Characters from The Hobbit and Lotr do you think would most enjoy dating a Dark Academia-style Writer? So like she dresses in the Dark Academia fashion, reads Classical Literature and her own stories and essays to them while cuddling, excitedly Rants about History and Literature to them, and maybe they even find her journal full of sappy love poems and rambles about how much she loves them? Who do you think would be most down for a s/o like that, if you don't mind me asking. I'd love to get your thoughts on this, and your blog is so spectacular btw!

Oh ho ho, my friend, this is right up my alley. I am obsessed with Dark Academia.

For ‘The Hobbit’:

Bilbo Baggins.

He was literally the first person to pop into my head. He is a perfect mix of cottage core and light academia, and I feel like he would have a lot of love for dark academia as well. When you’d cuddle, you’d both be reading your respective books (or even better, reading the same book with one another, or even even better, reading aloud to one another), and when a particularly deep or meaningful quote or scene happens, you would both discuss it thoroughly. You would both go into rants about history and literature you find interesting, and understand one another perfectly, going into incredible depth about the topics. If he ever found love poems you wrote about him, he would read them with the fondest smile upon his face. Who knows, in a few days, you might even come across a few poems or songs he has written about you.

Bard.

Bard has a lot of respect for history, (I hold firm to the belief that he was one of the very few lake men who really cared about the towns past), and would probably even help teach you some history of Dale and Esgaroth. And if you teach him about our worlds history and mythology, he would be all ears and find it utterly fascinating. He would totally be down to just spending quiet days at the library with you, and would probably read every book you recommend to him (Imagine discussing ‘A Secret History’ with him… that would be quite an interesting conversation). And if he ever came across love rants/poems… this man would get all cute and tell you how much they mean to him. He’s just that kind of person.

Thorin.

This dwarf would be incredibly into Dark Academia. I can just imagine dressing him up in one of those gray waistcoats with the white, long-sleeved undershirt. If he should roll the sleeves up to the elbow… sigh. He could totally dress the part. And he would absolutely love seeing you dressed dark academia style. His color palate is very similar to what is typically dark academia. And get ready for hours of discussing both dwarrow and human history with him. Also, if I may go out on a limb here, there is this headcannon I have about dwarrow museums being carved into old mineshaft used of resources. Thorin would be immensely proud and excited to show you and teach you everything in the museums. Walking down the stone halls and him pointing out various carvings and texts on the walls, your dark academia mind couldn’t be happier. And cuddles with his arm around your shoulders, lying in bed after a long day, ending the night reading. He would occasionally look down at what your reading (possibly asking what’s going on in the plot, depending on if you get annoyed by interruptions or not) and smile to himself. If you read your own work to this dwarf, expect the best feedback possible. He is very thorough with his feedback, and knows how to properly give constructive criticism as well as highlighting the best parts of your work.

Lindir.

This sweet little elf would be beside himself. He loves the libraries in Rivendell, and you sharing and reading stories with him opens up worlds. He would also love the way you dress, and will often ask what has inspired your ‘look’ for the day. He gets excited when you come to him with a new topic to rant about, and will likely contribute some very insightful views on the matter. When you come to him with questions about Middle Earth’s history, he will gladly answer whatever you ask (and probably end up having a history rant of his own. ‘Hey Lindir, what are the Silmarils?’ ‘…how about you sit down, and we’ll chat about it for a few months.’). He would just be the sweetest if he found your love rambles, and would be blushing the entire time reading them. Expect a wonderful thank you and an entire sonnet of his own composed for you.

Ori.

Can’t forget this little scribe. He would be beside himself at finding a fellow reader and writer, and the two of you would have so many reading sessions where you discuss what exactly this word meant in this context, or just ranting sessions where you gush and/or vent about a certain scene or plot development. He would find your outfits absolutely exquisite and probably even help you piece some together. Cuddling with him while reading is honestly the best, because you’ll just be laying side-by-side, surrounded by pillows and blankets (possibly in front of a fireplace in the Great Erebor Library), and just be reading your different books together, content to just read without feeling the need to talk. If you ever read your work to him, he would be beside himself at the level of trust you place in him (being a writer, he knows how daunting sharing your work can be), and he would love whatever you write. Expect him to start sharing his work as well. For the love poems, You’ll probably find his poems/rambles first, tbh. He just loves expressing himself through writing, and expressing his love for you is his favorite thing. You both get all sappy and blushy when you read one another declarations of love.

For ‘Lord of the Rings’:

Frodo Baggins.

Much like his Uncle, Frodo has a healthy appreciation for history and literature. He’d just love pouring over different books with you, and discussing them. His favorite thing to do with you on rainy days is to curl up with a good book and read aloud. Maybe even a walk down the trails and paths with an umbrella as well (Lobelia in the hobbit movies and the end of return of the king has proven there to be umbrella’s in Middle Earth). Hobbits are known for their passion for History, particularly family History, so he’ll definitely go into some rants of his own about the history of the Shire, and will sit and listen to your rants as well.

Elrond.

Lord Elrond is like a living, breathing, history textbook. He would be the absolute best person to discuss historical events and mythology and such. His keenness for knowledge knows no limits. There will definitely be very, very, long conversations about literature and meanings behind what the author writes, and the morals and values of the texts. Honestly, there is just such a depth of understanding between you and Elrond that is incredibly hard to find in others.

Faramir.

This man. This is the man who literally fanboyed over Gandalf and became a pupil to him. He would absolutely be beside himself when he meets you, because another human who is obsessed with learning and history and literature and discussing it and having deep conversations about it??? He would fall hard. And he would always love the way you dress, whether you are wearing a cozy sweater-vest or a dramatic trench coat. The two of you would literally spend hours in Gondor’s libraries, pouring over shelves of scrolls and books, taking notes on them, and maybe with a few older ones, restoring them together. Your favorite thing to do before going to bed is lighting a few candles and reading together. He would especially be fascinated and amazed at anything you have written and willing to share with him. He honestly just loves you so much, and feels so understood when he’s around you. And finding love poems written about him fills him with an indescribable amount of joy.

Aragorn.

When not off doing important Ranger or Kingly duties, Aragorn would just love to spend time reading with you. The kind of quality time where neither person needs to say anything, because the simple presence of the person is enough. He’s very into History, and I can totally see him ranting to you about the story of Beren and Luthien (perhaps the rest of the Silmarillion if he has the time), and would love to hear about your stories and books from our world. He’s the kind of person who prefers to dress practical, but that doesn’t stop him from complimenting your outfits and thinking how great you look every time you walk into the room. He loves the aesthetic of it. And should he ever stumble across a poem about him, he will probably keep it to himself, but memorize every word and repeat it to himself while traveling.

So I may have gotten just a tad bit carried away with this, but it was so much fun doing! Thank you for this ask! I hope this is what you were looking for. Now, i’m going to make myself a cup of tea and go to bed.

[angelofbenignmalevolence]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Gordon Tracy, John Tracy, Lucille Tracy, Scott Tracy, Virgil Tracy, Alan Tracy Additional Tags: Humor, natural history museum, Child Tracys Series: Part 3 of Bad Things Happen Bingo Summary:

Gordon can handle all manner of sea creatures. But lizards? That’s a whole other ball game. Sometimes, you have your brothers to thank for your fears.

I have a few things that I just want to get out of the way. I know that there is some question of whether Virgil or John is the second child of the Tracys based on a couple of different sources. I know that the most widely accepted birth order puts Virgil before John. For the purpose of this story, I have written John as the second oldest, meaning the birth order will look like Scott, John, Virgil, Gordon, Alan. Based on the dates for the boys that I was able to find regarding ages, I’m looking at an 11 year gap between Scott and Alan. I’m looking at Scott as 16, John as 13, Virgil as 11, Gordon as 8, and Alan as 5 years old. Prompt requested by @misssquidtracy​ for @badthingshappenbingo​

----

Lucille Tracy was an excellent mother. Everyone knew it. Everyone except Lucille Tracy herself. The other families in the small Kansas town where they lived knew that she had her hands full with five boys, especially with their father deployed by NASA for much of the year, if not a year or more at a time. Lucille ran a tight ship, and there were never any complaints about her young boys from those around the town.

The boys often spent time on their mother’s family ranch at Gran Roca, but more often than not on the hot summer days where the weather was too oppressive for riding or running or any other manner of outdoor play, Lucille could be seen with her brood in tow headed toward some kind of educational opportunity. Lucille wanted to make sure that her boys were never letting their brains rot over the summer by spending too long in front of the TV or playing too many video games, and so once a week, the boys could be seen spread out across the library. Each boy had their own library card, with the exception of the youngest, who wasn’t yet old enough for his own. The boys were expected to bring home at least one book on their weekly trip to the library, and John was often seen lugging home a number of them in the messenger bag his mother had given him.

In addition to the weekly library trips, there was also a weekly excursion as a family. Some weekends it was to the zoo, because little Alan loved to go and watch the animals. Sometimes it was to the aquarium so little Gordon could watch the fish and the sharks with wonder in his eyes. Sometimes it was to the art museum so Virgil could spend an afternoon practicing his painting skills by copying the masters in the museums. Sometimes it was to the planetarium to sate John’s curiosity about everything in space. Sometimes it was to a sports hall of fame to satisfy the desire for everything adrenaline for Scott. And sometimes….well….sometimes it was to the natural history museum because that was what Lucille enjoyed most.

So when the young family found themselves together at the Natural History Museum, it was just another family field trip. Lucille flashed the membership pass at the admissions desk and they smiled and waved her along. They were well known and beloved by most of the staff, as the boys were usually well behaved, and everyone that had been around for the “diorama incident” with Virgil and Gordon a few years ago had either left or completely forgiven the young boys.

Alan began to fuss, having not been cooperative for his nap before coming to the museum and Lucille knelt down to try to figure why Alan was upset. John walked over to the map of the museum, regardless of the fact that most of them knew the layout by heart, having spent so many summers in and out of the museum. Scott and Virgil joined him at the map.

“Think they’ve got that new exhibit on flight up?” Scott asked, not wanting to sound too excited. A young man just entering high school couldn’t be seen to be too excited about an educational trip, after all.

“I doubt it,” John said softly as he looked over the map. “They were saying that it was going in sometime late this year. I imagine it will be up in the fall.” Scott frowned, but John didn’t seem to take any notice.

“Well, last time we came we spent a lot of time in the geological area for Alan,” Scott said. The youngest had loved playing with the little rock samples that they had out for the children to touch and had cried loudly when they tried to pull him away.

“There’s always the hall of biome dioramas,” Virgil offered. He’d taken to bringing his sketchbook to practice sketching the dioramas. Every time he came, he improved just a little bit more, though he did notice that security kept their eye on him after the ‘incident’ with Gordon a few years ago.

“But they never change!” Scott protested. “It’s the same old lion jumping on its prey and the same polar bear who is never going to catch the fish.”

“They’re museum exhibits, Scott,” John said. “Sometimes the big dioramas like that don’t change.”

“They’re museum exhibits, John,” he said in the same bored and tired tone. “They’re old and stuffy and full of things that people don’t care about anymore.”

“Some people care about them,” John said. “Their traveling planetarium show was pretty incredible.” Scott rolled his eyes, ruffling John’s hair and earning him an indignant squawk from the red-head. “Hey!”

“You’re such a nerd,” Scott said, nothing but love and affection in his voice. John gave him a glare as he fixed his hair.

“I’m aware,” John said dryly. “Look, you don’t have to stick around and follow me. We can all appreciate different areas. Most of us are old enough to not be tied to someone’s apron strings.”

“What about Gordon?” Virgil asked, looking to the sandy haired blond who was currently making faces at their youngest brother to help him stop fussing. “I want to go to the dioramas and the security people don’t like it when he’s in there.”

“I’m thinking about going to see the bee exhibit,” Scott said. “You know, with the live hive? I don’t think it’s a good idea to put Gordon anywhere near a live beehive.” John rolled his eyes.

“You two are such babies. The diorama incident was a one time thing and I think Gordon has enough sense to know not to go anywhere near where there are live bees,” John said. “Our brother can’t get in that much trouble.” Scott and Virgil exchanged a look and a knowing smile.

“Alright then, John, you watch him for the afternoon,” Virgil said. John opened his mouth to protest, but realized that he had walked himself right into that. He let out a defeated sigh.

“Yeah, ok. I’ve got him,” he said. “Maybe I’ll go take him to see the dinosaurs.” Scott grinned, happy enough to be relieved of babysitting duty. He gave Virgil a high five before they wandered off in the direction of their respective favorite exhibits. John took a deep breath and then made his way over to his mother and little brothers.

“Hey Gordon, you want to go look at some dinosaurs with me?” John asked, smiling and holding out a hand to entreat the young one. Gordon grinned and jumped down off the bench where he was sitting next to his mother, running over and taking big brother’s hand. Lucille offered John a grateful smile which John returned.

With a quick wave back to Lucille, John led Gordon through the crowd of people heading into the various exhibit halls. Gordon raced forward as they approached the wing with the dinosaur displays, tugging John behind him.

“C’mon John! You have to tell me everything about all of them!” Gordon said excitedly. John smiled at Gordon’s eagerness. His curiosity sometimes got the better of him, but John was happy to still see wonder in his younger brother’s eyes. As they entered the exhibit hall, John had to maneuver Gordon around a team of workmen were doing some needed maintenance around one of the dinosaur skeletons.

“Did you know that the word dinosaur comes from Greek meaning ‘terrible lizard?’” John asked. Gordon’s amber eyes went wide and he shook his head.

“But we don’t have to worry about them, right?” Gordon said.

“That’s right,” John said. “They died out a very long time ago.” Gordon grinned, running up to one of the skeletal figures and pointing at it eagerly. “John! John, what’s this one?” John walked up to it and looked at the placard detailing information about the skeleton.

“According to the sign here, this skeleton is a full-scale replica of a niobrarasaurus. It says here that it was an armored dinosaur from the late Cretaceous period with thick plating and a tiny head,” John said. Admittedly, dinosaurs weren’t really his thing, but his younger brothers seemed to think that John had all the answers in his head. Gordon nodded and then turned to look at another skeleton, cutting across the walkway and nearly tripping up a couple who were wandering the museum as well. “Gordon! Careful!”

“Sorry!” Gordon said, his enthusiasm for learning making the couple smile and laugh good-naturedly before they moved on to another exhibit. “This one looks like it’s got a duckbill. What’s this one called?” John moved over and looked at that sign as well.

“Looks like this one is a claosaurus,” John said. “This one is also from the late Cretaceous period.” John looked like he was going to read more from the placard but Gordon had already moved on to another fossil. John let out a sigh.

“Gordon, slow down,” John said. He could see why Virgil and Scott had foisted the responsibility of watching over Gordon onto John. You didn’t actually get to see the museum with him. Gordon paid little heed to his brother’s chiding and continue to bounce from display to display.

“Ooooh! This one has big, sharp teeth!” Gordon said. John nodded.

“Yep. It means that this guy probably ate meat primarily,” he said. Gordon frowned.

“Lizards eat meat?”

“Some of them do,” he said. “But again, you don’t have to worry about lizards this big anymore. They went extinct millions of years ago and most of the lizards that are around today are too small to take a bite out of you.”

“Most?” John ruffled Gordon’s hair, earning a squawk of indignance.

“Don’t worry about it, squiddo,” he said.

They had gone through nearly every display in the exhibit hall when John started to herd Gordon back towards the lobby where they were going to meet the rest of their family to figure out lunch. Gordon skipped forward, rushing forward to take one last look at some of the skeletons before they left. John rolled his eyes and followed more sedately.

“Gordon! Be careful! Wait for me!” John said. Gordon paid little attention, turning around to stick his tongue out at his brother. John gave him a look before his eyes went wide. “Gordon!”

“Wha-OW!” Gordon said as his tiny body connected with the ladder on which the maintenance man was standing. There was a panicked cry as the ladder began to teeter dangerously. “Uh-oh….”

John was frozen in place and time seemed to slow down as the man began to fall. The man’s arms flailed, grabbing for anything that would stop him from plummeting from his previous perch. His hands found purchase on the dinosaur skeleton that he had been working next to.

His arms wrapped around the neck of the dinosaur, the display wobbling dangerously as the man scrambled for purchase. Several of the adults moved to get the ladder to a position where the man could regain his footing. Gordon began to back away slowly, his eyes wide with the situation currently unfolding in front of him. The well-meaning bystanders were able to get the ladder underneath the struggling man, who released the display as he regained his footing.

There was a terrible creak and groan as the display began to shudder and tremble. John felt his body moving in slow motion as he saw the dinosaur skull begin to give way from the display. He tried to move forward, tried to grab Gordon out of the way. Gordon remained rooted to the spot as the giant skull above him opened its gaping mouth wide and began to descend in his direction. He hunched into a ball and there was a great clatter as the whole display came crashing down around Gordon.

John stopped where he was, his heart skipping several beats as security and museum professionals began to make their way to the scene of the accident. John rushed forward, only to be stopped by a security person.

“That’s my brother!” John insisted.

“It’s ok...we’re going to make sure he’s safe…” he said. John looked uncertain. What was he going to tell their mother? How could he look her in the face when she had trusted Gordon to him and he had let this happen. His mind began to spin with all of the terrible thoughts of a child who knew that this would be the end of their parents’ love.

The museum professionals began to move the pieces of the skeleton and there was a soft murmur of relief when inside the mouth of the skeleton, Gordon was hunched into a ball, shaking irrepressibly but miraculously unharmed. They began to move the pieces of the exhibit around and the security guard pulled Gordon from his hiding spot.

“You’re one very lucky little boy,” the security guard said as he scooped Gordon up onto his hip to bring him over to John, whose heart was skipping beats in relief as his little brother was returned safe to him.

Lucille came around the corner and saw Gordon nearing tears in John’s arms. She moved over to them quickly, Virgil following close behind her. Scott stood away from the event with Alan on his hip, though it did nothing to hide the worry on his features. Lucille fussed over Gordon and pulled him into her arms, relieved that he was ok.

Lucille began to pack up the boys as the museum began to apologize profusely to her. She waved off their apologies, wanting to get her boys home where she could hold them and make sure they were truly safe. She pulled Gordon against her side and began to usher him out, John under her other arm. Virgil looked down at his younger brother and he gave him a calming smile.

“You know what I think, Squid?” he asked. Gordon looked at Virgil questioningly, his amber eyes brimming with tears. “I think you just became the coolest kid in school.”

“I did?” Gordon asked with a sniffle. Virgil nodded.

“You betcha,” he said. “I mean, it’s not every kid that can say they survived being bitten by a dinosaur, right?” Virgil asked. Gordon took a moment to consider the question, then a small smile broke out on his features.

“Yeah…I guess you’re right Virgil. I am pretty cool, huh?”

[yessoupy]

the @imetyouonljpodcast episode this week gave me lots of thoughts and feelings about star wars. more like, reminded me of all my thoughts and feelings around my first fandom. thus, I decided to write my own journey into and throughout star wars fandom, and what it means to me. buckle up, this story spans decades.

my very first memory of anything star wars-related is a yoda puppet that my grandmother had. it had to be from the original run of the movies, because I was maybe 4 in my first memory of it, and i was born in '86. my sisters and I loved it, and one of our cousins was deathly scared of it so we'd chase him around the house with it.

my second memory of star wars was going to the movie store with my dad and sisters and seeing our favorite yoda on the cover of a VHS. "yoda yoda yoda! daddy, it's yoda!!! can we get it?" we were holding up the display cover for return of the jedi. dad said no, we couldn't get that one yet because we had to watch them in order. so we rented a new hope and all I remember was falling asleep while artoo and threepio were trundling across the tatooine desert sands. at five I guess I was too young.

in early 1997 the special editions of the original trilogy were aired in theaters and I was in 4th grade. dad took us to see one of them (I think empire, at some point we'd finally finished a new hope). at school that grading period I sat next to a boy named mark and he noticed I was drawing little x-wing silhouettes on my paper. "you like star wars too?" he asked. when I said yes, he declared that because of my name, he was going to call me skywalker. that's the name on the back of my high school letter jacket.

in fall of 1998 I started the 6th grade and I came home from school one day to a hardbound book my mom had checked out for me from the library. heir to the empire by timothy zahn. mom pointed out where it said on the cover it was a trilogy, and I could get the other books when I finished this one. she hadn't found the young jedi knights series for me. she'd checked out a GROWN-UP star wars book.

in spring of 1999 the phantom menace came out and my parents' friend took me to see it on opening day because neither of them were free and I HAD to go that day. later on that year she took me to a star wars exhibit at the museum of fine arts. that was also the first time I saw a monet and a renoir. the exhibit had costumes (real costumes!!!) from the original trilogy and the newest prequel. I bought a book about the myth of star wars in the museum gift shop.

I read every expanded universe book our local library had, which was a lot. I had a lot to catch up on, too, since heir to the empire had been published in 1992. you never saw me at school without a star wars book. I read while walking in the hallways, even. in 6th grade I read during lunch, since I was in varsity orchestra with 7th and 8th graders and was terribly shy. they'd tell me I should socialize at lunch, not read my books, but... I wanted to read. I had a lot to learn. I have a lot to know.

I was in 7th grade when I read vector prime, the first in the new series. my first class of the day was science, and the boy I had a crush on was in that class. we had DEAR time at the beginning of that class - drop everything and read. not a hardship for me. that day, I read the part of the book where chewbacca was killed. I looked up, astonished. heartbroken. I locked eyes with the boy I liked. he nodded at the book and I showed him the cover. he nodded sympathetically. "they killed chewie," I whispered. he said "I know."

I wrote original characters in star wars fan fiction when I was about 13. I had an internet friend named rachel who lived in brisbane. then there was dave and 'roswell' who gave me ideas for my story. I loved being able to talk about the wide world of star wars with other people. we used aol instant messenger and email. my username in those days had 'skywalker' in it. I am pretty sure we met in an aol chatroom. I didn't find much of use on the official star wars site and I have probably visited it fewer than 10 times since 1999.

I read those books all through middle and high school. they were my christmas presents and my birthday presents. I moved into our family beach house after college. it sounds really nice but I didn't have running water because it was the summer after Ike hit. I would go to the used book store on 23rd street and buy a stack of star wars books and read them while I waiting for calls to interview for a teaching position. weekends I'd go into town to stay at a friend's house and help her with wedding stuff. I'd shower there, too. that's where my new stash of star wars books started, with me catching up on the legacy of the force series I hadn't read in college and then finishing up through the fate of the jedi as those came out. I felt that I had grown up with these characters. I remembered when kyp was just an orphan han rescued, when jacen and jaina were five years old, when corran horn had no wife, no kids, and was just finding out who his family was. I had capital o opinions about what color lightsaber i would have and why (silver; bc corran), I knew the geography of the galaxy and where everyone was from and my favorite planet was dathomir because women ruled it. I knew all of these characters' histories and motivations and the difficult decisions they'd made and had to live with. I loved them.

i never ventured into the online fandom space for star wars, even after I'd found other online fandom spaces, because I didn't feel like there was anything anyone could add to it for me. I was satisfied with all I'd gotten. sure, favorite characters had been killed (after chewie, the one who stung most was Mara, luke's wife), but people die. and in such a long-running series spanning so many years and trillions of miles of space... you come to expect it.

people would ask me ALL THE TIME when the sequels were coming out and I said never. then, disney bought star wars. initially I was excited (tears of joy happy) to have sequels confirmed. my mind raced, imagining a trilogy centered on the events surrounding jacen's descent to the dark side. the original actors would be the right age for that. who could play jacen?

then, the announcement came that the canon was now 'legends' and they wouldn't be taking any of it into account when writing the sequels BUT that didn't mean we wouldn't see old canon favorites. they announced adam driver as the villain and I thought "jacen." I held onto the idea that this knowledge I had, these years of knowing these stories, would still be worth something. that I'd be able to add new information to my mental bookshelves and maps. that my universe would expand further.

the force awakens was a bitter disappointment. I was upset from the crawl, leia's title making it clear to me that she wasn't chief of state, she wasn't the mother to three children, han wasn't her husband, and all of her history I'd grown to love really was gone. what I saw was the older version of a woman I'd met when she was 18 and hadn't seen her since her early twenties. I didn't know her.

I didn't know the galaxy, either. starting with the new jedi order series, a map of the galaxy was included in the front of each book with the planets named so you knew where everything was happening. the new galaxy was bare. it was small and knowable. while the hosnian prime system was destroyed in the movie, I'd never known it, and all the planets I DID know were similarly blasted out of memory. where was dathomir and its fierce warrior witches? if their planets were gone so were their people.

as the movie trudged on, a retelling of a new hope, I kept thinking, "at least let his name be jacen." I hung my hopes on this sith character being han and leia's son and sharing that name of the boy I'd known and the man who'd grown up to turn to the dark side. at that first shout of 'BEN!' I was angry. Ben?? that was the name of LUKE'S son! that was MARA'S child! Ben??? with three letters jacen solo and ben skywalker were also dead to the galaxy.

I know, I know. I should get over it. I AM thankful for poe dameron. the x-wing books were always my favorite. poe was familiar to me the way other new characters weren't. he was part of the new republic navy. I knew what that was. he flew an x-wing. I knew what that was.l and what company manufactured them. he was from yavin IV, I knew where that was and what it looked like. finn was a stormtrooper, yes, but the empire had not stolen children to be raised as stormtroopers. they were recruited like any other position. his story wasn't real to me, it wasn't something I could easily accept. and the idea that the new republic just LET the first order rise? leia's new republic would NEVER. but leia wasn't chief of state in this universe. leia hadn't had that power.

I read a lot of articles about the force awakens and the reactions to it, and never saw myself in any of them. the star wars fanboys whom I'd never known were painted as being angry because their fan knowledge was useless and "boo-hoo poor widdle fanboys" they would be mocked, rightfully. but that's why I was angry, ultimately. everyone I knew and loved was dead. worse, they'd never existed. "what do you think will happen?" some unsuspecting coworker would ask. I'd shrug, but inside I was yelling "who the fuck knows! my favorite characters don't exist anymore. nothing I know as this person you know as SKYWALKER means anything anymore."

it only got worse from there. One day I spent four hours figuring out how far the casino planet was from the drifting ships in the last jedi and doing math to figure out how long it would REALLY take to get there, using old canon star wars physics. I couldn't suspend my disbelief during that movie. everything was wrong. (the other space physics quibble I had was from TFA when poe is using comms while in hyperspace, and dropping out on a command and not... when nav told him to?? you'd fly right through a star!! were they HOVERING in hyperspace? none of it made sense.) I knew too much and too little to enjoy it.

TROS was a narrative mess already retconning new canon and I decided that I would only keep what I liked about the new canon (poe and his family) and pretend the old canon is all there is. one day I'll write the story of poe being part of the storied rogue squadron being sent by leia's new republic to put down the fascist upstarts at the edge of the unknown regions. one day.

one more quick story -- i met my college friend’s three kids for the first time when the oldest was 6. i’d sent a toy lightsaber as a gift when he was born, because i believe every child should get their first lightsaber from a skywalker, and his father had shown him the movies when he turned 4. when i walked into the house i said hello and he said, “i have some questions about star wars.”

we sat on the couch with the tfa visual dictionary, a book he’d gotten out of the library. every question he had was an excellent question, and i couldn’t answer any of them. “why does his lightsaber look like that? and why does he have the extra blades?” 

“well, kiddo, let’s see what it says here about how lightsabers are made. i used to know all about it, but they changed everything on me.”

---

what i love about star wars since disney bought it:

poe dameron, cassian andor (and all of rogue one, i got over the fact that the movie wouldn’t be about rogue squadron it was PERFECT), solo (a fucking DELIGHT), the mandalorian, and i’m sure the cassian andor live action will be amazing and i’ll love it. 

[atamascolily]

Shield of Lies, continued.

What would my mother think of me? he wondered, and it was the first time such a thought had ever confronted him.

Luke, you really suck at introspection, don’t you? Like... NEVER in TEN YEARS have you EVER wondered about your mother? Sigh.

Shortly after the reorganization of the government, Nanaod Engh had given Luke keys to most of the real treasures of the New Republic—the central data libraries maintained by various branches of the General Ministry. Thanks to Admiral Ackbar’s intervention, Luke also carried the highest-grade security clearance held by any civilian.

Between the two, Luke had—potentially—a great deal of information at his fingertips. But the access he had been granted was a courtesy, not a necessity. Luke’s most urgent curiosities were in areas of little interest to bureaucracies, and he had never found reason to make much use of the favors extended him.

But he found himself with reason now.

Speaking of lack of imagination.... SIGH.

Luke returned to the pilot’s couch and curled up sideways in it. “How do people become part of the circle?”

“Curiosity is not sufficient—which I hazard you know. Some are born to it. Some come to it. Is it any different in your discipline?”

“Born with the gift, do you mean, or born to someone who already belongs, to a trained adept?”

“Is the gift not in the blood?”

“Sometimes it seems that way. Sometimes it seems as if the talent goes wild, almost as if the Force chooses its own,” Luke said, turning on his back and propping one foot on the control panel.

“Why, what do you mean?”

“Look at the way the Jedi are coming back,” said Luke. “The Empire hunted us so relentlessly that most everyone who escaped thought they were the only Jedi left. But it isn’t just that a few solitaries who were hiding have resurfaced. I’ve found students with no family history whatsoever, in species that were never represented before in the Order.”

“Some of your number may have been adventurous travelers,” said Akanah. “On Carratos, I heard many jokes about how the Emperor spent his evenings. If a Jedi sleeps alone, surely it must be by choice, as it is with you.”

LOL, Akanah doesn’t know about Callista. Or Gaeriel. Or anything else about Luke’s messed-up love life.

“Are you saying that you expected me to warm a bed with you?” Luke said. “I didn’t think that was our bargain.”

“No,” she said. “I never expected that.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“That Luke Skywalker could have a hundred children by now. A thousand.”

“That’s crazy.”

“No—that’s the simple truth. There are different rules for heroes and royalty, and you’re seen as a little of both. You can’t be unaware of that.”

Luke frowned and looked away. “I don’t know how to be a father to one child, much less a thousand.”

“You wouldn’t need to know,” she said. “Their mothers wouldn’t expect it. They would be grateful enough for the gift.”

“I’d expect it of me,” he said, and firmly steered the conversation back on course. “We were talking about my being an honorary member of the circle—”

Again, I’m surprised by Luke’s lack of imagination--and offers--given how people at the spaceport viewed him. Did none of them really think, “I would totally bang this dude?” WHY IS HE SO SURPRISED?

Also Luke, just say “fuck,” it’s okay, I promise.

“We were talking about my being an honorary member of the circle—”

“Not honorary,” she corrected. “Novice.”

“Novice, then. But there’s an exception in your oath for people like me?”

“Every adept has the right to judge and the duty to teach,” she said. “I’ve made my judgment.”

“And the rest?” Luke asked. “We’ve had many hours together—why haven’t you started to teach me?”

“But I have,” she said. “I’ve asked you to think about what you know and believe. To go beyond that, the novice must ask for the door to be opened. But you aren’t ready to think of yourself as a student again—not yet. You run too well and easily to go back to crawling.”

#accurate. Luke spends most of this book so convinced he knows everything and yet he can’t figure out why he’s so stuck in a rut.

“No,” Luke said, shaking his head. “To be a Jedi is to be a seeker. A Jedi is always learning. It’s only on the dark side that one becomes obsessed with knowing, and impressed with doing.”

“There’s a touch of the dark side,” Akanah said slowly, “in the way you cling to the privilege of killing, and resist the teaching I’ve offered you. A hint of a mind that has settled on answers and resents being challenged with new questions.”

Luke toyed with the lacing on his longshirt as he considered her words. “You may be right,” he said finally. “I found the Force at a time when what I needed was power. I wanted a weapon to protect my friends, not enlightenment. I was thinking of war against the Empire, not peace with the universe. Perhaps something of that lingers in how I see myself. I’ll think on it.”

“Good,” she said. “Your words give me hope. And hope is the beginning of everything worthwhile.”

I have no idea how the chronology lines up with the other plots and honestly it’s hard to care. This is the most interesting part of the book to me, and I’m STILL reeling at how late in the game this is.

He then took advantage of the open space inside the bay to work his first complete set of Jedi training drills since leaving Coruscant. Working both with and without his lightsaber, he patiently went through the complex exercises which brought him to a profound state of restful clarity.

It was in this state that he felt most keenly the truth and the wisdom of the simple words: There is no emotion; there is peace. There is no ignorance; there is knowledge. There is no passion; there is serenity. There is no death; there is the Force. The peace, the knowledge, and the serenity were gifts that came with his surrender to the Force and with his connection through the Force to all that was.

Sustaining that clarity was always the challenge. In the isolation of a Dagobah, the Jundland Wastes, or a hermitage on a frozen shore, an experienced Jedi could preserve that inner state indefinitely.

But the chaos of the real world was another matter. When ego returned, so did will. The surrender became tainted, the connection flawed. The clarity gradually slipped away under the continuous assault of elementary drives and passions. Even the greatest of the masters needed to perform the practice regularly lest they lose the discipline that made them what they were.

GAH. WHY IS IT ALWAYS DUALITY WITH YOU, KUBE-MCDOWELL? WHAT ABOUT  A MIDDLE WAY BETWEEN THE “TAINTED WORLD” AND “PURITY OF ISOLATION”. What about “entering the market-place with gift-bestowing hands”? And nothing ever stays the same “indefinitely”!!!!!

The drills were as much a test for the body as for the mind, and the docking bay’s newly sanitized shower brought a blissful peace to muscles that were telling Luke they had not been properly exercised in too long. He stood for a long time in the place where the six needle jets converged, letting the water flowing down his body become another meditation.

Yeah, maybe you should have thought of that in your hermitage-quarantine-sulk thing??

I’d forgotten about the bookstore full of Jedi forgeries!!! 

The offerings included Emperor Palpatine’s Principles of Power, a private publication for Imperial Moffs; the Sith book of offerings and rituals; the H’kig book of laws; and the secrets of forming Bilar-type claqa group-minds, among others—with a special discount if Luke took any three or more. Most of the documents were undoubtedly frauds, and none tempted Luke beyond idle curiosity over the skillfulness of the fraud.

And the Jabba’s palace re-creation OH MY GOODNESS:

But making his way to the outgate, Luke turned a corner and was taken aback by the brilliantly lit exterior of a club bar called Jabba’s Throne Room. Performing Nightly—The Original Max Rebo Band, said the scroll. Visit Jabba’s Guest Quarters with a Pleasure Slave. Face the Mighty Rancor in the Pit of Death—

Driven by an outraged curiosity, Luke joined the line and paid the membership charge without haggling. Inside, he descended a curving flight of stairs into a remarkably faithful copy of the throne room in Jabba’s desert palace on Tatooine. Some of the dimensions had been stretched to accommodate more tables in front of the bandstand and around the rancor pit, but the architecture and atmosphere were authentic.

“Why, it’s just like the Palace Museum,” [he] said to the tall and elegantly dressed Twi’lek barring the way at the bottom of the stairs.

“I’m afraid my master Jabba is away on business,” said the Bib Fortuna look-alike, nodding toward the empty dais. “But I’m having a little party in his absence, and I hope you’ll enjoy yourself.” His head-tails stirred in signal, and one of the scantily clad dancing girls hurried to him.

“Yes, Lord Fortuna,” the server said.

“Oola, this is a friend of mine,” said the major-domo. “Treat him well. Find him a seat at my best table.”

The same fiction was carried through everywhere else—an Ortolan keyboardist leading a jizz-wailer trio on the bandstand, the roaring of the rancor underfoot, an annoying Kowakian monkey-lizard skittering around the room stealing food and cackling rudely, even a carbon-frozen Han Solo hanging in the display alcove. But a busy kitchen was concealed down the corridor to the servant’s quarters, and the price card “Oola” left for him included various services available upstairs in the guest quarters and downstairs in Jabba’s dungeon.

It was tasteless and exploitative, but the music was surprisingly agreeable, the roast nerf was tantalizing, and the clientele was markedly more subdued than their counterparts out on the walks. [He] ordered a drink and the executioner’s cut of nerf, refused all other offers with a polite smile, and settled in to discover the truth quotient of The Secrets of the Jedi.

Shortly after his meal arrived, Luke’s consciousness was pricked by hearing a familiar name spoken at a nearby table: Leia’s. He looked up, fearing that the evening’s entertainment at Jabba’s Throne Room would be a dance by a slave-girl-Leia look-alike. But the band was on a break and the transparisteel dance platform over the rancor pit deserted.

I’m honestly surprised this isn’t at Galaxy’s Edge, tbh.

Shortly after, a holographic Jabba made an appearance on the dais above the main floor. That signaled the start of an elaborately scripted show that promised to involve not only “Bib Fortuna” and the dancers, but additional actors and the audience as well.

Luke took that as his cue to leave. His decision was affirmed when, climbing up the curving stairs to the street, he encountered the bounty hunter Boushh coming down them with an unconvincing Chewbacca in tow.

“Aren’t you a little short for a Wookiee?” he muttered under his breath as they passed.

LOL. Anyway, here’s some stuff on archives searches in the GFFA:

From Carratos he requested any information available from newsgrid, political, or police records on Akanah Norand Pell, Andras Pell, and Talsava. He sent the same query to Coruscant’s criminal records office and citizen registry and to the home offices of both the Coruscant Global Newsgrid and the New Republic Prime Newsgrid.

From the New Republic Reference Service, he requested a quickreport on naming conventions on Lucazec and Carratos, thinking he might parse another lead from the names in hand.

A second request to the same source asked for five-hundred-word excerpts from all matches on the key words “Fallanassi” and “White Current.” After a short debate with himself, and despite the pathetic and sensational inaccuracies of Secrets of the Jedi, Luke also contacted an information broker on Atzerri and paid a hundred credits for a search on the same keys.

He also requested a Current Terms & Conditions brochure from the chief librarian’s office on Obroa-skai. The library computers there were the only resource offering both a greater variety and a greater volume of records than those held by Coruscant.

But Obroa-skai’s generosity with its planetary treasure was limited. To protect against theft of the library, and to provide the resources needed to maintain it, accessing the records meant either going to Obroa-skai or hiring one of the library’s own trained contract researchers.

In either case, Obroa-skai was not a resource one turned to for quick answers. The official language of New Republic recordkeeping was Basic, and everything held by Coruscant was kept in one of several readily searchable data specifications. But the Obroa-skai library was a collection of primary documents, in ten thousand storage formats and uncountable languages. The most complete general index covered only fifteen percent of the library’s holdings, and all the specialty indexes combined added only a few percent to that.

Those were the principal reasons why the brochure—which Luke received within minutes of requesting it, as the first response to any of his inquiries—reported that a normal single-part library search was averaging eight days. The waiting list for terminal time was holding at fifteen days, and the backlog for contract researchers had climbed to seventy.

LOL. I should definitely use that in a fic at some point.

[fakeyellow]

50 years after the battle, Kamilah deals with the aftermath of her betrayal and the loss of Laia. 

Meanwhile, Anya is a 22-year-old Londoner who can’t remember the first 18 years of her life.

Summary: Kamilah and co. win the war against Gaius but at great personal cost. Fifty years have passed since their pyrrhic victory when a stranger, looking exactly like the woman they lost, enters their lives. Part 1 here.  Part 3. Part 4.

It was remarkable, Kamilah mused as she walked down the streets of London, how everything could at once stay the same and be different. 

She’d last stepped foot on this island over three hundred years ago, before she’d made the move to America, and while technological advancements had replaced the candlelit lamps with lightbulbs, it was still the same, bustling city she had once known. The New York Massacre of fifty years ago hadn’t even touched this island and their people walked blissfully unaware of the existence of the supernatural.

Her thoughts returned back to her home, New York City. Despite Gaius’s forces ravaging the city and forcing it into a state of evacuation, once Gaius had died, everything had returned to normal. Coming from a small port city, Grant Emerson had successfully burst on the scene, running for senator on the campaign of New York’s restoration and improvement. Adrian had been all too happy to donate to his cause upon sitting down with the man and New York had returned to its glittering city of edifices once more. 

The massacre had been explained away by a gas leak, carbon monoxide leaking into the streets and wreaking havoc on people’s minds until they grew crazy and attacked anyone around them. There had been scientists researching the traces of gas they found, searching for the compound that had caused such mania but even their numbers had dwindled until the massacre was just a footnote in New York’s illustrious history. 

It was amazing how resilient and ignorant mortals were willing to be in order to make everything fit into a neat narrative but then she had seen this happen all too many times before. 

And yet, even with their knowledge of the true events, vampire society had also returned to normal, the Council reforming to continue its all-encompassing rule over New York. Their numbers had been severely diminished in the battles but vampires were not a species that would easily allow itself to become extinct. 

All in all, it seemed everything had returned to normal upon Gaius’s death.

But Kamilah knew better.

She had lost the trust of her friends the moment she’d pretended to join Gaius again and it would take centuries before they trusted her again. Jax was outright hostile to her still, while Lily was uncharacteristically careful around her. Even Adrian, who had said he’d understood her actions, was distant with her, reminding her of the times when they’d first known each other. 

And Laia...

Something had broken in her the moment she’d seen the light disappear from Laia’s eyes, when she’d felt the life pour out of Laia’s body and spill all over the ground.

She had lost not only thousands of years of her life to Gaius, but the only person who mattered. There had been others, of course, whom Kamilah had loved but Laia. Laia had been the only woman to break past her defences and make her feel as if she were living again. 

Kamilah had done despicable things and committed countless atrocities that she had thought put her past the point of redemption. She’d wondered whether death would ever come for her, if her past acts would eventually catch up with her, and she’d resigned herself to a bleak eternity of guilt and shame.

But Laia had made her want to live. Laia had made her see that even vampires were capable of change and she’d made Kamilah want to be better not only for Laia, but for herself. She’d made her see that even despite her two thousand years on this Earth, there were still things unknown to her, experiences that she’d never had. And she had wanted to share all of these things with Laia. 

They just… hadn’t had enough time.

And now Kamilah was alone, and she hadn’t expected it to hurt this much. For her to so keenly feel the absence of the woman who should have been by her side. Fifty years had passed but the pain was still fresh and ever accumulating. She hadn’t been able to stop seeing Laia everywhere she looked, smelling Laia’s scent, hearing her laughter, the first ten years, but even now, sometimes she swore she could smell the faint scent of strawberries and violet.

Kamilah froze. 

That wasn’t in her imagination. She could smell the sweet scent wafting towards her from an unknown source and even though she knew it was impossible, even though she’d chased the scent down so many times only to realise it had been in her head, Kamilah began running.

All thoughts of her impending business meeting vanished, her mind consumed by that light aroma as she chased it down with her honed instincts. 

And there.

Kamilah felt the breathe escape from her in one fell gasp as she stared at the woman standing just down the street from her. Her ombre honey blonde hair was gone, replaced with warm chestnut tresses with the slightest tint of auburn, but her eyes were the same. The slanted arch of her eyebrows, the slope of her nose, the curve of her lips, the dimple in her cheek. They were all the same.

As if she hadn’t died fifty years ago, Laia was standing in front of her. 

—-

Ever since she’d woken up from the accident, Anya had felt a restlessness inside of her. 

The doctors had told her that she was lucky to be alive, that the amnesia, while uncommon, was something that happened in some patients and her memories were just as likely to return as they were to not.

They never returned. And although she had baulked at the thought of living a life where the first 18 years of her life were completely blank, she had learned to move on. 

The first few months had been the roughest and it had only been through the support of Sera, that Anya had finally learned to leave the past behind. The woman had been with her from the very moment she’d woken up, and even though Anya couldn’t remember anything about her, Sera had been an infinite source of comfort and knowledge about who she was.

But still, even as Anya learned that her parents had died when she was a child, that she had been visiting Sera in Paris before she entered university back in London, that she had always wanted to become a museum curator, even as she slowly pieced together who Anya Altomare was… she felt a restlessness in her. 

She didn’t feel whole; it was as if there was something absolutely vital missing in her, an empty hole in her heart that couldn’t seem to be fixed no matter what she did. It had taken a year for her to stop bursting into tears whenever she smelled the scent of lavender and Sera hadn’t been able to provide her an explanation. 

But she had needed to move on and so Anya had gone to university for four years, immersing herself in her studies and making friends even as she felt like she was only masquerading as Anya Altomare and that there was somewhere else she desperately needed to be. 

This feeling hadn’t disappeared even after she’d graduated and Anya had spent a year in an archaeological dig, excavating the ruins of a newly unearthed fortress in the deserts of Egypt, as if she would also be able to discover who she was. 

Yet, even that had failed and still feeling like only a shell of a person, Anya was back in London, looking for jobs as a museum curator. Her friends had decided they needed to celebrate her return to London at their favourite bar, but the nonstop stream of chatter quickly wore away at her. 

That was why Anya was outside right now, reflecting about the half-life she was living and morosely wondering if she’d ever feel whole. Anya sighed and turned to go back inside when she suddenly made eye contact with a woman at the end of the street. 

It was dark but there was no mistaking that this was the most beautiful woman Anya had ever seen and the sight made her heart feel like it would swallow her whole. Her eyes were a bottomless brown that Anya could have drowned herself in, her face framed by gleaming sheets of hair that Anya longed to run her fingers through. 

Her every feature seemed perfect as if they had been lovingly chiseled by a sculptor, but there was something devastatingly tragic about her, as if there was a wasteland of heartbreak underneath her composed exterior. Anya instinctively stepped towards her, feeling a need to comfort the woman, to embrace the woman, to caress her cheek when suddenly-

“ANYA!” 

Her friends called out to her in the bar, and by the time Anya looked back towards the woman, the street was empty as if she had never been there. Only the faint smell of lavender lingered behind and shaking the strange wistfulness that had overcome her, Anya went back into the bar. 

—-

(1 day later)

Kamilah furiously tore at the ground with a shovel, calluses forming and bursting open on her hands only to instantly heal over. She was a woman with a single-minded determination that had caused her to cancel all of her London appointments and fly straight back to New York, going immediately from the jet to the cemetery she was now in. 

There was no way Laia was alive. She’d seen the life leave her body, she’d felt the cold, heartless corpse against her arms, she’d Turned Laia too late. It was impossible. 

Her white silk blouse turned brown from the dirt but she paid no attention to it, focusing solely on the coffin that was slowly being revealed with each throw of dirt. At last, she threw her shovel to the side in frustration and lifted the lid using sheer force only to unceremoniously drop it and slump over in shock.

It was empty.

—-

(5 days later)

Anya cupped a mug of coffee, sipping on it slowly as she checked her email. She was currently staying at a friend’s after having returned from Egypt but she needed to find a job and an apartment soon. She couldn’t stand being a freeloader for long. 

She had sent her resume out to a variety of museums focusing particularly on ones that had ancient Egyptian exhibits (her specialty) but it seemed there just weren’t many museums looking for new curators. Sighing in frustration, she quickly refreshed her inbox only for her thumb to freeze over the new email that had appeared. 

Anya immediately pressed on it, her eyes rapidly skimming the letter that had arrived as if she were afraid it would disappear. 

“Dear Ms. Altomare… highly recommended by Professor Cunningham…  curator for a private collection of Ancient Egyptian artefacts… full benefits and a fully furnished apartment in the company building…”

She let out a scream of delight, jumping up and down as she clutched her phone to her chest. This had to be a dream. There was no way she could get her dream job in her dream field with a staggeringly high compensation rate. Suddenly furrowing her brows in worry, Anya rechecked the email, looking at the signature.

“Sincerely, Gabriel Sapienti, Assistant to Kamilah Sayeed, CEO of Ahmanet Financial.”

A quick search online revealed that Ahmanet Financial wasn’t only reputable, it was the company for all things finance-related and it was in the heart of New York. While she’d always wanted to go to the city across the oceans, Sera had always advised her against it, citing the violent, busy, and dirty nature of the streets. 

Anya sighed at this; if Sera were here, she’d definitely warn Anya away from this job. She could practically hear her friend’s voice in her head talking about how things that seemed too good to be true were exactly that: too good to be true. But everything seemed to check out and Anya wasn’t going to let go of this perfect opportunity. 

With a tremulous heart and a resolve to tell Sera later, Anya emailed back the assistant. 

She was going to New York.

—-

A/N: Bonus points to anyone who knows where I got Anya’s full name from. 

I ended up changing the time skip from 1 year to 50 years because that opened it up to a lot more angst and possibilities. Don’t worry, I have an explanation for all of the years/ages and it’ll all be revealed soon. Just hold tight! 

There should be 3-4 more parts to this and I hope you’ll continue to read. Thanks so much for all the support!! 

[argylemnwrites]

Seven Year Itch

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x MC (Cassie Vanderfield)

Book: Open Heart (6 years after the end of Book 1)

Word Count: ~1500

Rating: PG

Summary: Bryce finds himself unusually sentimental as a large chapter in his life draws to a close.

Author’s Note: Written for Day 31 of the Choices July Challenge (prompt - Endings). This was an anon request, and hopefully it is as fluffy as they were hoping for!

Bryce pushed the arrow button several times before landing on the option that he’d rarely used over the past seven years. He hovered for a moment before pushing the select button twice. His pager was officially off.

He hadn’t expected it to be emotional. He’d even gone so far as to tease Cassie when she’d told him it would be that morning.

“I’m telling you, Bryce, it’s a big deal. Sienna and I cried.”

“Cassie, you didn’t even leave Edenbrook for fellowship!”

“It was still emotional, Bryce. It’ll be your last moment as a resident.”

“Yeah, somehow I don’t think I’m gonna get all torn up over not having to carry the first call pager or having to work 30 hours straight for $15 an hour.”

Those had been his words, yet here he was, feeling a wave of sadness wash over him as he entered the Graduate Medical Education office, ID badge and now turned-off pager in hand. As he walked over to the desk of the administrative assistant, she gave him a warm smile.

“Last shift, huh? Congratulations, doctor!” she said brightly, extending her hands out, taking two of the objects he’d carried with him everywhere for the past seven years and dropping them in a box on her desk.

“Anything else you need from me?”

“You already turned in any hospital scrubs?”

He nodded. He’d taken care of that last month, after his last operation. The past four weeks had been a medical education elective, and he hadn’t seen the inside of an OR at all.

“Then you’re all set!”

So, that was it. He was done with residency. Seven years wrapped up, just like that, with the handing off of a pager and an ID badge. It felt like it should take more than a simple drop off to bring this part of his life to an end. But that was all it took to transition from Bryce Lahela, surgical resident to Bryce Lahela, surgical oncology fellow. 

Bryce usually wasn’t one for introspection, but damn if Cassie hadn’t been right. He did feel emotional over it all, and as he got on the T, he couldn’t help but think back on the past seven years and everything that had happened. 

He remembered the surgeries, all his time in the OR. All the cases he’d scrubbed in on, the incisions he’d made, the tumors he debulked, the organs he procured. He remembered the doctors he’d worked with and learned from, some of them brilliant attendings, others his own peers. He remembered his patients. Not all of them, of course, but there were the ones that stuck with him. The ones he’d saved against all odds. The ones he’d lost in spite of his best effort.

And that didn’t even touch on everything that had happened to him in his personal life over the past seven years. Meeting Cassie. Buying their loft together. Sliding that ring onto her finger. Getting married and starting a family. Things he would have never anticipated when he opened that envelope on Match Day and saw he was going to Edenbrook.

He knew he wouldn’t be where he was today without her. She’d always thanked him for his unconditional support, but Bryce knew that street went both ways. Sure, he’d been there for her through a lot of drama during their intern year, but she’d paid that back ten times over, at least. From her ranking Edenbrook first when she was applying for fellowships so that they wouldn’t have to do long distance to her enthusiasm when he told her that he was going to go for surgical oncology, even though that meant two years of research before his fellowship. From her paying down his student debt once she started earning an attending salary to her covering the cost of all of his fellowship applications. And then, when he’d matched not at Edenbrook or Dana-Farber as they had hoped, but at Duke, she’d applied for a North Carolina medical license, even when she found out none of the diagnostics teams around Durham were hiring at that time. She was willing to uproot her life, move from Boston, and take a job that was not an ideal fit, all so that he could pursue the training he wanted.

As he got off the T at the stop a few blocks from their loft, he realized how strange it was going to be to leave Boston. He never really thought about Boston as his home, but now that the movers were coming tomorrow afternoon, he knew how much he would miss it. The restaurants, the museums and history, their neighborhood, their friends. Hell, he might even miss the winters. Even though he still said he was from Hawaii, Boston held more precious memories for him than any other place. And never was that more clear than when he stepped through the door of their loft, taking in the chaos.

Boxes were everywhere, stacked along the walls, piled in the middle of the living space, covering the table and the couch. But even with everything that was already packed, there was still so much left to do. The kitchen cabinets were all thrown open, and there was still a lot of shit in them. One of the bookcases by the window was still completely full. And far too many of Kendall’s toys were still scattered across the floor.

Bryce had never thought he’d be one to get sentimental over something like moving out of a place, but the birth of his daughter had changed all that. Now, instead of seeing a nice space that was a convenient commute to Edenbrook, the loft represented so much more. It was the first home that Kendall had known, even though she probably wouldn’t remember anything about it. It was where he’d first seen her smile, first heard her laugh, first watched her walk, first heard her call him “Dada” as she reached for him. And the thought of leaving that place behind was just a little sad.

As if his thoughts summoned her, she came toddling out of the master bedroom, making a beeline for a box in the corner that hadn’t been taped shut yet. She nearly fell over as she peered inside, but kept her balance for long enough to pull out her stuffed octopus before falling down on her butt.

“Hey baby girl, I think Momma had that packed up for a reason,” he said, scooping her up. She smiled at him, but immediately started crying when the octopus slipped out of her hands, tumbling to the ground. At that sound, Cassie came out of the bedroom herself, relief evident on her face when she saw him.

“Thank god you’re home. I ran out of strapping tape three hours ago, and she figured out which boxes have her toys. She’s been unpacking all afternoon,” she blurted out, dropping a kiss on his cheek as she brushed past him, picking up the octopus and returning it to the box.

“I think I can handle a tape run. You want me to take her with me? I can bring back some pizza, too.”

She smiled warmly at him. “You’re a saint.”

“That’s a new one. Hero, godsend, world’s greatest, sure, but never a saint. I’m pretty sure that requires approval from the pope.”

She rolled her eyes as she brought the stroller over to him, “I’m not gonna dignify that with a response. Pick up some more bubble wrap, too. I have the feeling we’ll run out at 2 am if you don’t.”

“You think it’ll be an all-nighter, then?”

Cassie sheepishly gestured around, “I mean, don’t you? There’s still a ton to do. Sorry about that.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s fine. Not like we both haven’t pulled worse for work.”

“I know, I know. But this isn’t the way you should be celebrating the end of residency. We should be getting a sitter, hitting up Donahue’s one last time.”

Bryce shrugged. Sure, seven years ago, that’s probably how he would have pictured his last night as a resident, enjoying one last drunken hurrah with his co-residents. But now, he couldn’t imagine wanting to spend this night with anyone other than his wife and kid. 

“Probably shouldn’t have knocked you up if bar nights were that important to me.” She raised her eyebrows and opened her mouth to make a retort, but Bryce just shook his head. “I still get to spend my first night of freedom with two ladies, so I think I’m doing just fine.” She laughed at that, the sound echoing more than usual now that so many of their pillows, rugs, and curtains had been packed away. 

“Alright, Kendall. One last Boston adventure?” he asked, snapping her into the stroller.

Pushing her down the sidewalk, he decided to embrace this evening’s wave of sentimentality. It was only natural to feel emotional as his time in Boston came to an end. His life had changed so much, nearly entirely for the better, over the past seven years. And while he would miss the life he and Cassie had built here, he knew that no matter where the next seven years took them, whether they stayed in North Carolina or moved on after his fellowship, that they would make the best of things. Together.

Tags: @omgjasminesimone @mfackenthal @lilyofchoices @thequeenchoices @octobereighth @feartheendlesssummer @tallulahshh @fortunatelywaywardsandwich @dreaming-of-movies @choicesarehard @pinkcoloredmarshmallow @kinda-iconic @choicesjulychallenge

[gotboredwrote]

Etymology of Us // TM!JFM

Pairing: Tim Murphy x Fem!Reader Word Count: 4K Style: One-Shot Warnings: (16+) Fluff, explicit-ish talk about sexual themes – no smut (implied), swearing Summary: Everyone who knows Tim knows he’s a smart guy, but they think it’s all about the dinosaurs. For the most part, that’s true. He does have a few other passions, though, and he always unconsciously demonstrates that for you, even in the most personal of situations. Permanent Author’s Note: To clarify, I write because I get bored. Nothing is meant to be professional in any way, nor is meant to offend, cause anxiety, cause anger, cause sadness, or promote disagreement among readers in any sort of (semi)permanent way. A/N: I have a lot of confidence in the fact that Tim would be educated on more than dinosaurs, and this just happened to be something I felt really strong Tim vibe from. So, yeah. I’m not proud of the introductory part of this story, but whatever lol.

Masterlist

~

You know Tim is smart. So does everyone who knows him. Except you know him a lot more intimately than most. Considering you have been together for almost six months, after having met him at the museum during a tour, there is not a lot you have not done together. You have gone on every kind of date imaginable, and gone almost all the way romantically when you would stay the night at each other’s apartments. It was the best relationship either of you had been in for a number of reasons, and it felt like you were soulmates. Tim never ceased to amaze you every single day, part of the reason your relationship was so strong. You felt like you learned more about love, life, random knowledge, and dinosaurs than you ever did in all your years of formal education. He was a bookworm and always had new information to willingly share with you, something he would never do with past girlfriends. They did not care like you do, something else that made your relationship so strong. There was mutual pining and mutual adoration and acceptance of the other’s personality – key for a healthy relationship. Tim started teaching you things even back on your first date, and even then, you knew that this boy would make a large impact on you.

~

The first date you went on was extremely traditional, which was classic Tim, as you would come to find out. It was not a super fancy restaurant, but one of those places where you did not feel you could just wear a raggedy tee shirt and jeans or leggings. You elected for something a little nicer, and once the two of you were at the restaurant, you fell into conversation easily. Like two friends who have not seen each other in years and have tons of catching up to do. No awkwardness, no nerves – just two people having a pleasant dinner who also happen to be on a date. The conversation spread across all topics from family to friends to hobbies, and eventually it settled on work. Ever since the two of you met, you had so many one-on-one questions you wanted to ask Tim about his work. You prefaced with one specific memory that flooded your mind.

[flashback start]

You met because you had attended a tour he was hosting on the Mesozoic era, generally aimed at children aged six to fifteen. He had been given a roster of how many people to expect, which was quite a few, and he noticed that you had walked in not bringing a child like most of the adults on the tour. At first, he thought maybe you were looking for a sister that brought your niece or nephew and you just happened to be tagging along, but then you made no effort to find anyone. When he realized you had come alone, he worked up the courage to come over to you and ask if you were in the right spot.

“Ma’am?”

“Oh! You’re Dr. Murphy, aren’t you?”

“Yes, um, are you in the right place? This is a tour for a younger audience.”

“Well, unless I read my ticket wrong,” you held your ticket out in front of his eyes so he could read it, “I believe this says ‘Dr. Timothy Murphy’s Presentation on the Mesozoic Era, Thursday, August 14 at 1:00pm.’ Did I read it wrong?”

Tim simply looked at the ticket, and then back to you in a stunned silence. You had really bought a ticket to see his presentation, despite knowing that almost all the tours he does in the museum are for younger kids.

“No, uh, you… you didn’t read it wrong.”

“You seem a little shocked that I have a ticket, Doctor.”

“Well, it’s just that I don’t really get people my age on these tours, and everyone who comes to the lectures are old coots.”

You laughed at his vernacular, loving how professor-like and old man-like such a young, cute guy could be. When he heard you laugh, his eyes went wide and he felt his heart skip a beat, because a young, cute girl loved his jokes, which never happened.

“Sorry for how bold I just was – that’s not how I usually am. Basically, I have tried attending your lectures in the past, but whenever I get the money to buy a ticket, they’re usually gone or the only seats left are one’s I can’t afford. I’ve read all of your books, some of them more than once, and you just never cease to amaze me. You’re really smart and I admire that.”

Tim felt dizzy. He was hearing the words coming out of your mouth, barely being able to process how kind they were. Never had anyone spoken to him in such a way, not even his colleagues or past girlfriends, of which there were not many because he was always so busy or they hated how involved in his work he could get. But to hear you say them just changed his whole perspective on life. He did not even know your name but he was enamored with you. One could call him desperate, and he would just scoff and look down at his feet. Not denying it, however.

“Well, um… listen. Normally with the kids, I have to dumb down my word choices because the younger ones won’t know everything, so I apologize in advance for how childlike I may present myself.” You smiled sweetly at him, acknowledging him and showing him that you did not mind. “I also would love to have you attend my lectures every time we have them, so let me see what I can do about arranging a sort of ‘seasonal pass’ for you, that way you never have to worry about a seat.”

“Dr. Murphy, you do not—”

“I’m serious. Like I said, it’s always older men who are always judgmental about the way I hold myself up on stage. I’m… not a bold person. I’m shy, and they don’t like that. It would be really nice to have a face like yours in the crowd each night. One that I know is appreciating everything I say, wholeheartedly.”

“‘A face like mine?”’

“…” You could see Tim visibly swallow and his Adam’s apple bob out of sheer panic. “A cute one?”

You felt your lips part slightly at the compliment, somewhat shocked that someone as clearly shy as him paid you one. You knew that coming from someone like him, it had to be genuine. Dr. Tim Murphy thought you were cute, and wanted to see you again. Even if it was only for a lecture.

“Then… this cute face would love to attend all your lectures, Dr. Murphy.”

You saw the toothy grin spread across his face, pushing his cheeks up to high heaven. It made you airily laugh a little, seeing him like that.

“If you keep smiling like that, I’m going to have to start calling you cute, too, Dr. Murphy.”

“I wouldn’t mind that. But there is one thing you have to do for me.”

“What’s that?”

“Call me Tim. Not Dr. Anything. Just Tim.” You nodded your head at him, and he asked you one last thing. “And what should I call you?”

“Y/N.”

[flashback end]

“You remember how we met?”

“Of course, I do – you came to that tour for children and I wanted to make sure you were in the right place.”

“Always the gentleman, Tim.” You and Tim had been finishing up dinner on your first official date, reminiscing about that day. It seemed like you already crammed a lifetime’s worth of memories into that first meeting you had, because you had managed to talk about it for the last fifteen minutes. “I remember being amazed at how you talked to those kids. I mean, you clearly know tons of bigger words that younger children wouldn’t know, yet you know how to explain it to them really well. It made me very impressed with you, seeing that you really were as smart as your books made you out to be.”

“Yeah, I had to explain everything like that because they weren’t going to understand what Mesozoic meant or anything like that. They’re children, and they just like the idea of dinosaurs, not the actual history of them. Back when I was in college, there were certain root words or stems that we needed to know in order to understand the classification of dinosaurs. For some reason, learning about the way the classification worked sparked something in my brain. I love learning about whatever I can, and I guess that was my body’s way of telling me etymology was something for me. I started researching where words came from, going through the dictionary word by word. Seems boring, I know, but… it made me happy.”

You could see Tim start to feel as if he was talking too much, like all his past dates went, except that when he looked up at you, he could tell that was not the case. You had leaned your body in and over the table, propping your head up on your fist, intently staring at him. Taking in every word that slipped past his lips as if your life depended on it. This encouraged him, while also making him really giddy inside. He reached over to the small candle that was burning faintly between you two, and lifted it up, carefully so as not to burn himself. He watched you as your eyes moved to the candle, and back to his own, waiting to hear what he was going to say.

“Like… candle, for instance. Originally, it was candere in Latin, which means ‘be white or glisten.’ Eventually, that became candela, still Latin, and then old English turned it into candel. Then, when modern English came around, we switched the ‘l’ and the ‘e,’ probably because it just looks less ugly.” He let out a chuckle at his own humor. “But, that’s kind of what I did with the dictionary. Learning about where words come from, and what they originally meant intrigues me.”

His eyes had not really left the candle once he started to speak. Once he finished talking, however, his eyes nervously looked back into yours. Your facial expression had changed, ever so slightly. Your eyes had gone a little wider than usual, and they were sparkling, more than usual. Then he noticed that your cheeks were a dusty pink and that you had pulled a small part of your bottom lip into your mouth with your teeth. Tim was not the most experienced, considering how girls would treat him in the past, but he could practically feel the tension radiating from you. Something about him knowing those things made you feel… good?

“You’re amazing, Tim. Really.”

“Thanks. I know plenty more where that came from.”

“I’d love to hear more.”

~

Every day since your first date, Tim would always make it a point to showcase his smarts to you in the way that seemed to make you feel a certain way, because he liked seeing that he could have an effect on a woman that way. Especially considering that woman was you. One night, you and Tim were hanging out at his apartment after a date night. The two of you had created a small tradition where if your date ends quicker than expected and you end up back at one of the apartments, you will watch Jeopardy. Tim quickly found out, since you suggested watching the show in the first place, that you loved to learn too, and even though he could typically get about half of the show’s questions right, he loved seeing how proud you got with yourself when you would get three total. Tonight was no exception. You made it back just in time for the show to start, and the two of you were patiently waiting to see what the categories would be for the first round. The first five were announced, each earning a groan from one or both of you at the fact that they were not really subjects you know. Then the sixth one came up.

“And finally, you will be dealing with etymology. [First contestant’s name], you begin the round. Let’s begin.”

You turn to Tim and see a huge smile across his face, and you could not help but reciprocate. You two had seen so many episodes and not once had the category that practically formed your relationship come up. Now, on a night where you two are snuggled into each other, your head on his chest, enjoying the warmth radiating from the other person, that was just the icing on the cake. The contestants seemed to be avoiding the etymology category, moving all around the board in no semblance of order except for skipping that one, and you could hear Tim groan above you.

“Why are they skipping it? It’s the best one up there!”

“I know, babe, but the anticipation makes it worth the wait, right?”

“I guess.”

You could just imagine the small pout Tim had plastered onto his face, knowing that he would have to sit and wait for a commercial break now, as well. It made you smile to yourself, because you had seen that face before when he would work on something and he got intensely focused. It was an adorable face that he only made around you – he never let anyone else see him like that. It made you feel really loved. Eventually, the show came back on and the contestants really did do everything else and left the entire etymology category last. When the final question popped up before the etymology category would start, you turned up to Tim and smiled, as if to say ‘ready to show off your smarts, brainiac?’and he knew exactly what you meant. His eyes were beaming widely, ready to shout out the answers before anyone on the screen could.

“…cable.”

“Neighborhood!”

“Manure. Ew.”

“Aerosol.”

“…Hourglass?”

So far, Tim had gotten every single one correct, and the contestants only managed to get the neighborhood one correct. Then it was time for the final question, and you were waiting to see if Tim was going to make it a clean sweep. Then the question popped up and you waited patiently.

“From Ancient Greek, a diminutive of uncertain origin and probably in reference to its location on the female body, it means ‘I sheathe or shut.’”

“Clitoris!”

Tim was one hundred percent correct, and for some reason, despite the energetic and completely innocent nature in which he said it, it lit a fire in you that only Tim could put out. But you did not want to make it obvious, because he was clearly so happy with himself that he got the entire category right. So, you simply decide to ‘award him’ with a small kiss, but you moved your body upward a little bit so your head could reach the crevasse of his neck and shoulders. The kiss was small, swift, and chaste, but the location is what mattered. Tim had been smiling and celebrating himself, but the feeling of your lips on the small but small amount of exposed skin from his tee shirt stopped him in his tracks, and it made him blink rapidly and swallow a little roughly. You felt as though this was his way of encouraging you to keep going, since he never told you to stop. You lifted your head a little bit, so your mouth was lined up right with the side of his neck, where you placed a breathy, open-mouthed kiss. Still teasingly short, too short for Tim’s liking. You could hear your boy moan quietly, clearly having some kind of effect on him. You wanted him to feel the way you did as he innocently shouted out a part of your body you wished was getting attention from him now.

“Do you know where the word ‘kiss’ comes from?

You hum lightly against his neck where you were still peppering wet kisses to. You squeaked out a ‘no,’ waiting for him to continue with his thought, if he could.

“It has Germanic o-origin, and comes from the old English cyssan… shit. I… I think you know what it means.”

“Mhm.” He could feel the vibrations of your response against his neck, and he groaned louder this time, not wanting to hold back anymore. He could feel you start to pull away and stand up, practically whining at the lack of contact. He did not want you to leave, and you could tell. But you had absolutely no idea what gave him the idea that you were going to be leaving his side anytime soon.

As you stood, you lightly took his hand in your own, and pulled on it to signal him to stand with you. You made sure your back was facing him, though, because you did not want him to see how desperate for him you had become. Now that both of you were standing, you begin to walk as slow as a tortoise toward his bedroom, hoping that he would get the picture and start pampering you and worshiping you on the way there. You felt like you were in a movie, considering how cliché this whole thing is. But neither of you cared, you just needed to get the cliché’s out of the way. Eventually, it clicks in his brain that he should be following you, and he makes up the distance by walking directly behind you, lightly running his fingers up and down your spine. One particular stroke down your spine went further than the others, and you could feel Tim lightly tug on the hem of your shirt. Indicating that he wants it gone. He spoke in a whisper so quiet you could barely hear him.

“How about the word shirt? It’s from the Old English scyrte, which is Germanic. It kind of means short.”

With every new word Tim chose to tell you, he gained confidence in what he was doing, indicated by the non-shakiness of his voice. You were proud underneath it all. While Tim is speaking, you could slowly feel the fabric inch up your torso with every word. You could begin to feel the cold air of his apartment on your skin, and your body tells you that you need some kind of warmth. You fight off every reflex in your body telling you to latch onto Tim or at least steal your shirt back, not wanting to ruin the moment both of you had been waiting for six months to happen. You never saw it, but you could hear the light noise his shirt made when it hit the floor, Tim always wanting to make sure the two of you were even in all aspects. Even something as intimate as this. You both continue your ascension to his bedroom, and eventually you reach it. What should have taken about ten seconds for any normal person took the two of you practically three minutes, Tim adoring the look and feel of your back and spine, you relishing in the feeling of being appreciated in such an intimate way, something no one has ever done for you before Tim. You reach for the doorknob and simultaneously turn around to see what kind of effect you were having on your boyfriend, and it was clearly the one you wanted. He already looked fucked out, and neither of you had really touched each other. Not the way you both needed to be. Once completely facing him, you turn your hand on the doorknob to let yourselves in, and his hand comes up to your face to lightly stroke and pull on your hair. The strokes to show you he loves you, the tugging to let you know he wants and needs you.

“Hair’s a funny word originally. Hær. Old English, again.”

As he was speaking, you had lost all ability to move your legs anymore, feeling like they would collapse under you simply from the fact that Tim was being the way he was. Most people would have found him annoying for bringing up things like he was during a time like this. For you, though, it made him hotter because he was not afraid to be himself, even in the most intimate of situations. He was smart, and he liked showing you. You also loved the fact that letting him continue to talk was making him more and more confident in the things he was doing to your body, which was a win-win for both of you. Eventually, you were snapped out of your thoughts by the feeling of Tim’s body pushing against yours to get you into his bedroom, fast, based on the force of the push. He does not even need to look behind him as he locks the door, and wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into his body. It was killing both of you that there still had not been any mouth to mouth contact in this whole situation, but you were both holding out in order to let Tim continue to speak, and to build up the anticipation for later. He did, however, pull you close enough to his body where you could feel each other’s breathing on your lips, desperate and needy, if breaths could feel such a way. You had not even realized Tim had gotten you to move again, so entranced by his breathing and his facial features, until you hit the side of his bed and your knees buckled underneath you. Your bum hit the bed and you bounced lightly, which normally would have made you laugh. This time, feelings were different. More serious. More lust-driven. Once you realized Tim was done taking initiative and wanted to trade off with you, you reached forward to hook your hands into the pockets of his jeans, and you not-so-gently yanked his body to yours. Your face was flush against his chest, chin practically resting on it, and you could feel the front of his jeans where you wanted him against your stomach. You were gazing up at him, face flush pink and eyes blown out black and half-shut. Waiting to hear him speak again. You saw him reach his arms toward your body, lightly resting his hands on your waist and then proceeding to find the waistline of your pants. Just as you began to reach for the buckle on his belt, you heard his angelic voice again.

“How about hips, wanna know where that word came from?”

You never said a word, and neither did he. All that was exchanged was a small pause and silent stares. You were both waiting for the other to make the next move, because both of you knew deep in your cores that if the other took another step forward, the night would end up being far from over. Tim could not take waiting anymore, so he crashed his mouth down onto yours like his life depended on it, and that he would never get to kiss you again at the same time. It was deep, passionate, full of love, and driven by lust. It was never a small kiss to begin with, so much so that it was practically impossible for either of you to deepen the kiss in any way. Tim thought of one more word that he wanted to teach you, so he slowly pulled away from your mouth, the tiniest string of saliva still connecting the two of you. Normally, that would be something you found disgusting, but in that moment, the part of you from the final Jeopardy question started throbbing at the site, indicating your desperation and just how passionate the kiss really was.

“What about the word sex?”

Tim had still been pressed flush against you, and at this point, you could clearly feel what effect you were having on him through his jeans. He caught you off guard with the question he asked, and your motions stopped just as you reached the button of his jeans.

“Instead of telling me, why don’t you just show me… Doctor?

Tim taught you a lot that night. And you taught him a thing or two, as well.

Permanent Taglist: n/a

Specific Story/Character Taglist: @gardnerlangway @dr-tim-murphy

[eldritchsurveys]

712.

Have you always known what you've wanted to do with your life, career-wise? >> By the time I really gave careers much thought, I was already old enough to know that it wouldn’t be feasible for me. So I never thought much about having one.

If you found out you couldn't bear children, would you be willing to adopt? >> Adoption would be the only option for us, if we really wanted to raise a child.

Can you not listen to a band if the singer sounds whiny? >> I mean, I don’t know. It’s possible a couple of the singers I listen to are considered whiny by someone, and I just don’t hear them that way myself.

Would you stay at a haunted hotel? >> I’d rather not tempt the fates like that. I’ve seen 1408.

Could you live without the Internet? >> I could, but I’d really rather not, thanks.

Do you always remember to bring a towel? >> If this is a reference, then heh, I get it. If it isn’t, then, uh, why am I bringing towels places? (Except the beach, I guess?)

Spiders: Kill them or let 'em go? >> I always let my children go. They deserve to live as much as I do. If I don’t want them in my home for some reason (or, rather, if Sparrow asks me to remove one), then I’ll just put them outside, no big deal.

How do you feel about Paris Hilton? >> I don’t have any feelings about Paris Hilton. She was cool in Repo! the Genetic Opera, though.

When drunk, are you: violent, crazy, clingy, talkative, or depressed? >> Tired, mostly. Which is why I don’t drink so much now. A buzz is quite enough for recreation, anything past that is just... lay-down time.

Do you know who is on the $5000 bill? (yes, it does exist!) >> I didn’t know it existed and I’m not curious enough about it to look it up.

What is the best HAND-MADE present you've ever recieved? >> ---

Do you Yahoo? >> Nah.

Have you ever TP'ed someone? >> Nope.

Have you ever gotten pizza delivered to your house that you didn't order? >> Nope.

What's the most disgusting thing you've ever encountered while at a hotel? >> Roaches, I guess.

What would you do if Hugh Hefner hit on you? >> I wouldn’t be anywhere near Hugh Hefner, thanks.

Is the price always right? >> What.

Do you smell what the Rock is cookin'!?!? >> Sure.

Are you gullible? >> I can be about some things, I’d imagine. But mostly I’m sceptical enough to survive.

What's the craziest rumor you've heard about Marilyn Manson? >> You know, the same one everyone’s heard, about the rib removal.

(Insert random song lyric of your choice here): >> No, thanks.

Does unneccessary punctuation annoy you? >> The only time it’s annoying for me is when people do it with commas. Like,,,,, like that. It’s because it’s associated in my mind with a certain trend of behaviour on tumblr (and maybe elsewhere, but it really took hold here) a few years ago that I found completely repulsive.

Do you know anyone who was born on leap year? >> I feel like I do, but I can’t remember who.

Do you follow a 5-second rule after dropping food on the floor? >> No, I follow a “how clean do I believe this floor is” rule, and it really only applies in my own apartment. Anywhere else, I just consider it a loss.

Do you think that only unclean people get head lice? >> Not at all.

What are you squeamish about? >> “Wet” chores (kitchen + bathroom), the bathroom in general, etc.

Are you skilled with balls? (like basketball or baseball, you perv!) >> No.

Did you take Flintstone vitamins or any others as a child? >> I don’t remember. Probably.

What types of things do you think the government is hiding from us? >> I don’t care to speculate.

What would you do if the Kool-Aid man busted through your wall? >> I can’t even imagine this happening.

Have you ever been to an art museum? Aren't paintings so cool?! >> Yeah, I’ve been to art museums. Paintings are very cool, I just don’t personally care for a lot of the ones I’ve seen in museums. Art being a subjective experience and all, you understand.

How do you like your soda: bottles, cans, or straight from the fountain? >> Bottles.

Do you recycle? >> No.

Can one person really make a difference? >> Sure. It just might not be the grand-scale one you wanted to make.

Which is worse: elevators or escalators? >> I’m not bothered by either.

Are you gonna make your momma proud? >> My mother is not interested in me.

Ring the bell for service or wait patiently for a minute first? >> Wait patiently for a minute first.

Boomerang or Cartoon Network? >> ---

Have you learned anything valuable today? Share it & make us all smarter! >> Everything I’ve learned today is about Silent Hill 4, so...

Do you memorize random facts? >> No. Sparrow is the good-at-trivia person in this household, I have no head for it.

What's your favorite kind of Doritos? >> I hate Doritos.

Do your parents have MySpace pages? >> ---

If you had a time machine, would you go to the past or to the future? >> I would not use a time machine.

What if Darth Vader was YOUR father? >> Wouldn’t be too surprising. I already have a history of not-the-best dads.

You're at the zoo. In what direction must you go first? >> I mean, it really depends on the zoo.

Do you honestly know how to play Monopoly or just make up rules as you go? >> I know how to play it, I’m just not interested in it.

If you know the answer, do you blurt it out? >> What is the context for this... school? N/A, if so. Be honest...ever peed in the pool? >> Honestly, never.

Do you ever fathom the amount of words in the English language? >> Yeah, it’s pretty remarkable.

Have you ever pulled a fire alarm? >> Nope. That’d mainly be a self-punishment, considering my sensory defensiveness, lmao.

Do brain teasers tickle, confuse, or fascinate your brain? >> Sometimes confuse and sometimes fascinate.

You're hungry. All there is to eat is stale chips. Eat 'em or not? >> If I’m hungry, of fucking course. You could do a loooot worse than just some stale chips.

Have you had your tonsils removed? >> No.

If Ashton Kutcher punk'd you, would you feel the need to punch him? >> I’ve never actually seen that show, so I don’t know how obnoxious the pranks are. But I’m going to guess they’re pretty obnoxious, and I’d probably want to punch someone.

Have you ever fallen off of a treadmill while walking/running? >> No.

Do ya speak gangsta, son? >> ... So, I speak AAVE as well as more standard English, yes, and I’d personally prefer it if people treated our dialects with a little more care and respect.

Do you drink milk right from the bottle/carton, or pour yourself a glass? >> I don’t drink milk.

Isn't Chef Boyardee awesome? >> Not to me. There’s something vaguely attractive about pasta that tastes like metal, because I’m chronically iron-deficient, but nah, I’d rather just suck on a penny.

Do you like marshmellows in your hot cocoa? >> I don’t drink cocoa, but if I did, I’d probably like it loaded up with marshmallows.

What reality show has been taken WAY too far? >> All of them.

If you were going on a trip, would you Mapquest the directions first? >> Heh, Mapquest.

Do you hide when Jehovah's Witnesses knock on your door? >> This has actually never happened to me. ...Mostly because having a door of my own for people to knock on hasn’t been a frequent occurrence, but also I just haven’t seen a lot of JWs out and about in recent years.

Did you ever think any of your teachers were HOT? >> Sure.

Doesn't it suck when you have a wedgie in a public place? >> Sure.

If you farted in front of your significant other, would he/she care? >> No.

White Castle: nasty or absolutely yummy?! >> It hits the spot sometimes.

When you burp at the dinner table, are you expected to excuse yourself? >> LOL “the dinner table”.

Must you grab a souvenir from almost everywhere you go? >> Not unless I see one I really like. Souvenir shirts and trinkets in New Orleans are an absolute art form, so I’m always down for one of those, but most souvenir stuff I see places are pretty uninspired IMO.

Have you ever walked out on a movie at the theater? Which one? >> No, but I’ve definitely wanted to at least once.

Did you enjoy making things out of Play-Doh as a child? >> I don’t really recall making anything out of it. I recall opening the container just to smell it, lmao. I also recall thoughtlessly leaving it exposed to the open air and finding it bone-dry days later.