#reader is so self-indulgently me in this miniseries

[miedei]

terrible profilers

(aka the team meets early seasons!spence's not-so-secret girlfriend)

a/n: this came to me in my dream last night and i cannot get over it, pls send asks/requests and tell me what you thought!

cw: reader has she/her pronouns, the team is nosy, my niche personal headcanons of how i think spencer would text, probably more tech inaccuracies

wc: 3.5k

part one

(reblogs are the only way to promote fics on tumblr! please reblog if you enjoyed it :) )

mlist

The moment Spencer walks into the bullpen, he knows something’s up. Garcia never replied to the text he’d sent on Friday night, and he’d hoped she was just busy on their first weekend off in a while, but it’s clear there’s more. Clutching the strap of his satchel, he walks to his desk, observing the strange tension blanketing the room. For one, Hotch and Gideon are in the bullpen, standing in the corner speaking in hushed tones. Weird. They usually go to one of their offices to talk, and either way, they usually are stuck in their offices until lunchtime when they don’t have cases. Another thing. JJ and Penelope are standing around Elle’s desk, which isn’t out of the ordinary, but they’ve swivelled around to stare at Spencer like he’s an alien (which they do on occasion, but Spencer is pretty sure he hasn’t been strange yet. He just walked in!). Derek is sitting on Elle’s desk, leaning over to huddle with the three girls, but he’s frozen with his mouth open, like he just shut up for some reason.

“Uh… Good morning.” Spencer furrows his brows, but tries to shrug it off, more interested in the smell of coffee emanating from the kitchenette. Setting down his bag, he quickly busies himself with pouring his signature overly-sweet (according to you) coffee.

It’s like his movements snap a thread that has been holding his colleagues together, and they suddenly start bustling around the bullpen again. Derek sidles up beside him as he’s stirring in sugar, and Spencer braces himself for some Morgan-esque prod. But what he says has Spencer confused.

“Kid. You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Ok, something is going on. Spencer has worked with Derek since he was 22, and they’ve fallen into a very comfortable dynamic ever since. But neither of them have ever felt the need to reassure the other of their closeness.

“What’s up, Morgan? No jabs today?”

Derek stiffens, like he’s been caught in a lie, and scrambles to reply.

“Well… We- Um, Garcia worried about you on Friday. What was up with you leaving so suddenly?”

Spencer has to bite back a smile, memories of you, coming to ‘O Keefe’s just to see him, flooding into his mind. But he answers as smoothly as possible, still turned away from Derek as he elaborates.

“Oh, I felt a bit sick. I think it’s going back and forth from the more arid parts of the country that did it. Did you know, travelling between warmer and colder climates makes you more susceptible to contracting viruses because it strains your immune and musculoskeletal systems, causing the feedback loop of homeostasis to-” Derek puts a hand on his arm, and Spencer quiets.

“Okay, okay, pretty boy, I get it.”

With that, he walks off, and Spencer is left at the kitchenette, stirring his coffee, confused. It’s not like it was a lie, he was feeling a bit nauseous in the bar, so you insisted that you go home. He recovered that same night over a cup of tea, Metropolis on the television, and you cuddled up on the couch next to him.

When he walks back to his desk, mug in hand, he calls out to JJ, still standing by Elle’s desk.

“JJ, no cases today? …JJ?” The blonde is looking at him, but his words seem to fly right over her head, until Elle pokes her shoulder.

“Oh! No, the cases I’m being called about are still pending, we’re probably not leaving on anything until tomorrow.” Spencer smiles softly, glad to have at least one more night sleeping at home this week. Because of his reverie, he doesn’t notice the way JJ, Penelope and Elle are staring at him, befuddled expressions on their faces.

The day continues to be a little weird, much to Spencer’s chagrin. Around 1pm, Gideon emerges from his office again. This, already, is out of the blue. Gideon only leaves his office an average of 3.78 times a day, mainly to go to Hotch’s office, or to go home. This time, however, Gideon marches to Spencer’s desk.

Gideon comes to a stop next to Spencer’s desk chair, and it’s all he can do to muster a blank face and look into his mentor’s eyes.

“Hey, Gideon. What’s… What’s going on?”

The older man sighs wearily, looking down his nose at Spencer, looking uncannily like Spencer’s highschool Calculus teacher when she got irritated at him for being a ‘13 year old know-it-all’.

“Reid. You weren’t sick on Friday, were you?” What is happening? Spencer doesn’t lie, he’s never told Gideon something untrue, so this is incredibly out of the blue.

“Huh? No, what’s wrong? I felt nauseous, which could’ve been a symptom for an inner ear problem, inflammatory bowel disease, gastroenteritis…” Spencer continues to rattle off a list of things he could have had, not noticing the uncharacteristically soft, paternal gaze that Gideon has trained on him.

“...and even a brain tumour, but it was probably because I drank more than I usually do. Why do you think that’s not true?” Spencer finishes his little speech, looking up at Gideon with a confused expression. There’s nothing else the older man can do but sigh, patting his shoulder softly.

“Okay, Reid. Glad you’re feeling better now.” With that, the experienced profiler walks away, not bothering to reply to Spencer’s continued questioning:

“Gideon! What’s wrong? Why are you-” Gideon’s office door slams shut.

Unfortunately, Spencer cannot ignore the rest of the signs, spending the rest of the day in a state of coiled anxiety. Something is going on, but he can’t get anyone to tell him.

Derek and Elle are constantly glancing over at him, unreadable expressions on their faces. Penelope keeps finding excuses to go to Spencer’s desk, and even if Spencer wasn’t a profiler, he’d be able to see the words bubbling up in her throat, but she never says anything.

JJ doesn’t come talk to him at all, which is strange. Instead, she shoots him knowing looks whenever she’s in the bullpen, sending Spencer into a spiral every time she doesn’t say anything about why they’re all acting weird.

He’s even caught Hotch and Gideon peeking through the blinds over their office windows to look at Spencer, with the analytical looks they get when they’re observing a crime scene on their faces. It’s driving Spencer crazy, and he has to tell someone.

You’re leaving your desk at the university when your phone buzzes.

SPENCE <3: Hi. I looked normal when I left the house, right?

Your brow furrows at the text. Normally Spencer isn’t a fan of texting while he’s at work, and you’d told him multiple times how handsome he looked when he left the apartment this morning. He’s wearing his striped white button down and the purple tie you bought him for his birthday last year, he looks pretty. And you made sure to tell him so.

YOU: hi <3

YOU: no spence you look pretty i told you this morning didnt i?

SPENCE <3: You did, thank you. Everyone’s acting weird at work, and I can’t think of what it could be.

YOU: maybe its something with a case?

SPENCE <3: They would tell me if it was that, right?

YOU: ur right

YOU: if you cant think of it with that big beautiful brain its probably something to do with them

There’s a solid minute of silence before he texts you back, and you grin to yourself as you walk through the halls. You can see the flush growing over his face in your mind’s eye, the way he does every time you pay him a cheesy compliment.

SPENCE <3: I guess so. They won’t tell me anything about it, which is strange.

You frown a little, imagining his frustration at being out of the loop. Spencer has expressed his love for his coworkers to you many times, but he’s also told you about his struggles feeling like the ‘baby’ of the office, and the way it makes him feel isolated at times. Racking your brain to think of a way to cheer him up, you check the time on your watch (the twin of which is settled on Spencer’s wrist).

YOU: its nearly 6

YOU: if i leave my building now i can make it to your office in 30mins

YOU: i can pick you up and we could get thai for dinner

YOU: ?

The reply is instantaneous, and you smile, looking forward to seeing him earlier than you’d expected today.

SPENCE <3: That sounds great. I’m finishing up here but text me when you’re in the lobby and I’ll come down.

SPENCE <3: I need to go, I’ve been texting you from the bathroom.

SPENCE <3: See you soon :-)

The last half hour of Spencer’s workday flies by, unlike the way the clock had crawled previously. He finishes up the consults he was working on for the day, and begins packing up the moment the clock hits 18:27.

Derek and Elle are still sneaking glances at him, but Spencer couldn’t care less at this point. As he closes the flap of his satchel, his phone buzzes in his breast pocket. He can’t help but whip out his phone immediately, missing the bewildered looks that pass between his fellow profilers as he smiles down at the screen.

Y/N L/N: in the lobby now! i forgot how fancy it is here i feel underdressed

He doesn’t bother replying, instead opting to leave the bullpen through the glass doors, nodding at Derek and Elle, and pressing the elevator button immediately. He’s so engrossed in his thoughts as he stares at the closed doors, that he realises far too late what’s happening behind him.

He can hear the sounds of shuffling feet, a squeak of surprise (Penelope), hissed insult (Elle to Derek), and a firm clearing of a throat. Hotch. After sighing petulantly, Spencer turns on his heels to find the entire BAU team standing there, faces just as confusing as they’ve been all day.

“I’d ask you what’s wrong, but none of you gave me an answer the last 23 times I asked, so.”

There’s a beat of silence, before Hotch, of all people, says, “Reid, we need to… ask you something. About last Friday.” That’s strange. Spencer cocks his head in confusion.

“What about it? I already told Morgan and Gideon, I was feeling sick, but it turns out it was just that I’d just drank more than I was used to.”

Penelope looks like she’s about to burst, and finally, she blurts it out, voice slightly shrill. “Reid! Who is she?”

“Who is who?”

Derek butts in, a hand on Penelope’s shoulder. “Kid, that girl. The girl you were… close to, on Friday. At the bar?” Oh. That’s what they’re talking about?

“That was Y/N. My girlfriend. Are you mad I didn’t introduce you guys? I thought you were all busy.”

Spencer sees six sets of jaws drop. There’s more silence, before JJ croaks out, “Girlfriend?”

It’s a bit of a sight, to be honest. Penelope has clutched on to Derek, and Derek on to Elle. JJ is gobsmacked, eyes bulging out of their sockets. Even Hotch and Gideon look the most shocked Spencer has ever seen them. But why?

“Uh, yeah. She came to see me because we’d had plans before we decided to go out. Then when she found out I felt sick we went home.”

Gideon looks a little green, and when no one makes a sound, Hotch speaks, his normally stoic voice coming out a little shaky. “Reid, we didn't- We didn’t know you were seeing anybody.”

What? Now they’re being even weirder. Spencer can hear the elevator doors open behind him, but he doesn’t bother. This is something he has to get to the bottom of.

“How did you not know? I’m sure I’ve mentioned having plans with her multiple times. Elle, I told you about the time I went to the movies in New York with her, when we were on that case.” Elle looks more shocked, if that’s possible, but doesn’t say a word.

“Garcia, I asked you to help me find florists that have Gibraltar campions in Vegas that one time.” Penelope jolts, muttering under her breath about ‘idiot geniuses and their mothers’.

“Gideon, I asked you for advice on how to ask her out!” Gideon stiffens, remembering the time Spencer had asked him about his ex-wife. Was that Spencer asking for advice?

“I ran into you, JJ and Morgan, when I was with her, don’t you remember? She was in the aisle over” Derek distinctly remembers a time at the bookstore, they’d seen Spencer, but not noticed anyone with him. JJ shamefully recalls being too busy making fun of Spencer’s heart-studded tie to look around.

“Hotch, I told you about her! When I added her to my emergency contacts?” At this, Hotch pales. A year ago, Spencer had come to him with a request to change his 1st emergency contact from his mother to a Y/N L/N. How he never registered that this was a girlfriend, Hotch would never know, but he stares fixedly at his shoes as he contemplates quitting his job as a profiler.

Spencer looks at them, mystified. How did they not know? It’s not like he was ever hiding you! Of course, Spencer wanted to keep you to himself, so he didn’t talk about you that much, but they were profilers. He assumed they’d known, and just didn't want to embarrass him.

His phone buzzes twice, and he pulls it out to see another text from you.

Y/N L/N: spence are you coming

Y/N L/N: a guy in a suit is eyeing me weird he knows i dont belong come save me

A happy sigh leaves him, before he remembers the people standing in front of him, still gobsmacked. He scrubs a hand down his face wearily, and mutters slowly, as if he’s not sure if he wants to do this.

“She’s downstairs right now, we were going to take the metro home together. Do you… Do you guys want to meet her?” Penelope brightens up, and the rest of the team seem in higher spirits, despite their continued disappointment in themselves. Warily, Spencer opens the elevator door with a press of a button, and they all file in obediently.

“Please don’t be weird.”

“My good doctor, I would never!” He eyes Garcia with a fearful expression, but presses the ground floor button anyway. As the doors close, a strangled shout leaves JJ’s mouth.

“Wait, you live together?”

You are sitting on a bench inside the FBI Headquarters. No matter how many times you drop Spencer off or pick him up, this will always be surreal to you. And, right now, it’s not just surreal, it’s a little scary.

A real Danny Ocean type guy is sitting on a bench across the room, talking on the phone and eyeing you. Clearly, you don’t exactly look like an agent, you know that. Dressed in the uniform of a PhD student, jeans and an oversized Doctor Who t-shirt (Spencer’s), you know that you look out of place.

You’re just hoping Spencer walks out of the elevator before you get escorted out on suspicions that you’re a spy or something.

Like some deity has heard your words, you look up at the ding of the elevator to see Spencer… and a whole gaggle of people behind him, slapping at his shoulders and barraging him with questions. He looks harried, a line between his pretty eyes.

The line disappears, though, when he locks eyes with you. His eyes light up, and his steps grow in length, before he's left his entourage behind, at least for a couple of seconds.

He uses this time to explain to you: “Hi hello I'm so glad you're here and I need to tell you something-” As if on instinct, your hands come up to rest on his upper arms, thumbs moving in circles soothingly as he continues to ramble.

“-and well, they didn't know about you somehow? Which is crazy to me because you know I don't hide you so I don't know where they got that from but either way they were acting crazy, so I suggested they come meet you, and…” The group of people you now recognize to be the BAU have caught up to him, eyes darting between your face and Spencer's. His shoulders slump, and the agitated look returns, if a little less intense.

“Well, here they are.” He motions to the group behind him. “These are my coworkers, Jennifer Jareau, Elle Greenaway, Penelope Garcia, Aaron Hotchner, Jason Gideon, and Derek Morgan. Guys, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.”

Rising on your toes to see over his shoulder, you wave with a smile, eyes zeroing in on Penelope Garcia, who looks like she's vibrating from excitement, shouldering past Spencer to hold both of your hands.

“Hi! It's so good to meet you! I'd say I've heard a lot about you, but you know that's a lie, we didn't realize you existed until 10 minutes ago, but oh my god! You're here! You're so pretty- Spencer, she's so pretty!” She's practically bouncing up and down, causing Spencer to laugh sheepishly.

“Yeah, Garcia, I know that.” The next few minutes are a barrage of introductions and handshakes, all so brief that you can only get quick first impressions of them all.

Penelope is incredibly kind, not letting go of your hands until Spencer pries her off of you, telling you that you have to come out on girl's night with us, exactly like Spencer described her.

Elle is nearly intimidatingly cool, giving you a handshake and a smile, mentioning that she likes your eyeliner.

Aaron (Hotch? You're not sure how to refer to him) is nowhere near as stoic and intimidating as Spencer makes him out to be, breaking into a smile as he introduces himself, and grinning even wider when you congratulate him and his wife on their newborn child.

JJ is the sweetest. You've heard a lot about Spencer's best friend, and she lives up to expectations, squeezing you into a chaste hug with warm words.

Gideon is a little terrifying. He gives you a handshake, quirking the side of his lips in what you assume to be a smile, but saying very little beyond an introduction. You know how highly Spencer thinks of him, and hope he will warm up to you (Spencer is over the moon that he smiled, and tells you Gideon loved you later that night).

Derek is exactly how you expected him to be. Somehow, he makes you feel wholly comfortable after a single comment, and promises to regale you with all the Spencer stories you'd want (you see him punch Spencer in the arm, grinning and saying he approved).

Spencer pulls you away from them as quick as he can, citing your dinner plans as an excuse. He slings an arm around your waist, leading you out the door as you wave over your shoulder.

“It was great to meet you guys! We should go out to dinner or something!” You hear mixed shouts of agreement from behind you, before the doors shut and it's just you and Spencer, on the sidewalk outside the building.

It's butterfly-inducing, the way you can see the tension leave his shoulders when he turns to look down at you, brown eyes shining.

“I'm sorry that was so last-minute, I know they can be… a lot.” You giggle at the weariness in his tone, resting your forearms on his shoulders.

“They were really nice, Spence. I'm glad to finally meet them. They didn't know who I was?” He sighs, hands tightening slightly on your waist.

“I don't know what goes on with them half the time. I've told them things about you so many times, but they were just being dense, I suppose. They saw us on Friday, at ‘O Keefe’s, and they had no idea I was seeing someone!” He bends to rest his forehead in the crook of your neck with a sigh. As if on instinct, your hands come up to play with his hair.

“I guess they would have found it a little strange that you acted like nothing had changed, huh? Is that why they were being weird today?” He grumbles unintelligible words into your skin, before raising his head to look at you.

“I guess… You know I wasn't hiding you, right? I really thought they knew about you,” The earnestness on his face makes you want to implode, his thumbs rubbing minutely on your waist. Speaking would pop the bubble you've found yourselves in, so you find the best next option for you to show him your assertion.

Your hands roam up his neck to cup either side of his jaw, and slow, slow, slowly, you rise to your toes and kiss him.

Suddenly, Spencer's not worried anymore.

[scoonsalicious]

A Scoonsalicious Masterlist

All fics are 18+ Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here. I exclusively write for Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader at this point in time, for maladaptive self-indulgent purposes.

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

Individual fics will contain individual warnings.

Bucky Barnes

(Fluff 💖) (Smut ❤️‍🔥) (Angst 💔) (Horror 🖤) (Violence ❤️‍🩹) (AU 💞) (1k+ Notes 🏆)

Series

⚜️ The Pocket MCU: ❤️‍🩹 A series of miniseries and one-shot prequels featuring the MC from Unwanted, integrated into the existing narratives of the MCU films. ONGOING (Updated 5/20/24)

⚜️ Unwanted: ❤️‍🔥💔🏆When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn't be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust. COMPLETED 155.4k words (Epilogue Posted 04/27/24)

⚜️ Post-Unwanted: ❤️‍🔥💔💖 A series of miniseries and one-shot sequels set between Unwanted and Unbroken. ONGOING (Updated 11/18/24)

⚜️ Unbroken: An Unwanted Sequel: ❤️‍🔥💔💖‼️ It's a secret, but doesn't that title sound ridiculous?! BRAINSTORMING

One Shots

⚜️ Like a Fairy Tale: 💔💖🏆 Dating Bucky Barnes had been like living a fairy tale, but as he distances himself from you and your relationship, you come to the realization that maybe fairy tales aren't meant to come true. 3.4k words (Posted 3/4/24)

⚜️ Your Choice: ❤️‍🔥💖💞You're minding your own business at home one evening when local police Sergeant James "Bucky" Barnes comes knocking on your door. Someone's reported a crime being committed on your property, and the sergeant can either bring you down to the station, or get you off with a warning... it's your choice. 4.3k words (Posted 3/5/24)

Series On Hiatus

⚜️ With Friends Like These...: ❤️‍🔥💔Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntyre never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You. ON HIATUS (Updated 6/17/24)

Upcoming

⚜️ Hunted ❤️‍🔥🖤❤️‍🩹 A plane crash leaves you stranded in the Canadian wilderness with the one person who can't seem to stand you: Your mission partner, Bucky Barnes. You'll have to work together and put your differences aside in order to survive and get rescued. Only, the two of you aren't alone; someone, or something, is watching you from the woods. WRITING

⚜️ Boys of Summer ❤️‍🔥💔💞 Every summer, the wealthy Barnes family escapes the heat of the city to their beach house on the New England coast, and every year for as long as you can remember, your father has been the caretaker of their property. Now your father's gone and you haven't seen Bucky Barnes since you two spent a summer night together when you were eighteen. Four years later, Bucky's returned with a slew of college friends in tow for the ultimate beach summer to celebrate his college graduation, and his recent engagement. PLANNING

[auraxins]

sprint-fic miniseries 01

prompt: nerve 

tags: kisuke urahara x gn!reader, undetermined relationship, getting together, self-indulgent, fluff, first kiss but not quite, romantic tension

wc: 1.3k

this was written with absolutely no pre-emptive thought in about 45 mins total (inc. brief editing post-sprint) and naturally i just had to pick a character i'd never written before to make life even harder on myself LMFAO but i like posting even the stuff i write for practice like this so ur welcome !

Standing here is overwhelming. 

The canopy of Urahara Shōten looms above you and dims what little light the streetlamps provide. The air is cold against your exposed skin. In the distance, stray nightlife calls. Your breath runs short as the anticipation builds to the point where it almost becomes unbearable.

Perhaps you shouldn’t have come. 

But then, the door is being pulled open and a painfully familiar face is greeting you. Kisuke has clearly been dragged from the depths of sleep by your earlier knocking, if the dishevelled hair and barely-thrown-on samue are anything to go by. There’s a moment of silence as he blinks the last of his rest from his eyes and surveys you up and down. 

“What are you doing here?” he asks blearily, voice hoarse from unuse. 

“I’m sorry to wake you,” you say. Your heart feels like it could escape out through your throat with every word. You can’t bring yourself to answer his question seriously, that you’re there because you needed to see him. 

The tired confusion in his eyes gives way to tentative concern as he steps to the side to let you in. “Are you hurt?” 

“I’m fine,” you assure hurriedly. 

“Clearly not,” he rebukes, “if you’ve come knocking so aggressively in the middle of the night like this.” 

You sigh. He’s right, you’re the one that’s called for his attention. The least you owe him is an explanation as to why. 

And yet, the words simply don’t want to leave you. 

In fact they physically hurt as you attempt to flush them from your system, managing no more than a handful of stutters and poorly formed syllables. 

Kisuke sighs and steps toward you, almost cautious in the way he takes one of your hands into his. 

“You don’t have to tell me everything, but I need to know if you’re in danger right now- especially if it’s anything that could follow you out here.” 

You almost short-circuit at the warmth that envelops your fingers, and the sincerity in the look that he gives you. This might just be the first time you’ve seen him as serious as this. 

“It isn’t anything like that, I promise.” 

“You’re absolutely sure?” 

A nod in affirmation is enough for him to finally release your hand and give you space. 

“If you need it, the guest room is yours. Tessai and the kids are out of town for the week, so you’ll be stuck with me. I hope that isn’t too inconvenient for you.” 

Ah, there’s the teasing lilt to his voice that you know so well. It’s almost scary that he can slip back into that carefree tone so easily. 

“I’m sure I can tolerate that,” you agree. A smile finds its way to your mouth, and somehow you think your pulse has managed to rise even further than before. 

There’s no way you can tell him what you wanted now, not when you have no escape route to fall back on. You wonder if he’s able to tell, with the way that he quietly guides you to the guest room and then leaves you there. 

It’s warmer than outside, and yet you’re shaking. 

A futon has been spread out in the guest room already, probably left that way by whoever had last stayed the night. You know Kisuke tends to harbor all manner of acquaintances when they need it. If you’re being totally honest with yourself, you’re surprised to be the only one there tonight. 

As if everything had worked out this way for a reason. 

You sit yourself down, cross-legged, and take off the little bag you’d brought along. Inside are a few general overnight supplies- deodorant, spare socks, and the like- as well as the small box that has weighed you down like a bull on your shoulders for the last week. 

Opening it feels wrong, like you’re poking into something you shouldn’t be. But the name engraved in the top is yours and unless there’s somebody else roaming around Karakura Town with connections to Soul Society, it’s pretty obvious that you have every right to peek at what’s inside. 

Your fingers fumble with the latch, but soon enough it clicks open and the lid falls back smoothly. 

The bracelet glistens under the warm yellow bulb overhead, tiny gemstones catching the light in just the right way. You pick it up from the spongy padding and turn it over in your hands, running your thumb over the engraving on the inner surface. A simple date, one you’ll not soon forget, and one that leaves a fond warmth blossoming through your chest. 

“So, you did get it after all. I thought someone might have stolen it from your doorstep.” 

Kisuke stands in the doorway, resting casually against the frame. 

“It was Yoruichi’s idea, by the way. She insisted this had to be a dramatic affair.” 

That does sound like her. The mental image of Yoruichi bossing Kisuke around while in her feline form makes you giggle. Though you know Kisuke well enough to be assured that he was more than eager to go through with it.

“So, what does this mean?” you ask. 

“I thought it was obvious,” Kisuke pouts. 

You rise to your feet, gently placing the empty box on the floor. A wave of confidence hits, comfort in familiar banter. “I think I’m going to have to ask you to spell it out for me. You see, I have a terrible memory and just can’t seem to recall what these little numbers mean.” 

“If you can’t even remember, perhaps you don’t deserve to keep it.” 

Kisuke plucks the bracelet from your hands in one swift motion and you feign a gasp, diving to steal it back. He takes one of your wrists and stops you mid-action, bringing it down in front of your chest. 

“You’re a fiend,” you protest, taking advantage of your spare arm to send a harmless punch to his shoulder. 

“Now then, that’s not very nice. A fiend wouldn’t open his door to someone in need at midnight and so graciously let them stay, now would he?” 

He brings the bracelet to your trapped arm and wraps it around, fastening it just tight enough to not slip past your hand. 

“You would,” you tease. It’s easier to rebuke him than to focus on how it feels for his fingertips to idly trace along the veins on your wrist. On how every featherlight sensation raises another hair on the back of your neck. “You’ve always been a menace.” 

Kisuke hums as he releases your hand, and for a moment you’re tempted to grab his in return. You won’t let him win that easily, of course, but the thought lingers nonetheless. 

“You think about those ‘little numbers’ for a while longer, okay?” 

The next few seconds happen in such a blur that you have to wonder if you’ve hallucinated them. 

He grabs your chin and tilts it towards himself, placing a kiss just shy of your mouth, and lets you go again. Before you’ve had the chance to blink away the surprise, he’s already out the door and down the hallway. 

“If you do remember,” he continues, calling out to you as he slinks behind the shoji that separates his own room and slides it shut, “you know where to find me, okay?” 

For a moment, you stand boneless in your doorway. Then your senses return, and then your feet are carrying you across the building faster than you’d thought you were ever capable of. With every step, the small engraved numbers that read the date of your first meeting with Kisuke Urahara press against the pulse of your wrist. 

You’re not entirely sure what you’re going to do when you push the door open. It’s a toss-up between hitting him for teasing you so badly and kissing him senseless, really. 

Perhaps both, just for the fun of it. 

[arcielee]

Interview With a Writer

Thank you again @inthedayswhenlandswerefew for continue the Maggie's Suffering Sundays tradition with a behind-the-scenes on her latest story! As always, here is masterlist to my Interview With a Writer series and the other talented individuals who allow me to continue this self-indulgent series! 💜

Name: inthedayswhenlandswerefew

Story: Napoleonville

Paring: modern Aemond Targaryen x female!reader

Warnings: 18+ mature themes. Be mindful of chapter warnings.

What inspired the plotline for Napoleonville?

I’ve always thought that bayou country (and the Deep South in general) has a fascinating, slightly unnerving, ancient sort of beauty, and I had a vague idea that I’d use it as a setting for a fic one day. I actually wrote a short story in college that took place in rural Louisiana (it involved fraternities and murder, sounds like me, right? 😂) and really loved the experience of mentally living in that setting for a while.

One day I was thinking about this preoccupation I have with Louisiana while listening to You’re Wrong About, a podcast I really love. They have a 5-episode miniseries about Princess Diana that is super informative and also hilarious, and I go back and re-listen to those episodes a few times a year because I enjoy them so much. So the plot of Napoleonville was a marriage (pun intended) of these two seemingly random, disconnected inspirations!

I think I imagined the story as taking place in the 80s primarily because of the Princess Diana connection, but also I’m super obsessed with 80s music and fashion, so I’m sure that was a contributing factor. 😁

My Pinterest board for this series was called "Swamplands" and featured a LOT of retro 80s photos, as well as plenty of alligators and baking recipes, of course!

I sadly did not yet exist in the 80s, so extensive research was necessary.

Explain your interpretation of Aemond. What drives him? Why is he the way he is in Napoleonville?

To me, Aemond seems a lot like Prince Charles in the 80s. He’s very image-conscious and dutiful, but also deeply insecure and unhappy, and he has a secret scandalous life that serves as his escape from the emotionally devoid reality that has been chosen for him.

Aemond is at peace when he gets to feel like he’s in control, but he’s also just fundamentally starved for genuine affection, and those are things that he needs—even in secret, and even in small doses—in order to survive the stifling, relentless demands of being the heir to the Jade Dragon Energy dynasty.

Did you already have an idea of how you wanted the Targaryen family dynamic to be in Napoleonville?

In most of my fics, Viserys is either dying/dead or super distant, so I liked being able to get a sense of how the family would function if Viserys was alive and well and at least somewhat present.

He’s this dark cloud of a patriarch whenever he jets into town from his latest business trip, reminding every member of the family how they’ve disappointed him: Alicent is an unlovable wife, Aegon an embarrassment of a son, Aemond an overlooked middle child always trying to prove himself (at the risk of both his mental and physical health), and then Helaena and Daeron are barely even on his radar.

When Viserys is away, the family seems a bit happier, lazing around the pool and distracting themselves with a variety of hobbies and substances. I think the fact that Aemond picked up smoking Marlboros from Alicent—and then she shared them with Christabel as well—is very indicative about how a dynamic like this is generational. Parents suffer, and then their children develop maladaptive behaviors to survive in that environment, and then they grow up to recreate it because that’s all they know.

With Viserys still around, Otto became a different character, and this version of Otto Hightower was really fun to write. I imagined him as someone who was once a determined social striver and now—burned-out and somewhat aware that all his ambitions led to nothing but misery—has become a bit of a nihilist and is content to spend what remains of his life on a beach in the South Pacific.

Can you give us the "dad dynamic" comparison of Aemond and Willis?

Aemond, while emotionally kind of clueless, is definitely aware that he had a bad childhood and doesn't want any other kids to have to feel that way.

Also Aemond, unlike Willis, is socially open-minded. He has this fascination with scrappy underdogs who manage to take bad circumstances and make something meaningful out of them, undoubtedly because that’s deep down how he’s always felt: like someone harmed and overlooked, yet a constant striver.

When Aemond first meets Cupcake, there is a level of chemistry and attraction that he didn’t expect (although he certainly has always hoped for it), and he realizes almost immediately that this will be more than a one-time hookup and treats Cupcake accordingly. Then as he begins to learn more about her, his admiration and affection grows.

Cupcake is unassuming and yet nontraditional and defiant in the face of adversity, exactly the sort of person that Aemond respects most. He feels that—like himself, although in very different ways—Cupcake was also robbed of the agency she deserved and wronged by people who should have had her best interests at heart. Viserys was responsible for Aemond’s lost eye; Willis—in Aemond’s mind—was responsible for Cupcake’s loss of control over her body, and the loss of her educational opportunities as well. Aemond doesn’t hate Willis because he used to be married to Cupcake. He hates Willis because he consigned Cupcake to a life that was less than she deserved.

Aemond gets along so well with Cadi because, simply put, he treats her like a human. He is intrigued by her obstinate personality and pays attention to her interests, even if she’s just a kid; Aemond remembers being chronically ignored as a child, and he sees children as being fully sentient in a way that a lot of 80s parents didn’t. Since he isn’t much of a traditionalist, Aemond doesn’t care if Cadi has short hair or dresses primarily in Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles t-shirts. Similarly, Aemond is not fazed that Amir is gay, and I’m sure the fact that Aemond is European has a lot to do with that. Aemond is definitely not a rural Louisianan at heart!

Willis, by the standards of the time and place, is actually a relatively decent dad; he cares about spending time with Cadi and has negotiated a schedule where he has custody three days a week, which is (sadly) way more time than a lot of dads spend with their kids! We learn in Chapter 10 that a huge source of anxiety for him has been his fear of Cupcake meeting someone who will take her and Cadi far away from Napoleonville, and thus from Willis. He also invests in certain activities that he and Cadi enjoy doing together, like boating/fishing. Willis may have a very traditional, conservative view of gender roles—and life in general—and he doesn’t always take Cadi’s interests seriously, but he isn’t an awful guy.

Although his mullet is definitely awful.

What was your favorite moment of this series?

The first vivid scene I envisioned for Napoleonville was Aemond asking Cupcake to marry him under a massive southern live oak after abandoning his wedding to Christabel—the Princess Diana of this story—but I’m not sure if I can call that my favorite moment. I was really excited to write Chapter 6 because of Aemond jumping into the alligator-filled water to rescue Cupcake, but as much as I loved it I don’t think that’s my favorite scene either.

My favorite scenes tend to be small, quiet moments, probably things that don’t stand out to anyone else. I think my absolute favorite scene of Napoleonville is in Chapter 7 when Cupcake is in bed with a migraine—sad, stressed, missing Aemond but also furious with him, reflecting on never feeling chosen, fearful of Cadi one day leaving her—and Aemond shows up and is just super gentle and kind and apologetic for the way he was the last time they saw each other.

They’re two people who are both in a lot of pain, both physically and emotionally, and they desperately want to help each other even if they aren’t sure how.

Speaking of Chapter 6, do you have an idea how it went between Aemond, Aegon, and Willis on the boat once they realized Cupcake was overboard?

Oh yeah! It all unfolded within a few seconds, so it was super quick. How I saw it happening is that Cupcake goes overboard, and all three men hear the splash and then turn around to see she’s gone.

Aegon is thinking “RIP cake lady,” because he certainly has no idea what to do about it and would sooner chew off his own arm than jump in that water. Willis scrambles to grab ropes, etc. to at least try to help her back into the boat. And then Willis starts giving Aemond orders and as he’s shouting, Aemond just dives into the bayou and Willis and Aegon are left staring at each other like “???” 😂

Aegon was so much fun in this story. I loved the relationship between him and Aemond.

I think we all know by now that I'm an Aegon girlie, and so of course Napoleonville Aegon had to have an opportunity to shine!

This is the first series since my HOTD debut (Have You No Idea That You’re In Deep?) that Aegon and the protagonist have no romantic relationship, but they still develop a friendship and fondness for each other that I think is really healing for Aegon. He has resigned himself to being the failure of the family, and is an afterthought in the Targaryen household (and to his wife, Princess Stephanie of Monaco).

Even Aemond, who Aegon loves and admires (even if Aegon is not very good at expressing this), is oftentimes preoccupied and emotionally closed-off. But Cupcake remembers Aegon and tries to make him feel included when she starts showing up at the mansion. She can't resist a sad, maligned outcast!

Were there any other characters in your story that you enjoyed writing?

Of course I loved writing Amir, Willis, and Cadi, but I think the character I grew the most unexpectedly attached to was Christabel.

She's so young and idealistic, and although she is Cupcake's rival of sorts, she is pretty impossible to hate because she never does anything wrong. Christabel is an Aemond fangirl who expresses emotions openly, even when no one around her does. She wants a real relationship with him and does everything in her power to please her fiancé and make him proud of her. And Christabel is aware on some level that things aren't right, but everyone else in her life is trying to gaslight her into thinking that all courtships and marriages are like this.

All these details are true for the real Princess Diana as well. Even years into her marriage when things were clearly dire, Diana would still choose outfits based on what Charles might think she looked good in. She spent so long trying to earn her husband's love, but it was an impossible (and agonizing) mission. Fortunately for Christabel, she didn't have to endure 15 years of torment before breaking free.

Do you feel Reader and Aemond complement one another well?

Absolutely! On a superficial (and kinky) level, Aemond likes being in control and Cupcake likes being able to rely on someone else to make trustworthy decisions, so in that sense they're a perfect match. But they also just genuinely get along well and are able to understand each other.

From the very first meeting, Aemond can tell when Cupcake is nervous, and she can tell that he's wearing his authoritative confidence like armor, and they both adjust to try to make the other feel at ease. Furthermore, Cupcake might be a high school dropout, but she is not dumb. She lacks academic training (and is often self-conscious about not knowing certain words or references), but she's a naturally clever person who can keep up with Aemond intellectually and pick out inconsistencies in his logic (as there are MANY!).

Finally, the life Cupcake has built for herself in Napoleonville is simple but has true warmth and love, something that Aemond needs.

Was there anything in specific that inspired your Reader portrayal?

So I very rarely write a Reader with a specific inspiration in mind, but I do have one for Cupcake. You'll probably think I'm insane at first, but Cupcake is inspired by my grandma.

My grandma was born in rural Western Maryland in 1945, and her family was so poor they didn't even have indoor plumbing. She was considered very beautiful and very clever and she had all these dreams about what she wanted to do with her life. Then when she was sixteen, she got pregnant and had to drop out of high school and marry my grandfather, because that's what people did back then. She wasn't given any other options.

They ended up moving to an urban area and my grandma became a real estate agent, and by any outsider's perspective she had a normal, happy, all-American existence. But my grandma also endured decades of domestic violence, substance abuse, and profound dissatisfaction with her life. This environment was not good for the children, both of whom (my aunt and dad) developed severe mental illnesses that they still struggle with to this day. My grandma was a very tenacious, passionate person and open with me about how she felt she'd never been treated right by a man, and I was a little too young then to fully understand what she meant. She passed away in 2018 after a long battle with cancer, and I think about her a lot, and I wanted Cupcake to be someone who broke free and got the fairytale ending that my grandma (and so many other women) never had.

What is next for Maggie's Suffering Sundays?

I am delighted to say that there is a new series on the way soon!

I'm not sure EXACTLY when it will be ready, because I want the rollout to be a little different this time (you'll see what I mean... 👀), but I've already begun writing. I believe there will be 12 chapters total, and 12 is a significant number! In terms of vibes, I think this new series is most similar to Now I’m Covered In You.

I hope you love it. 🥰

[inkblot22]

It Leeches Under The Skin

So I promise I am not obsessed with anything, but I definitely am going to be a bit more self-indulgent with this miniseries. Also I spent several hours staring at pictures of abandoned pools so that was kind of cool.

I'm going to try something new and put the target audience here. This part is aimed at gender neutral readers (they/them pronouns wooo,) and can be read as afab or amab, as there is no smut whatsoever in this section. I'll see if I can keep the body ambiguous enough for later parts, but it may come at a cost to writing quality as my skills are lacking.

TW for mentions of gambling, contracts with Azul (selling your soul to the devil), human hunting, if you squint, blood, biting, verbal abuse, reader is bad at swimming, Floyd and Jade because they freak me out and I know I'm not the only one. If you squint, there may be some primal play, but like I said there is no smut.

It was a little odd. Entirely predictable, but also a little odd. Their best friend and roommate seldom thought his plots and plans through all the way, and of course they bore the brunt of the collateral.

Well. It’s well-deserved, they supposed. Expect trouble and you’ll get it, after all. They only wished it wouldn’t cost this much.

“Prefect? Are you listening?” Azul’s kind voice broke through their thoughts, but it was so easy to lapse back into the comfort of their mind.

What did he do this time? Oh, yes. Grim just gambled away all their savings and won nothing in return. The Lounge already had the seedy vibes of a speakeasy, why wouldn’t they also have a gambling table? Regardless, he’d racked up enough debt and was unable to pay it back, so the Leech twins had paid them a visit, perhaps hoping that they’d have some stash of money somewhere to pay.

They would, had it not been what Grim used to gamble. They sighed and stared at the cup of tea in front of them.

“Prefect, I thought you enjoyed tea. If you don’t like that blend, we can get you another one.” Azul said, “You seem lost in your thoughts. I hope all is well?”

“Not really. I’m about to sell my soul to the devil.”

“I’m hardly the devil. Besides, the main stipulation of this contract is simply that you let Floyd take you swimming tomorrow night.”

They didn’t trust that at all. They snatched the contract from Azul, and sure enough, in big, bold letters, they read the requirement of going swimming. 

“There’s a problem.” They said, scanning over the rest of the contract and not finding anything particularly bad within, “Two problems.”

“What would those be?”

“Well, I want you to guarantee Grim’s safety,” They passed the contract back to Azul. “Also I can’t swim.”

“That’s not a problem, prefect.” Azul spread his hands in a relaxed, placating gesture, “I have potions and other implements to help with that. It’s a non-issue.”

“Alright, then. And what’s the thing about hanging out with Floyd later on as well?”

“It’s only a clause, don’t worry. If he gets bored, then it won’t matter.”

They had to narrow their eyes at that one, kind of unsure about this. Still, the chances of him growing bored was about a 50% chance,

“Okay… Fix that part about Grim and I’ll sign it.”

Azul’s writing was quick but not one bit less neat. They signed the contract and Jade placed it in the safe, then poked his head out of the Lounge’s office.

Floyd strolled in, holding Grim. His face broke into a big grin when he saw them sitting there.

“Hey, Shrimpy!” He unceremoniously dropped Grim and got in their face, smiling even wider, “Why are you gettin’ so sweaty? I can smell you all the way from over here!”

“You’re…” They turned their head away, grimacing, “You’re really close, actually.”

“Hee hee… I know.”

“Are we gonna pretend that he didn’t just drop me or what?” Grim bristled and walked over, climbing onto the couch and taking a seat, “You guys are so rude!”

“Sorry, Grimmy-wimmy-two-toes.” They cooed at him, squishing his cheeks and giggling as he swatted them away, “Did you break anything other than your pride?”

Floyd stood, picking up the prefect's untouched tea and sniffing it, “Ugh.”

“Well, since this meeting is over, I trust you’ll be in the natatorium at eight tomorrow?”

“Eight? Is it going to go past curfew?” The prefect asked.

“Yes. I am sure this is also not an issue.” Azul’s eyes glanced at Grim and they swallowed, narrowing their eyes and frowning.

“Yeah… no problem.”

~*~

After classes, Jade dropped off what appeared to be an overnight bag, including a terrible swimsuit. It sort of looked like a chitinous layer, a silvery brownish color with panels sewn together like the plates of a crustacean. Not a very funny joke, honestly. There was no clause in the contract that they could remember that required them to wear this, but they also couldn’t remember, so they put it on anyways and rifled through the rest of the bag. There were painkillers, a pair of water wings, a few potions that they would not be imbibing, a new toothbrush and tube of toothpaste, travel soap that smelled like Floyd's cologne (yuck), and a few pairs of underwear. How he had gotten their sizes correct was something they chose not to ponder for long.

The walk to the natatorium was sort of slow. Maybe it was just their reluctance to go through on this, the concern of what the night would hold fresh in the forefront of their mind. 

It wasn’t that they disliked Floyd by any means. They honestly thought he was okay, and other than the incidents before Azul overblotted, they hadn’t really had to consider him a threat of any kind. There was that primal part of their brain, long suppressed through years and years of being the apex species in their world, that sometimes whispered that they needed to get away from him when he looked at them a certain way, or made a certain noise or movement… Little things that unsettled them but were easily ignored. 

The natatorium was unlocked. They stopped in the locker room and took off their overclothes, leaving them in the swimsuit and the pair of cheap flip-flops they’d gotten off of Ace. The flip-flops were too big on them, but he assured them that he could just get a new pair whenever. It was nice of him.

The pool room was silent and dark. The water was uncovered and completely still, but they couldn’t see Floyd anywhere. They took a seat on the edge of the pool, dipping their legs in the water and blowing up the water wings. They kicked their legs and waited.

Something shot out of the water, grabbing them by the shoulders and pulling them down in the water. They didn’t even have time to scream before their head went under and whatever it was released them.

The water wings ensured that they popped back up on the surface, gasping for air and shaking. They struggled to paddle to the edge of the pool but something grabbed their ankle and pulled them back underwater.

Clawing at the air uselessly, the prefect went back under, no sound other than a cut off scream escaping them this time. When they popped back up, head and arms above water, they heard snakey-sounding laughter. Their head whipped around, panicked, before they saw him.

Floyd was leaning against the pool wall, grinning in his true form with his head slightly tilted. All they could see of him was his silhouette, highlighted by the moonlight shining through the large windows of the natatorium, and his glowing eyes, one gold and one silver. He kept laughing as they slowly paddled to the other side of the pool and hugged the wall, turning to shoot him a glare.

“You’re really bad at tag, Shrimpy.” He said before they could say anything.

“Tag?”

“Yup. We were playing tag. It’s boring to be 'it' all the time, you know.”

“Floyd, I can barely even see you. How-”

“If we turn on the lights, we’ll get caught. It’s more fun this way, too.”

“But I can’t be 'it' if it’s dark. I can’t see you.”

He shrugged and slipped into the water, the only visible part of him becoming those glowing eyes, “That’s too bad, Shrimpy. Better start swimming.”

They were so bad at swimming, legs paddling in futility as they tried to get to the deep end of the pool. The water was black as ink under them, feeling endless. They felt a motion below them and disgust crawled up their throat as they paddled faster. It was slow moving, they waved their arms through the water and spat up the saltwater that got in their mouth. 

If it was, in fact, Floyd circling underneath them, he was simply toying with them now. The motion they felt went still as they got to the other side and they paused to catch their breath. 

The room was silent under their heavy breathing. They looked around and felt the sweat bead on their neck and shoulders, under their arms and at their hairline as they wondered when he would catch up or pull them under. Nothing of the sort happened.

They kept paddling towards the edge of the pool so they could lean on the wall instead of feeling so unsteady with these waterwings on. As they splashed slowly towards the wall, they relaxed infinitesimally.

An arm shot up in front of them, webbed hand grabbing their face as a sharp, spiking pain lanced around their shoulder. They screamed as they were pulled under, the breath they were expelling turning into nothing but bubbles.

They could hear giggling, sort of like the sound of pebbles sifting underwater, and he let them go again. Their head popped above water and they gasped for air, touching their shoulder and wincing as the saltwater tickled the wound there. Their fingers came back smeared with a dark substance and they began paddling faster, climbing out of the pool as soon as they could.

“Man, you got the water all dirty. It smells like blood now.” Floyd’s voice startled them and they looked around.

They couldn’t see him, not from wherever he was. Their lips quivered and voice shook as they spoke.

“You… you bit me.”

“Uh, duh, Shrimpy. Why do humans gotta have such thin skin anyways? It makes it harder to do fun stuff.”

“What the hell are you even saying? You can’t run around biting people!”

“I don’t,” He said, plainly. They could almost make out his silhouette in the water, or at least see the ripples as he moved towards them, “Well, since you wanna be lame and complain about a little bite, guess we gotta get out of the pool now.” 

He hefted himself up onto the lip of the pool and popped the cork on something. They could hear him swallowing and then they could see his teal scales change into pale skin. He frowned at them and that primal part of their brain whispered that they should run.

They swallowed and stood up, frowning and clutching their shoulder, “I… I’m gonna go find a first aid kit.”

They turned on their heel and Floyd pulled them back by the seat of their swimsuit.

“You’re kinda stupid,” He mused, “You were gonna walk into the pool again. Do you wanna keep swimming?”

“No!” They yanked away and waved their foot in front of them, ensuring that the floor was solid, “I already told you that I can’t see, Floyd.”

He giggled again as you entered the locker room and gathered your clothes.

You hoped he was bored, but it was an asinine and frivolous wish.

[cdragons]

Truce Part 2

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 Pairing(s): Ikaris x Persephone!Reader Word Count: 1.8k Prompt/Summary: Part 2 of Truce Miniseries! Warning: Neurodivergent reader is neurodivergent, Hecate!Reader bestie is her own warning, Ikaris was kind of a douche Note: Thank you to everyone who takes the times to read my writing even through it is likely way too self-indulgent to be considered in-character! Special thank you to the most amazing and incredible beta editor in the world, @valeskafics! If you have not, please go check her works! She mostly does HOTD, GOT, anything Ewan Mitchell, and literally EVERYTHING she writes is incredible! Also a HUGE shoutout and thank you to @ethereal-athalia, who is literally my psychic soulmate when it came to thinking of literally ANYTHING for this AU! She was a major part in figuring out the plot and events of this world, and provided me so many ideas that I would not have been able to create any of these works for Sephia and Kaetlyn if it weren't for her help.

As moments passed since Kaetlyn and Druig left together, hand-in-hand, Ikaris was caught up in the sudden realization that he was now alone in a very public courtyard of the Hanging Gardens with you.

And with each moment passing, it was brought to his attention that he hadn’t even the slightest clue of how to act around you, let alone what to say.

“Fuck,” he thought, “this is getting awkward.”

Noticing your friend’s shift in demeanor, you immediately assumed that his discomfort must have been caused by your sudden appearance. So, you attempted to remove yourself from his company so to not cause him any further distress.

“Um, Ikaris,” you started, “if you had other engagements, I really don’t mind walking back to the Domo myself. I know that Kaety sort of pushed me to you, and I don’t want to make you uncom-”

But Ikaris quickly interjected with so much panic that his voice actually cracked, “NO!” Upon hearing his own voice, he flushed in embarrassment before clearing his throat before continuing, “I mean – no – I don’t mind at all.” Not wanting to further embarrass himself in front of the women who held his heart, he shut himself up before he could continue to stammer like an idiot.

“Thank Arishem that Druig and Kaetlyn are not here to witness me in my current state,” he thought to himself, “I would never be able to live with the humiliation.”

Staring at the man before you, you took advantage of the silence to take in all his features. It was a rare sight to see Ikaris so flustered, especially when one considered the sheer number of Deviants he’s killed is only rivaled by Thena and Kaet. You ended up letting out a very unattractive snort as a small grin crept up the corners of your mouth, and upon seeing Ikaris’ perplexed reaction, you couldn’t help continuing to laugh at his very evident confusion.

“No, no, I’m sorry,” you tried to explain, “I am not laughing at you-well, I suppose I am laughing at you, but it is not so much you that I am laughing at, but the situation.” You could hardly breathe with how hard your body shook in hysterics, leaving your explanation much to be desired by the Eternal whose confusion only increased at your reasoning.

Raising a singular eyebrow, Ikaris’ expression was a mixture of equal measures of distress and incredulity as he was forced to witness to the love of his immortal life laugh at him. Scoffing in response, he couldn’t help but comment with a slightly bitter tone, “Forgive me if I find that very hard to believe at the moment.”

“No, no, no- I promise,” you tried to explain. Taking a deep breath, you finally stopped laughing while still maintaining a bright smile that cause Ikaris’ body to flush for a very different reason, “Alright, I’m very sorry, that was rude of me. It’s just that- I’m not so used to you being so…not you?”

With a deadpan expression, mouth lines pursed together to further showcase his lack of amusement, he decided to at least hear you out, “Go on?”

“It’s just that,” you paused to find your voice, “I’m not used to seeing you act so different from yourself. You’re usually so overly confident and can be a bit arrogant. So, seeing you flustered and a bit vulnerable, it’s nice! It makes me feel closer to you. And it makes me so happy seeing this way now, compared to how you were at the beginning.”

Ikaris let out a massive groan while pinching his nose bridge. He knew that you had no intention of offending him, but it pained him in hearing your early opinion of him several millennia ago. Despite your shy personality, you were brutally honest and straightforward. A lesson he learned the hard way and a little late to his embarrassment.

He could still feel the sting on his face after you slapped him for his insensitive comments toward your powers, and the role you played in humanity. Ikaris was immediately struck dumb by your temper. Despite being a thinker, you had the ferocity of a fighter. The events that followed the uproar caused an immediate shift in dynamics amongst the fighters. Kaetlyn practically made it her life’s mission to make Ikaris’ life beyond insufferable. She and her shadows played a number of cruel pranks that would scare the life of any human. If it weren’t for his superior physical durability and strength, Ikaris was sure that he would be knocking on death’s door with each passing day. Ashamed to admit it, it took several attempts for you to truly forgive him.

The first could at best be described as a reluctant admission of harsh words that were exchanged, along with the guilt of how Ikaris’ words made you feel. It goes without saying that you were less than pleased, and refused to even pretend that his meager words were sufficient enough to even qualify as an apology.

The second time was when Ikaris approached you whilst you were instructing the humans on how to properly harvest and store the crops as food storage in preparation for the off-seasons. Try as he did, you refused to even spare him a glance as you remained steadfast in your work to prepare the Earth for the bountiful gifts it provided to humans as a result of your tender care.

The third time could not really qualify as an apology, as Ikaris was fed up with your attitude despite his multiple attempts of reconciliation. Outright demanding that you stop your childish behavior, he was struck dumb by your cool composure. In a steady voice, you explained that he had never once showed genuine remorse for his behavior, only how you felt. As a result, he made no action to change his actions, and continued to behave as if he were superior to you. Even when Ajak tried to conciliate, she was promptly stopped by Kaetlyn physically stepping in front of her; and in a low tone, she warned their leader of the unspoken consequences should she intervene. You proceeded to express your displeasure with him by further announcing that you had no interest in being forced to endure the company of someone whose only interest in her work was so that he would have an easier time to seduce Sersi. When you were done, you swiftly turned away to your quarters, eager to put as much distance as possible between you and him.

Kaetlyn followed after you, but not before snickering at the stupefied expression on Ikaris’ face. She certainly lived for the moments where the man’s overwhelming hubris got him in trouble.

It was the most mortifying experience in Ikaris’ existence. Being Ajak’s second-in-command, he was unused to the idea of being questioned, let alone outright dismissed. To bear witness to your fire, you both humbled and ensnared him with your words. And on that day, he was determined to make a true effort in gaining your loyalty and friendship. Upon changing his ways, you graciously gave him another chance, albeit still keeping him at arm’s length. But he had never been so grateful for his decision, as it marked the start of a friendship between mutual respect. And if he dared to hope, perhaps it could possibly lead to more.

Taking in his embarrassment, you decided that you’ve teased Ikaris enough, and wanted to make amends.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” you quickly apologized- hoping to keep the atmosphere light and not spiraling to depressing, “Please, let me make it up to you! I packed a picnic for me and Kaety to share, but since she’s- OH NO!” Your sweet tone shifted to distress as the realization that the basket that carried all the products of your labor and research was carried by your friend, who was now long gone to who knows where with her telepathic lover.

Seeing your afflicted expression sent warning signs to flash across Ikaris’ mind, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“The picnic basket! I forgot that Kaety was the one carrying it! She wanted to test out a new spell she learned from Lady Frigga!” Your eyes were filled with agony at your absent-mindfulness, now how were you to make it up to Ikaris?

“Sephia, I don’t understand. Why is the basket so important?” Ikaris was sure that there was nothing dangerous enough that would possibly cause so much worry, but he never knew with you and Kaetlyn.

“That basket was filled with crops that I personally cultivated in my lab at the Domo! I was planning to show them to Kaety so that she could taste them, and we would discuss how to possibly integrate them into their lifestyle! I even had Gilgamesh’s help in preparing some of the dishes with the new herbs and spices I developed to be paired with the vegetation!”

Taking a slight pause to gather your thoughts, Ikaris was enthralled at the pink tint blooming on your cheeks as you stammered out your next words, “And- well- I figured that since Kaety would now be spending the day with Druig, I thought that it would be nice if I could share them with you as an apology for laughing earlier. And, I figured that it would be a good idea for you to taste them. Since- well, I do value your opinion- since that- you are my friend.”

Touched that you trusted his opinion of all people on a matter so important to you, Ikaris immediately softened his tone as he walked forward to grasp your shoulders, and lowered himself to face you at eye-level.

“Sephia,” he whispered out- his rich accent was so warm but somehow leaving you with chills- “you have no idea how honored it would make me to try your creations. But you don’t need to apologize for anything. I know you didn’t mean anything by it.” Tracing his hands from your shoulders, down your arms, and stopping to grasp your hands, “Whether you like to believe it or not, I do know you enough to know that you aren’t the kind of person to intentionally ridicule others at their own expense.”

Despite melting at your Ikaris’ comforting statement, you still felt a twinge of guilt stubbornly creeping into your heart. Summoning all the courage in your heart, you stood on the tips of your toes to ask something a bit forward for your standards.

“Ikaris,” you breathily purred out, “come with me to my room.”

Taken back, Ikaris thought that his mind had conjured up your voice. Jumping back to look into your eyes, only to see that you were completely serious.

“Sweet Sephia,” he thought out, “you will be the death of me.”

Tagging: @valeskafics, @ethereal-athalia, @aphroditesmoon, @asa-do-your-thing, @vikingqueen28, @justmymindandstuff, @spacetalbot, @beananacake, @grimbunnie, @bellamys-girls, @lex-g-t, @mimireaken, @futureartpresaon, @spacetalbot, @beananacake, @its-actually-minicika, @junopur, @vikingqueen28, @dreaming-for-an-escape, @allisonoops12, @bibissparkles, @karimac

ps: if I bolded your name, I couldn't find the link (sorry)

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[sophierequests]

the start of something exciting // academic exposures part one

Navigation┃Main Masterlist┃Requests

Pairing: Jesper Fahey x gn!Reader

A/N: This is one of the most self-indulgent fics I have ever written and I am not sorry about it. I'm currently outlining my term paper for a linguistics seminar, and the idea came to me during that. I am so sorry if you don't care for linguistics, but I just had to include a titbit of my own topic or else I'll go mad.

This is part one of an ongoing miniseries! Find the miniseries masterlist here!

Summary: After a rather uncomfortable encounter with the Dime Lions, Jesper finds himself in the middle of the University District, looking for somewhere to hide. Thankfully, a helping hand isn't too far out of sight.

Genre: Fluff, a tad bit of Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 4.9K

Warnings: Talk about Jesper's mother and parental death (you and me both Jesper), bittersweet bonding times, strangers to friends to ???, emotional intimacy (briefly)

No detours. Kaz had been painfully clear about that. Clear enough for Jesper to walk right into one. 

Well, technically it wasn’t his fault - not everything at least. The open gambling table just looked too inviting and the prominent wads of kruge in his pocket basically serenaded him not to let this opportunity pass. How should he have known that all the other supposed gamblers were Dime Lions and that the whole scene had actually been one giant set-up?

What kind of misfortune led him to hightail it through the damned University District of all places passed through him completely. It was a complete instinct to run off as quickly as he could, causing him to be stuck in a maze of lecture halls, student flats and libraries.  So now, he not only had to attempt and navigate the narrow streets and crooked buildings he had barely gotten to know during his brief stay at Ketterdam University, but he also had to do his best to outrun the men following him. It didn’t help that the campus seemingly had been remodelled since then, making his escape route even more difficult than it had to be. And Pekka’s saintsforsaken goons simply didn’t want to let him go. 

Jesper ran and ran until he felt a distinct burn inside his ribcage, restricting his air supply and forcing him to slow down. By now he had thankfully put enough distance between himself and his pursuers to not have them biting at his ankles anymore. He was certain that if he had to keep up this brutal pace, he’d end up fainting and getting caught anyway. It was a foolish thing to do, but when he reached the stairs leading up to another ancient-looking institute, he hoped to be hidden enough to take a quick break. He pressed his back against the cold stone facade behind him, clutching his side to ignore the desperate need for air. He probably should have been a bit more vigilant in choosing his hiding spot, especially since the university had its own security personnel that were more than willing to apprehend any suspicious figures roaming around the premise. But from what he could see, the majority of buildings on campus were already vacated, fallen victim to the scattered attention span of overworked academics. 

That’s what he thought. 

He hadn’t even been able to take a full breath before the door next to him swung open. A pair of unexpectedly strong hands grabbed the lapels of his coat, yanking him inside the intricate institute. As much as he wanted to fight against whoever had the audacity to treat him like an abandoned sack of potatoes, he was too weak to do anything against it. Without as much as a word of introduction, his back was fiercely pushed against the hard wall right next to the door, a hand immediately being smacked over his mouth to keep him quiet. He wanted to say something, but every attempt at formulating a sentence was muffled beyond recognition by the palm forcing his lips shut.

“Shut up for a second, won’t you?” you hissed, cocking your head towards one of the windows to give you a better view of the street in front of the building.

The two of you stayed like this for a few more minutes - a terribly awkward scene for people that had never seen or spoken to each other before. When you reckoned that letting him speak wouldn’t result in another life-and-death situation for either one of you, you carefully removed your hand from his mouth, dismissively wiping it on the fabric of your pants. He almost appeared offended at that gesture. 

You took a brisk step back, granting him a bit of personal space from the previously pretty intimate position you were in. He must have looked like an absolute flustered mess for you to be this wary of him. In all honesty, he was. Your hand had been scorching hot on his skin, close to feeling like it would leave a burn scar. But for some reason, it hadn’t been all that unwelcome. Saints, in some sick and twisted way, he liked it. 

“There may be a whole lot of these bastards running around, but they aren’t ballsy enough to enter an institute building without explicit permission of the dean. Trust me, they tried it before,” you explained calmly, your voice sounding aeons gentler than it had only mere moments ago. Now that you weren’t pressing him up against a wall, you looked a lot softer in general. What he had expected to be his last mortal punishment turned out to be just another exhausted-looking university student that seemed to be equally on edge as he was. “However, I’d still suggest you stay here for a bit longer. They can be a real pain in the ass sometimes, so I wouldn’t risk it presenting yourself on a silver platter for the next hour or so.” You paused briefly, biting the inside of your cheek and casting a cautious glare around the opulent foyer. “Follow me.”

This time, you held out your hand, beckoning him to take it and let you pull him away once again. Against his better judgement, he extended his own arm, abiding your bidding with a foreign sense of excitement. Kaz would have probably whacked him with his cane, had he known what exactly his sharpshooter was stumbling into right now. However, Kaz wasn’t here and the rush of adrenaline surging through him was way more interesting to pursue. 

You towed him up the winded marble staircase and through a birch-paneled spacious corridor, passing an array of wooden doors and adjacent hallways. Jesper’s body went into autopilot, not even properly registering the number of turns or stairs taken. He prayed that you’d accompany him back downstairs again when all of this was over because he sure as hell wouldn’t be able to navigate this building on his own.

A bit out of breath, you reached a set of arched double doors which you promptly unlocked, letting go of his hands to do so. You pushed them open, leading him into a comfortable, high-ceilinged room, presumably a library of some sort. Jesper really wasn’t a person to be enchanted by the prestigious academic decorum, but even he had to admit that the dark oaken shelves and the massive collection of worn and well-read tomes instilled a certain overwhelming sense of respect inside him. 

He followed you to a wine-red couch that must have been at least three shades lighter when it was still unused. You pulled out a rattling box of matches, lighting the wick inside the oil lamp smoothly before blowing it out with one swift breath. Meanwhile, he watched you with a keenness bordering on religious, not even once taking his eyes off you, even though his whole body told him to do anything but stand still. He had been so fascinated by the way you weaved through the endless hallways as if it was second nature, and now, he felt the same sensation watching your features become more defined in the warm glow of the lamp you just lit. It should have been too mundane to catch his attention this way, but somehow, it still did. He didn’t even know your name, and yet you felt eerily familiar to him, like an old friend he hadn’t seen in ages.

“Alright,” you mumbled under your breath, dragging out the last syllable impossibly long. You let yourself fall back onto the padded couch behind you, gesturing to the empty space next to you. He was hesitant at first, but judging by the fact that you hadn’t strangled him yet, agreeing to your offer couldn’t cause much more harm.

“Uhm, I…” he started, unsure of how to proceed. It wasn’t every day that ended with him being shoved inside an abandoned university building by an admittedly quite attractive stranger, so his rehearsed phrases weren’t all that useful to him. “I suppose I should thank you for saving my ass earlier, I don’t think that I would have been able to outrun them on my own.” An awkward chuckle left his lips while one of his hands instinctively shot up to rub the nape of his neck. It frustrated him that you had somehow managed to reduce his usual flirty persona to a flustered mess that stumbled over his own words. “My name’s Jesper Fahey by the way,” he added quickly, scolding himself for sputtering out his full name as if he needed to rectify something in front of a court.

You laughed in response to his stiffness, allowing your eyes to carefully scan his tense expression for the first time since hauling him inside. He was undeniably handsome; his piercing gray eyes and silky brown skin made him look so out of place in a ragged city such as Ketterdam. 

“A pleasure,” you finally spoke up, shifting in your seat to tuck one leg underneath you. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N, but please just call me Y/N, formalities aren’t really my thing.” A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips when you said that. Simply judging from your outward appearance, he could have bet that you were another one of those stuck-up, spoiled trust-fund babies that only decided to go to university to please their parents. It was a horribly surface-level assumption, but that’s what he was used to from his own, albeit very short, experience here. It was refreshing to see that you seemed to go completely against his initial beliefs, acting more as if you’d belong to the Dregs than to a prestigious institute such as this. “If you don’t mind me asking, what did you do to piss them off this much? They’ve been on campus quite a few times; prying on the female students or trying to make profit by stealing from the vulnerable ones, but they never actively chased someone.”

Jesper swallowed thickly, contemplating whether he should just tell you the truth or whether he should opt for telling you a quickly thrown-together lie. He mindlessly let his hands move to the seams of his belt, unintentionally revealing the two revolvers hanging from his hips. This mishap went unnoticed by him until he saw your eyes fixating on his sides.

Shit. You sure as hell wouldn’t be this hospitable after learning who he really was.

Instead of looking shocked by this revelation though, you shook your head in amusement, leaning back into the couch and prying your eyes away from his guns. “Let me guess, the Dregs?”

“Wait, how do you know that?”

“As I said, I guessed. And you’re way too pretty to belong to any other gang. These idiots chasing after you are more or less living proof of that.” A sudden rush of warmth spread over his cheeks, almost feverishly travelling down to his neck. He was used to being flirted with or complimented, but your remark sounded so genuine, even though you almost said it casually.

Since Jesper was still haggling with the right words to give you an appropriate answer, you took matters into your own hand. You quickly pushed the conversation in a different direction, talking about yourself a bit more whilst also asking him about himself. And as time went on, he began to ease into the situation, marvelling at how simple it had been for you to make him feel comfortable. 

He learned that you were just as old as him and currently studying to get your master's degree. Well, you were in the first semester of your master's degree, but that was still a lot further than he had gotten. You told him that you were studying linguistics, a subject he hadn’t really had any idea what it was really about before you started talking about it. He still didn't quite understand what it was, but he knew that it had something to do with languages, grammar and a lot of reading. The reason for you being inside the department this late, and also the reason why you had a key, was that you worked for the research programme of your field, which granted you access to basically the entire building whenever you needed it. And since you preferred studying alone, it wasn’t too much of a surprise that you’d be here until the night. Jesper believed that it had to be pure divine intervention, but he didn’t say it out loud.

“So, what do you intend on doing after you finished your degree?” he asked sheepishly, hoping that his tone didn’t sound too condescending. He just wasn’t sure what one might do with a piece of paper that told others about their knowledge of transitive verbs or noun phrases - whatever these things were.

“If my thesis goes well and my professors like my research, I’ll probably work on getting my doctorate.” He raised his brows almost comically. You had spent the last few years of your life studying, not even taking one semester off to do Saints know what, and that wasn’t enough? You wanted to get another degree? On one hand, he admired your dedication to your field, but on the other hand, he was slightly frightened of you.

“I don’t quite understand,” he continued, his interest growing. “What does one…do with linguistics? Like, I get that it’s a lot of reading and writing, but what is it good for?”

Thankfully, you didn’t take his genuine confusion as an offence. “Linguistics isn’t just simply talking about grammar and words. It’s also figuring out what’s behind it. It’s about finding patterns and drawing conclusions.” Your gaze wandered over his form, lingering on his cheeks for a brief moment before you resumed your explanation. “Knowing why things are the way they are can help us in recognising these patterns in the future. Without you having to tell me, I can safely assume that you grew up in Novyi Zem.” The assessment shot out of your mouth so quickly that Jesper almost choked on his own spit. But you weren’t finished. “Don’t look at me like that. Your speech is very audibly influenced by Zemeni, so that’s an easy thing to figure out. What’s a bit more difficult to figure out is where exactly you grew up. But judging by the way you talk, you probably lived on a farm of some sort. At least during the formative years of your language development. And you were probably mainly raised by a masculine parental figure, your vocabulary tells me just as much.” 

He froze, suddenly thinking that listening to Kaz wouldn’t have been such a bad idea. There was no way that you just figured all of that out by just listening to him speak. Absolutely not. And if that was the case, he was even more intimidated.

“You…you only figured that out now? By hearing me talk? That’s impossible,” he retorted, dumbfounded.

“It’s not impossible at all. It’s simply forensic linguistics. I worked through it in my bachelor’s thesis, a hefty but terribly intriguing topic,” you laughed, watching his face contort into an even more confused expression. “We don’t shape the words, they shape us. You think that you have a firm grip on what you say and what you don’t say, while in all actuality, you have no power over the words you know or don’t know. Every sentence, every word, even every syllable belonged to someone else before it belonged to you. And there are certain things, ways and methods of expressing yourself, that belong to a group of people just as definite as their vocabulary.”

Even though his head felt as if it might burst at the seams of his hairline, he was beginning to understand. Slowly, but surely. Academics really have never been his strong suit, so he didn’t expect to ever grasp the concept fully.

A heavy period of silence followed, which he had half-heartedly anticipated being uncomfortable. The anticipated tension never came, instead, you simply sat there; thinking, observing, and somehow, speaking in your own way.

“You were right,” he said suddenly, catching both of you off-guard. You raised your brows, cocking your head so little that it was barely noticeable. But he noticed. He couldn’t stop noticing.

“About what?” you asked tentatively, coaxing him to continue.

He swallowed again; once, twice. Hoping to clear the obstruction that had formed in his throat. He had the strong urge to tell you about himself, more than he already had. He wanted to tell you about his mother, the farm, himself. He wanted, but he also feared. You were basically a stranger to him; a stranger with a name. It would be weird to dump his whole dramatic backstory on you within a few hours of knowing you, wouldn’t it?

“You were right about me.” The answer spilt out of his mouth before he could form a proper game plan. “My da planted jurda for a living. I mean, he still does, so I suppose speaking of him in past tense would give someone as vigilante as you the wrong idea.” You chuckled at his newfound humour regarding your occupation, folding your hands in your lap as you waited for him to continue. “I used to help him out a lot; planting, digging, occasionally stealing the liquor from his cabinet because he didn’t drink it anyway. It wasn’t fun work, but it taught me a few things, and apparently, it also taught me how to speak ranchy enough for you to read me like an open book. I bet you’d be able to do the same to my father if you’d know him, once he opens his mouth he won’t close it until you force him to.”

“I see, that’s where you get it from,” you remarked with a grin, earning a playful jab from his knee in response.

“He’s a good man; difficult, but good. I put him through more trouble than I should, but I don’t think that ever made him think differently of me.” The thought of his father spending his days and nights alone on his farm, alone and worried about the fate of his son who he believed to be safe and sound at university, made his heart feel heavy. He began fiddling with his rings, shooing away the memories of his father’s disappointed face when he told him that he lost all of his money. “ A prim and proper Kaelish gentleman to the very marrow of his bones.”

Your eyes shot up to meet his, staring him down with such intensity that you might as well could just stare through him. “You’re Kaelish.” The statement sounded more like a question, underlined by the quizzical expression present on your face. “That, I wouldn’t have been able to guess.” He smiled, almost as if he had evened out the score in the unspoken quarrel you had going on. You looked at him for a while longer, mustering every scar and feature thoroughly. If you had been someone more serious like Kaz or Matthias, he would have probably found some sort of malice in the way your eyes fixated on him. But there was no ill will in your gaze, rather a sincere curiosity he couldn’t quite comprehend. Another point added to the exhaustive list of things he didn’t understand about you.

“I love him, but we haven’t talked in quite some time now. Ever since I moved to Ketterdam, we have sort of grown apart.”

“What brings someone like you to a place like Ketterdam in the first place? Becoming a gang member surely wasn’t your dream job, was it?”

“The work on the farm wasn’t for me. Da knew it and I knew it too, so he sent me off to study here. Let’s just say he wasn’t too happy to find out that I didn’t continue my studies.”

“So you chose to become a sharpshooter instead?” You nodded towards the shimmering pearl-handled revolvers that he presented openly by now. 

A fleeting memory of his mother passed through his mind; it always did whenever he thought about his guns, cherries, or his Fabrikator abilities. Bittersweet feelings washed over him, and he knew that it would be foolish to tell you about what happened to her. However, what was one more foolish choice at the end of a day during which he had constantly staggered and stumbled?

“Actually, my ma taught me how to shoot when I was a child. She could have shot flies had she wanted to. But she was too kind to even think about harming them.” Jesper plucked at the cuff of his dressing shirt, straightening it out like his mother did when he was still a child. It soothed him; helped him to keep the tears at bay whenever he remembered her. “You should probably thank her for making your assessment of me so much easier. She taught me everything I needed to know about living on the Zemeni frontier and what it means to be…me.”

“She sounds like a lovely lady then,” you gave him a comforting smile, having caught the sadness that laced his voice. 

“She truly was…,” Jesper sighed. “She died when I was seven. She had been…sick, so I guess it was for the better. Even though it doesn’t feel like it at all. My father and I rarely ever speak about her now, but I know that he thinks about her every day. And so do I.”

The unexpected feeling of a warm hand on his leg almost caused him to jump. One of your hands had moved from idly resting in your lap, to laying on his thigh, gently squeezing it as a silent way to assure him that you understood. Every muscle ending jumped into action underneath your fingers, willing to do your bidding and relax from their previous tension. 

“Death never feels like a blessing to the loved ones that are left behind. I’m sure she would have wanted to see you grow up and it’s sad that she couldn’t. I’m just as sure that she would be so proud to see who you have become now.” You slowly retreated your hand from its spot on his thigh, thinking that it might have overstayed its welcome. 

This couldn’t have been further away from the truth. He hated that he relished your affection this much; he didn’t even really know you after all. The Barrel wasn’t soft or gentle, it didn’t come to soothe him when he was upset. It didn’t give, it just took. The touch he had gotten used to was either used for pain or for pleasure, not genuine comfort. It frightened him how much this small gesture meant to him.

“I, uhm, thank you. That does mean a lot.” More than you can probably imagine.

You didn’t say anything, simply giving him a sympathetic look in order to not disturb the quiet understanding between the two of you.

Even though you really wanted him to stay, the ringing of eleven bells told you that it was time for him to leave. You had been talking for close to three hours now, and still, it didn’t feel like it was enough. There were still so many stories to tell and secrets to uncover. However, you couldn’t justify keeping him with you any longer.

When he noticed the way your gaze shot to the wooden grandfather clock in the corner of the room, he straightened his back, realising that this was the end. “I should probably get going,” he rasped, the unwillingness to leave also manifesting through his voice. “I have taken up enough of your time, and I’m sure my boss is already fuming because I didn’t come back on time.”

“Do you want me to show you the way downstairs? It can be a bit of a maze sometimes, so I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t remember all of the twists and turns we took.” 

“Please.” A toothy grin spread across his face as he stood up, offering his hand to pull you to your feet. 

The walk to the door was mainly held in silence, only broken by the occasional creaking of the wooden floor beneath you. It was comfortable, way more comfortable than any second spent alone at the Slat could be. He didn’t want to leave, but Kaz would rip off his head if he delayed his goodbye even longer.

A violent gust of air hit you after opening the door, making both of you shiver. The night was way colder than you had expected, and your flimsy sweater didn’t provide enough warmth to keep your teeth from chattering. Suddenly, you regretted leaving your coat in your flat this morning.

“Are you cold?” Jesper asked, having recovered from his initial reaction to the wind quite well by now. You gave him an overdramatic eye-roll, resisting the urge to slap him - only lightly, of course.

“I didn’t expect the weather to turn this quickly. And I certainly didn’t expect that I would be staying this late,” you retorted, sticking out your tongue at the lanky man next to you.

He laughed at your childish reply to his question, shaking his head and provoking a few of his short defined curls to fall onto his forehead. Before you could say anything else, he shrugged off his jacket, moving towards you to drape it over your shoulder.

“You don’t have to-”

“It’s fine. I’m not cold. These are quite cosy,” he said, patting the thick fabric of his vest. 

“Jesper, I have a ten-minute walk back to my flat, a little cold won’t kill me. Your walk is distinctively longer.”

“I’ll be fine,” Jesper assured, tugging the jacket closer around you to keep you from giving it back to him. “I still owe you after all. You genuinely saved my ass today, and this is the least I can do.”

“I-”

“Shush.” He held up his index finger, letting it hover only a few centimetres away from your face. “Also, this gives me a reason to come and see you again. Only if you want to see me again, of course. If not, you can just pin the jacket to the front door of the Crow Club, I’m sure that after this, I’ll have to watch the door often enough to see it.”

“I’d love to see you again. Albeit, preferably be in less drastic circumstances,” you beamed, tentatively letting your arms slip through the sleeves of his jacket. You weren’t all that cold anymore, but whether that was because of the jacket or the burning heat in your cheeks wasn’t relevant. “I’m here basically every day, so the chances of missing me are very low. Just ask for me at the reception and I’ll come down. There are quite a few places to hide away and talk. And who knows, maybe I’ll even invite you back to my place if I like you enough.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

He gave you one last wink before casually strolling off towards the Slat. He turned around once more just to check whether you were still standing there. Sadly, you were already gone, probably scrambling to get home before midnight. 

His heart pounded inside his chest at the mere prospect of seeing you again. You had done something to him that he couldn’t quite explain, and it made him even more restless than he already was. He was really done for, and there was nothing that he could do to slow his descent into the void that was you.

It was well past one bell in the morning when Jesper stumbled into the Slat. He had been so lost in thought that he completely lost his way, ending up somewhere in the Zelver District. He had hoped that the rest of the Crows would be busy doing Saints know what, and that he could just swiftly stalk upstairs unnoticed. But it seemed like he had already exhausted his luck for the day.

“Jesper!” Inej’s voice rang from the living room just as he had tried to sneak past it. Pretending that he didn’t hear her would be futile, so he opted to just face whatever might await him inside.

Nina and Inej were sitting around the small table in the middle of the room, a long-forgotten plate of waffles stood abandoned on top of it. Their previously anxiety-filled faces changed into ones of relief when they saw the sharpshooter enter.

“Thank the Saints,” Nina exclaimed, putting a hand over her heart as if she just lived down a heart attack. “We thought you were kidnapped! Kaz was close to going out there himself to look for you.”

“Be glad we talked him out of that idea,” Inej grumbled. “He was fuming.”

“What took you so long?”

“Dime Lions.” He thought about telling them the truth, they were his friends after all. But if Kaz caught wind of the fact that he somehow managed to not only walk right into a trap but also waste the majority of his time pouring his heart out to a complete stranger, he wouldn’t react amicably to it. “They chased me, so I had to hide and wait it out until they gave up. But hey, I managed to finish the job, just with a little bit of delay.”

“And you also managed to lose your jacket?” 

“The word ‘losing’ is a bit relative, isn’t it?” he replied, a knowing smirk on his lips which left the girls too confused to question his antics any further.

He knew what he was talking about and that was enough.

Taglist:

Grishaverse fics in general: @yesshewrites1 @dal-light @pomagranteseeds @treasureofmy-heart

Jesper Fahey: @ell0ra-br3kk3r @writingmysanity @fall-writes

[heresathreebee]

Kinktober is almost upon us and I hope to get a lot of writing done now that I'm

TEMPORARILY UNEMPLOYED

(Voluntarily, don't worry)

Right now, I've got [Number] of fics for [Characters] below SO FAR THIS IS ONLY JOSEPH QUINN AND JOE KEERY CHARACTERS:

1 Kurt Kunkle from Spree (don't @ me, I haven't watched the movie bc I'm too scared and I would hate him in real life but THIS NEED BITCH WOULD BE A GREAT SUBMISSIVE)

1 Steve Harrington from Stranger Things solo (this one's verrry self indulgent 😘)

1 Eddie Munson X Reader X Steve Harrington threesome

5 Eddie Munson fics

2 Tom Grant from Makeup 2019 fics

1 Leonard Bast from Howards End (proper pretty boy, that one, I also havent seen the source material but fuck canon)

1 Prince Paul from Catherine miniseries 2019 (this little manchild can and will be tamed)

aaaand

1 Young!Ned Stark but it's also Joseph Quinn (because HEY the books I read some of them, they're grrrreat! He'd be a good Edmure Tully actually andimworkingonthwtseparatelyshhh)

We are at 13 ficlets and counting...

What's that? No most of them aren't finished! What do you take me for, a diligent author? Nah son I always put the cart before the horse

[touyaspeach]

Maybe this is just me speaking as a fat person but like, I hate getting really into a fic and then it's so obviously written for thin people. Like talking about "cute little bodies", "lifting you with ease", "tiny bikinis", etc etc etc like... yeah okay. Got it, it's not meant for me. My faves wouldn't lie me because I'm big, I know. It's frustrating.

I'm gonna write this tddk x chubby reader miniseries and I'm going to make it so self indulgent and very obviously aimed towards chubby women because I'm tired of feeling like this.

[the-13th-rose]

Welcome

So I post a lot of writing on this blog. Pretty much all of it is done on here now. Below are the tags you can search for my different pieces (as well as like. posts that reminded me of them or stuff about the stories)

#nago & the demon - My Samurai Jack fic, in which a woman named Nago seeks revenge for the destruction of her village as a child. To do so, she resurrects Demongo, a once-formidable demon who served as Aku’s right-hand-man. The fic tells a story of the pair seeking to restore Demongo’s power and becoming closer as a result.

Prologue / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6

#kiss from a rose - A self-indulgent crossover taking place in a dream world. This fic is a self-ship experience and a journey into my own mind. It takes an often surreal tone due to the setting’s dream nature. Rose finds herself called into the woods outside of her college campus and stumbles across a dilapidated lodge. Upon entering the lodge she finds herself confined to a dream world within her own mind, populated by her most beloved, her most whimsical daydreams, her deepest desires...and her darkest fears.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3

#helluva boss: in desire we trust - Upon her death, erotica writer Thorny197 finds herself in Hell, where she is promptly offered a job by the prince of lust, Asmodeus. The fic follows Thorny as she tries to adapt to her new afterlife, making meaningful connections, hooking up, getting into trouble, learning more about herself, and developing into a more confident person. (Mature readers only please! There’s lots of sexual references and it’s possible there will be actual smut in later chapters)

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

#blosc: partners in crime - A miniseries of fics based on Buzz Lightyear of Star Command, centering around NOS-4-A2 and his new henchwoman, Carmilla. 

“Carmilla” (Episode 1) / “Under My Wing” (Episode 2) / “Return of the Slayer” (Episode 3)

#reaching into thorns - a fandomless story based on a fantasy au for some of my f/os that portrays them as suitors for a princess. Princess Rose of Briarburg is being courted by a lich, a man-eating demon, a fallen god, a nøkken, and a vampire, but she’s none the wiser.

Chapter 1 / 

#the witch and the war machine - a Clone Wars fic I've wanted to write for years. Asajj Ventress and General Grievous are put to the test and must work together to survive. Gradually putting aside their differences and getting closer, when they realize what their master, Count Dooku, has been hiding from them, they begin plotting against both him and Darth Sidious.

Chapter 1 / 

You can also read this one on AO3 / Chapter 2

I’m gonna list one-off stuff I want to share here

other stuff

#selfship stuff: I am a selfshipper and have a number of romantic and platonic f/os. I’m not the jealous type and am poly with all of the romantic ones anyway, so you don’t need to worry if we share an f/o. We’re cool. They’re listed below the read more

I make stimboards now! the tag is just #stimboard. I might make one for you if requested but it depends on how I feel

I love #whump and #hurt/comfort. Both are tagged in case that bothers you but also so you can find it more easily if you want to look for it

Romantic F/Os

- Demongo (Samurai Jack) [Tag: #merchant of doom]

- The Beast (Over the Garden Wall) [Tag: #the loveliest lies of all]

- General Grievous/Qymaen jai Sheelal (Star Wars) [Tag: #i’m no errand boy] (poly with Ventress & Ronderu)

- The Horned King (The Black Cauldron) [Tag: #black-hearted devil] (poly with Maleficent)

- Christine (originally an AU version of the titular Christine from the book and film adaptation but is now pretty much a Helluva Boss succubus OC) [Tag: #let’s cruise]

- The Miner/Harry Warden (My Bloody Valentine (1981)) [Tag: #be mine 💝]

- Asajj Ventress (Star Wars) [Tag: #the bald banshee] (poly with Grievous & Ronderu)

- Asterios (Fate) [Tag: #sweet berserker]

- Hassan of the Cursed Arm (Fate) [Tag: #caring assassin]

- Yorktown (Azur Lane) [Tag: #love and liberty]

- Kurogiri/Oboro Shirakumo (My Hero Academia) [Tag: #mama i’m in love with a criminal]

- Green Mage (Everhood) [Tag: #born chaos] (poly with Drawcia)

- Licorice Cookie (Cookie Run) [Tag: #bittersweet heart]

- Millennial Tree Cookie (Cookie Run) [Tag: #tears of the millennial tree]

- Rattlesnake Jake (Rango) [Tag: #snake rattle n’ roll] (if you're the type who freaks out over ppl self-shipping with animal characters [he's obviously anthropomorphized and of human intelligence but go off I guess] he's got human and naga forms too)

- Lord Shen (Kung Fu Panda) [Tag: #ghost with a hundred eyes] (ditto of the above, he's got human and harpy forms too)

- The Spirit of Christmas Yet to Come/”Future” (A Christmas Carol) [Tag: #let us spend infinite winters together]

- Anubis (various fictional interpretations of Egyptian myth, not like the actual pagan deity) [Tag: #you can trust a good boy with your heart]

- Asmodeus/”Ozzie” (Helluva Boss) [Tag: #tell me you love me in private 🎶] (poly with Fizzarolli)

- NOS-4-A2 (Buzz Lightyear of Star Command) [Tag: #love bites 🦇]

??? (When I can’t decide between friend and lover)

- Striker (Helluva Boss) [Tag: #save a horse 🐴 ride a cowboy 🐍]

- Obanai Iguro (Demon Slayer) [Tag: #the serpent blade]

- Takasu (Merman in My Tub) [Tag: #himbo of the bath]

Platonic F/Os

- No Face (Spirited Away) [Tag: #best faceless friend]

- Valtiel (Silent Hill) [Tag: #they looked like monsters to you?]

- Samhain/”Sam” (Trick ‘r Treat) [Tag: #season’s greetings 🎃🍭] (My little murder nephew)

- Fizzarolli/”Fizz” (Helluva Boss) [Tag: #send in the clown]

- Charlotte "Charlie" Emily/The Marionette (Five Nights at Freddy's) [Tag: #surprise! 🎁] (My niece who needs so many hugs)

- Mitsuri Kanroji (Demon Slayer) [Tag: #the loving blade 🍡]

- Saki Nikaido (Zombieland Saga) [Tag: #the delinquent idol]

S/I gallery

Self-inserts to me are more like characters that I simply play as. Some are heavily based on me in both appearance and personality, while others are mostly their own characters.

- Apple Cider Cookie (Cookie Run)

A scarecrow that Licorice Cookie brought to life with an experimental spell. She’s made of spiced apple bread dough with apple cider filling and caramel frosting for hair. She’s a loyal minion of Licorice Cookie and. Very hyper.

Tag: #s/i apple cider cookie

- Six-Prong Lucy (Rango)

A jackalope who works as a gun for hire and made a name for herself as a sharpshooter. Lesser known is her status as a long-time “companion” of Rattlesnake Jake.

tag: #s/i lucy

- Dr. Carmen Lugosi/”Carmilla” (Buzz Lightyear of Star Command)

A medical researcher specializing in artificial replacement parts for organics. She sought to cure her own cardiovascular disorder so that she would no longer need to rely on the microscopic nanobots in her blood. When she came across what was left of NOS-4-A2, she began trying to piece him back together, hoping she would achieve her goals by reverse-engineering Zurg’s technology. The energy vampire bit her out of reflex when he was brought back online, and infected the nanobots in her blood, which gradually caused her body to resemble a more vampiric form. Eventually, the nanobots crafted a robotic-looking metal exoskeleton from the machinery in her lab and the iron in her blood, transforming her into the vampiric cyborg, “Carmilla”. Make no mistake, she’s no victim. Though her physical change was accidental, becoming a full-blown villain was entirely her own choice. She quite likes the way she is. This reference shows her without and with her exoskeleton.

Tag: #s/i carmilla

- Helena (Over the Garden Wall)

A kind loner who lives in the Unknown and farms apples and a few other crops for a living. She mistakenly revived The Beast by lighting his lantern and mistook him for a weary traveler cursed with a monstrous appearance. Despite learning the truth, she can’t bring herself to refuse help to anyone, not even the scourge of the Unknown.

Tag: #s/i helena

- Sarah “Thorny” Hawthorne (Helluva Boss)

Protagonist of “Helluva Boss: In Desire We Trust”. A celebrated online erotica writer who had the unusual (and perhaps not completely legal) fate of being welcomed into the Lust Ring upon her untimely, isekai-style death. Employed by the prince of lust, she struggles to adjust to her new afterlife. 

Tag: #s/i thorny

- Rose (Any verse, crossovers)

This one’s literally JUST me. Nothing added or omitted. Protagonist of “Kiss From a Rose”.

Tag: #s/i rose

[magpie-to-the-morning]

Ooooh okay so I am very curious about Easy Like Sunday Morning and Pull The Blinds - Aruba! Who are in these? What's the general plot? What mischief are we getting into? 💖💖

Hey Jen!! Ok so Easy Like Sunday Morning is a supremely self-indulgent lovefest that came from @letterfromvienna fawning over Sweet Steven Grant and how much we want to just lay in bed all day and love on that man. Mainly fluff, a little spice, think white sheets and pillowy duvets and lazy lie-ins.

And Pull the Blinds - Aruba is the fourth (and at least for now, last) installment in a Javi x Reader miniseries I’ve been working on for… wow, more than a year? Part One is a supremely filthy fic that I wrote on a whim bc I just!!!! *clenches fist* I just want to blow S3 Javi so bad. That man is TENSE and he needs a break. There are two other (similarly smutty) installments, and in Part Three the reader confirms that she still knows their safe word - Aruba, because they’ve been talking about taking a little vacation there for so long.

Part Four will actually be that vacation - and it remains to be seen whether our lovers will even make it out of their little rental cottage (they’re both workaholics so one day might be lost to just sleeping, and that’s before Javi sees his girl in a bikini). Also very relaxed vibes - sun and sand and little drinks with umbrellas in.

Ask me about my WIPs

[desiraypark]

Desirayparker20 on AO3

AO3 is where I intend to post my heavier/darker writing, as well as my self-indulgent (and self-exploring?) stuff. I like AO3's tagging and warning system.

I will keep this list updated.

ADAM DRIVER CHARACTERS Lessons in Love - a Professor Charlie Barber/Dr. Kylo Ren series ft. two original characters (Blk/F) - set in alternate/modern universe. // Short Summary: Fresh out of graduate school--good friends and former classmates, Cassidy Lee and Deidre Powell, both push professional boundaries by becoming involved with fellow (and more seasoned) professors, Professor Charlie Barber and Dr. Kylo Ren. (Some CWs/TWs: No big age difference - explained in chapter one notes; smut - mostly light-hearted/awkward humor/some angst). Life with Paterson - an ongoing Paterson series ft. an original character (Blk/F) that is basically me. I’m not getting any romance in real life so I’m pretty much living vicariously through this character lol. // Short Summary: From neighbors to lovers--a friendship has evolved into a romance. Follow the life of Dorinda, Paterson, and their dog, Blondie. (Some CWs/TWs: Anxiety/Sadness/Unemployment/Imposter syndrome/Pandemic references)

What's in This Drink? - a Charlie Barber miniseries ft. an original character (Blk/F) - set in early 1960s New York. // Short Summary: Just when her star on Broadway ascends, Rita Kingston marries famed stage director and former child (teen) actor, Charlie Barber. Barely two years into her marriage, Rita finds herself trying to survive a never-ending nightmare. (Some CWs/TWs: Domestic Abuse, Marital R*pe, Alcoholism, Isolation)

Round One - an Adam Sackler one-shot ft. Female Reader and an original character (Blk/F). // Short Summary: Reader, an adult store employee joins frequent patrons, Adam and Sunshine Sackler, in a threesome. Virtuous - a Clyde Logan one-shot ft. Female Reader. // Short Summary: Long ago, your family made you leave Clyde Logan alone. They urged you to find a “respectable” man to marry. But what they don’t know, won’t hurt them... (Some CWs/TWs: Infidelity/Adultery, Rough Sex, !dom Clyde Logan)

ALGEE SMITH CHARACTERS

JOHN BOYEGA CHARACTERS

LAKEITH STANFIELD CHARACTERS

ROBERT SHEEHAN CHARACTERS

TREVANTE RHOADES CHARACTERS

[bluebellhairpin]

What’s the most selfindulgent trope you can think of that want to write but don’t because you don’t think it’ll be a hit?

Honestly idk how to answer this.

Personally I think Soulmate AU's are self indulgent for me - I do really like them - and I have already written one, lo and behold it has kinda flopped. If you wanna read it, it's a Levi Ackerman X Reader fix called 'Runaway'. So because of that, I guess I've been put off writing them, even if I might want to.

As far as tropes go, I'd probably have to say something like an 'five times they almost kissed, and the one time they did' or 'four times (character) saved (character), and the one time they couldnt' type of trope. I like doing fics where they're shorter fics all smoothed together. Like a miniseries inside a oneshot. But whenever I write those they don't get as much attention as the others do, so that puts me off too. I like writing things you all like, and when I can't add my own enjoyment into it, it takes the motivation outta it for me.

But thanks for asking! Kinda randomly asked, but nonetheless appreciated! Thank you, thank you! - Nemo

[hecohansen31]

Angel

Jim Mason+Influencer! Reader:

(A/N): Hello lovelies!

I am very happy to have you back in this last episode of this miniseries, which I really hope you’ll like, alongside, again, if you have more ideas and want to send asks about this verses... I AM READY FOR IT, BRING IT ON BITCHES!

Also... I have said that this fic might be a bit self-indulgent and it is because, although I am not an influencer of any kind, I am very active on my social medias (mostly instagram, if you want to follow me or anything, and we are mutuals, just DM me) and this July I ended up hitting a very bad kind of exhaustion from that platform.

I honestly ended up feeling extremely shitty, alongside discovering many fake people who were around me, and for this reason I am happy that I managed to get here on tumblr (although there are some fake people on here, but like I don’t have to interact with them).

So, although the cyberbullying part of the story is only fictional, the exhaustion that took over reader, ended up being a reality for me, a bit ago, and although I am all better (better than before), I just wanted to remind you to take healthy pauses from social medias.

Also please don’t shame people who work on them, alongside use them as an outlet for anxiet and stress (like me).

I really hope you won’t judge me too badly, after this...

Also I’ll just remind you to show some love, if you like this, with hearts, reblogs (possibly saying something) and if you have anything to say about these, my DMs and asks are always open!

Much love!

SUMMARY: Jim Mason takes care of his social media exhausted girlfriend.

WORDS: 1,7 K

WARNINGS: Mention of Cyberbulling And Exhaustion from Social Medias (I WASN’T CYBERBULLIED, although I had my fair share of assholish comment, NOT HERE, but the cyberbullying was only fictional, whereas exhaustion is something I experienced back in July)

Jim knew of his girlfriend’s social media fame.

Although he wasn’t informed about the entire thing and how it worked, being more focused on staying in the moment and living it, he was proud of what she achieved with her photos and captions, even going as far as helping her shot a few.

He still remembered the way she smiled gently meanwhile he tried to take photos of her, meanwhile she pointed out each cheap tip she knew, starting with “shoot from a lower angle than my height, so that I might appear taller” and “make sure to take the right light”.

She might have seemed shallow to others, but whenever Jim cried his heart out in her arm, she only had the sweetest words for him, calming him down enough that they fell asleep calmly, next to each other in her simple pull-out.

She cuddled closer to him, whenever she understood he needed it and made sure to always be there, next to him, her entire attention focused on him.

He had never checked her profile, mostly because she had pleaded with him not to give it a look.

“It’s silly” she had mumbled, meanwhile she had tried to get his phone off his hands “… and embarrassing!”.

And Jim had respected her wishes, offering just his help with photos or ideas, but whenever they were together, the entire social media thought was off the rack between them, preferring a direct conversation, although sometimes she got in overload and at that time social medias were her outlet.

But sometimes they were also her damnation.

Jim had noticed the difference in his girlfriend’s mood, since the start of the week: quieter and definitely less happy, a mumble being her way to speak, if she spoke up, clearly not energetic in the slightest and definitely not focused.

His knowledge of drugs and their effects had made him think that she might have been under those, but slowly the unfocused glaze had moved from rage to sadness: one day she was moping on the beach and another she almost got into a rage-filled fight with whatever was not working.

Jimmy had tried his best to understand her, but she didn’t want to talk about it with him so he tried to stay close to her, but the bad week moved to two bad weeks and there Jim had thought about searching through her social, mostly due to the fact that she focused on them more, even neglecting herself and him a bit.

“I just need to write the last paragraph” she had mumbled, meanwhile she had refused to stop writing to sleep a bit or “I will eat after I edited this photo, I mean… I don’t need food”.

It all got Jim worried, more and more.

And then he had decided that he had only one chance to discover what was going on.

He had opened Instagram, her major social network, and then had moved to her profile, the public one (she had a private one, full of photos that made Jim’s heart jump: candid of them together, not professionally taken but… Jim loved them all the same) and had gone through it.

He had first seen that she hadn’t any stories going on, which was unusual since she did her best to try to at least show a bit of her everyday life each day.

“So, my followers don’t feel left out” she had mumbled and although Jim had thought it was a strange voyeuristic idea, he had just hugged her and called her “angel”.

“Angel” was also part of her username on Instagram, due mostly to her followers, which had started calling her “angel”, because of the intrinsic sweetness of her posts and the personality she showed on the social network.

The stories thing had been already strange, but also her follower count had diminished, nothing too bad, but he had heard his angel protest about that.

“I just can’t believe that these people unfollow me just because I don’t follow them back and you know what is worst… I have talked to them… I felt like… we were friends”.

But he had soon discovered the true reason behind his girlfriend’s sadness: the comments honestly made him angry.

The most recent ones were ruthless: “you are fat”, “kill yourself” “you are annoying”…

And they went on, although some were sweeter, clearly (Y/N)’s true fans.

He had honestly hoped it was a troll, nothing but a joke.

But those comments had been serious, since he hadn’t been able to recognize the familiar path of a troll, instead they were real people, under fake accounts or their real accounts sharing that hate.

He honestly hadn’t been able to stop himself from feeling furious now that he understood what was going on, and meanwhile he had signaled each negative comment, he had seen the stories light up, the first one of the day.

A photo with a writing on it: “guys I just wanted to let you know that I will be taking a pause, due to all the hate I have been getting, I don’t know when I will get back”.

Although the text has been intelligently written and concealed her emotion, he had clearly known she was crying meanwhile writing it.

He knew how much work she put into the social media, although it never was her job, she had started, long before meeting him, using it as a relief method from her own problem, so to be let down this way….

… it obviously hurt her.

After he had signaled enough accounts he had just tried to let the rage burn down, meanwhile he had created a plan to make his angel feel better: his first idea had been to go out, knowing that an expensive dinner and a few dances might get her distracted, but this would just push just the argument further.

So, he had just organized a home-made dinner (which meant him ordering take-out), bribing her to attend it with the promise of a lot of cuddles and a make-out session and most importantly to watch for the umpteenth times her favorite movie.

She clearly felt a bit better, when she finally walked in his house, being swept off her feet by an ecstatic Jim, who gently kissed her forehead, before he had put her down, leading her to the little kitchen of his apartment, the one his father had gotten him once he had gone out of rehab.

It was nice, although pretty small, but Jim loved it all more, and since he had met his angel it had all been better.

They had made so many memories, alongside she had helped perfecting it all.

“Ma’am, please sit down” he helped her to the dinner table, taking her jean jacket and her bag, coming back with an open bottle of wine, which he poured in their inadequate glasses, and with the first course, (Y/N)’s favorite course.

“Oh, you went all out” her smile didn’t reach her eyes, but she was indeed grateful, holding out her hand to grab his, which was kept tangled with his for the entire dinner

She talked about her day, chirping happily meanwhile she avoided carefully the social media argument and Jim didn’t pressure her, just watching her eat, in peaceful silence and only when they moved to wash the dishes he grumbled lowly:

-… sweetie, I checked your page on Instagram- he felt her grow stiff next to him -… I know that it embarrasses you, but I thought that you had been so gloomy these past weeks and I thought that your social media might have been bothering you, extremely… so I had to do something…-.

-Oh Jimmy! – she was avoiding his eyes, clearly ashamed -… I am so sorry you had to see all that… it…-.

-You are getting hate thrown your way for nothing, (Y/N)- he wanted to make sure she knew it wasn’t her fault In the slightest -…I can’t honestly fathom people doing this to you, whereas you have been nothing but an angel with them-.

-I am not sure… I mean…- a sad smile was on her face -… I am pretty sure that many people will call me a bitch with no problem…-.

-… well I am gonna fight them all, babe- he brought her closer and smacked a sound kiss on her head -… you don’t deserve this hate, believe me, I spent two hours trying to ban each asshole-.

-That is incredibly sweet, Jimmy Boy- she giggled, but a few tears shone on his eyes -… but I don’t think that it will stop the hate from spreading; that’s why I decided to take a holiday-.

Jim saw that an honest smile shone on her face and moved the rag onto its hook to hug her better, bearhugging her and gently caressing her back, gently, and shushing her cries.

-Angel of mine, I am so so sorry I was not able to know more about this- he mumbled, feeling a low protest -… I honestly thought it wasn’t that bad-.

-I didn’t even talk about it with you- she justified softly, getting a bit of distance between them to be able to watch him in the eyes -… I wanted to handle on my own, because, at first, I thought it wasn’t anything worrying, and then… I just felt like social media were a thing I needed to solve alone, my thing-.

He knew this came from all the prejudices linked with her passion for social medias: he had heard about some of her friends annoying her saying not only she was asocial, but also self-absorbed.

She hadn’t been very open about her life on them with him, also because of this, thinking that he would be making fun of her, exactly like her “friends”.

-I know that you take pride into your profile, but… you can lean onto me, I am here for you- he promised her looking at her in the eyes with extreme seriousness, before hugging her close, keeping his lips on her forehead, a comforting gesture -… I am still extremely proud of you for recognizing that you were having troubles and deciding to distance yourself from that… you are one smart angel-.

She giggled at the nickname, before freeing herself from his hug, although she still felt extremely bad, a smile shone on her face.

-Now you better get in your comfortable pajama, because this smart angel wants to watch for the umpteenth time (Y/F/F), with a lot of cuddles- and she turned around, getting a slight slap on her ass from Jim.

-… don’t forget the make-out session! -.

---

Hello lovelies!

Thank you for coming this far, in my self-indulgent mumbling and thank you for sticking me all through this series, I really hope you enjoyed it, and in case some of you want to read the previous chapters, you might find them here! (Duncan) (Michael)

@so-langdon @1-800-bitchcraft @emmyrosee @blakewaterxx @rocketgirl2410 @ladynuwanda @w0nder-marie @bitchchatter @eternalnostalgia @chirpdesu @dreamxcollide @head-full-of-thougts @lonely-cloud @im-the-music-whore @orendamill @ayeayecaptaingally @loveofmonstersandroses @kleineshaschen @dramapenguinthe3rd @drama-penguins @vampirefairyestelle @ @hplotrfan @a-exmrie @meandmystrangehabits @lovelylangdonx  @britishmoonchild @michael-langdon-appreciation (I keep tagging you and please let me know if it is fine, but I know that you liked the previous chapter!) @mega-combusken @frenchbread4ever  @confettucini @what-the-hecku @langdonsplaytoy @saviorinsilk @cherrysoda-com@loveableasshole @sona-blues  @xoxocrystal17 @bish-ima-clown  @idespac  @annielovebug22 @literary-monster @g4ost  @rubyeru @breakingsupernaturlbad101 @dyns33 @hadeslittlewhore @ lsutgurxb @kelncurls @lathraios @rosegoldrichie @ohlookheather @ softyash @honeylavender-bombshell @ swinginfestivalhoagieflap @lotsofhunny @ ashleyallen-queen-carter @ uniquepandaeagleparty @ elviradamien23

[mdwatchestv]

Everything I’m Going to Watch in June: The Future is Here And It’s Terrible

I’ll be honest with you reader, which is a first as this blog is a constant waterfall of lies regarding an overly ambitious television watching schedule, but this is the truth. There is a lot of potential television to watch this months, and there will be yet ever more in the months and years to come. However it is quite possible, nay more than likely, that nothing will come as close to the pure undiluted perfection that is Fleabag.  I think we can all go home now, TV as an artistic medium has peaked, there is nowhere to go but down. If you have not yet watched Fleabag, please I beg of you, take the five minutes you were going to spend lovingly digesting every word and phrase of this blog and get thee to your television. Get out, go! I don’t want you here!

If you have already watched Fleabag at least twice, then I guess we can talk about other TV -  I GUESS.

If you want to blast off on a rocket ship of anxiety to a moon of horror and stress, may I recommend to you Chernobyl. Catch-22 was simply not for me, and Good Omens is perfectly fine. David Tennant is a superior actor. 

Alright we have a lot going on this month, and the overall theme of the premieres seems to be dystopia. There is a LOT to get through, I’m going to try and make it quick so you can get back to Fleabag. Also as an upfront warning Big Little Lies is NOT on this list, I was told by several different people last year it was “not for me” so I didn’t watch it. However it does premiere this month, you’ve been warned. Okay, let’s do it-

Sunday, June 2nd 

The Weekly - (10pm on FX, and next day Hulu) 

A docu-series from The New York Times that looks at a different news story every week. Investigative journalism is important. I chose this gif as it is better than any marketing materials I’ve seen for this.

Wednesday, June 5th

Black Mirror (Netflix)

More Black Mirror! They’ve gone back to the three episode season, which I think is a good idea for a series that was starting to feel spread a little thin. Hot Priest, Miley Cyrus, Anthony Mackie! Possibly a sequel to The Entire History of You? The future is here and it’s terrible!

Tuesday, June 11th

Pose Season 2 (10pm on FX)

I really enjoyed the one episode of this I watched, the only problem was that the pilot was so long and had so many endings I felt fully satisfied by the experience. Now that season one is on Netflix it will be so easy to catch up in all my spare time. 

Friday, June 14th 

Los Espookys (11pm on HBO)

A Spanish language horror/comedy series from Fred Armisen. A group of perhaps supernatural friends in Mexico City have a horror-for-hire business. I appreciate the weirdness and I think I saw John Early for a split second in the trailer, so here we are.

Too Old To Die Young (Amazon Prime) 

Okay I’m going to include this show with the caveat that it could be absolute garbage. Nicolas Winding Refn’s arguable best work (Drive) he did not write, and results are mixed when left to his own devices (Only God Forgives). So we should all approach this 10 episode series, where episodes range from 60-90 minutes (!!!! RED FLAG) that he wrote and directed himself (red flag), starring Miles Teller (red flag), with a healthy amount of skepticism. On the other hand, it will probs be stylish as hell, with lots of driving around LA. APPROACH WITH CAUTION.

Sunday, June 16th

City On A Hill (9pm on Showtime)

Kevin Bacon, the 90s, Boston, gangsters, intrigue, dirty cops, Matt and Ben, Aldis Hodge. 

Euphoria (9pm on HBO)

High school drama starring Zendaya (not as Meechee). I am all about that dark and edgy teen drama life starring sexy sexy not-teens, but I’m concerned that the press material for this show seems sort of...dour. If this show is even 10% more fun and lively than the trailer makes it appear, I am here for it. I know the title is probably supposed to be ironic, but I’d still like a little sprinkle of it.

Monday, June 24th

Legion Season 3 (10pm on FX)

Yeah I know season 2 got a little out of hand, too self-indulgent, and too opaque - BUT, and hear me out, Harry Lloyd is going to be Professor X!!! HARRY LLOYD!!!!!! HARRY. LLOYD. 

Years and Years (9pm on HBO)

BBC miniseries that goes 15 years into a hypothetical political future in the UK. Spoiler: the future is here and it’s terrible. Also it stars Emma Thompson. EMMA!!!! THOMPSON!!! EMMA. THOMPSON.

Sunday, June 30th

The Loudest Voice (10pm on Showtime)

If you’ve made it to the end of this month and are still feeling masochistic, then I invite you to watch The Loudest Voice, a miniseries about Roger Ailes and the rise of Fox News. Russell Crowe is Roger Ailes, honestly that’s vom-inducing enough. Nice though to book end the month with shows about the news (I use that term loosely here). The Present is Here and It’s Terrible.

That’s a wrap on this month! Impressed with Showtime getting back into the must-watch programming game. I will remind you once again if you would like to eschew this programming and simply rewatch Fleabag, that is OKAY. It may even be WHAT’S BEST.

Love you mean it,

MD

[juushika]

This is my list of the best media that I consumed for the first time (but was probably not published) in 2016.

Books

I read 128 books in 2016 and, unusually for me, almost all of them were new. It was also, independently, a great reading year. As such, this list is particularly long.

Imperial Radch series by Ann Leckie. This was as good as the hype, but not always for the reasons I was lead to expect; the genre and setting is far-future space opera, but plot and investment are character-driven, and it was the ancillary experience and Lieutenant Tisarwat's violet eyes that really kept me engaged. This series is satisfying on the levels I value most.

Steerswoman series by Rosemary Kirstein. This isn't the first fantasy-which-is-actually-sci-fi genre crossover I've encountered, but it's by far the best. The genre-bending is fundamental to the narrative, but also to the protagonist’s PoV, as she uses and creates the scientific method, applying it to a reality which exceeds her comprehension--and which bleeds over into plot twists which exceed the reader’s expectations. I haven’t been this impressed by a book series in a long time.

Dreamsnake by Vonda N. McIntyre. Something like a sibling to the Steerswoman books, with a similar worldbuilding premise but a smaller focus--it's less about redefining knowledge of the world, and more about fostering knowledge in order to improve life on the local, private scale. It’s soothing and valuable.

Witcher series by Andrzej Sapkowski. In particular, Blood of Elves--but this series entire lives on this list because of Ciri. The Witcher franchise is problematic, from its sexism-as-worldbuilding to its flawed balance of politics to plot. But while I rarely become attached to book characters, I am inordinately attached to Ciri, and to her family and those motivated by her. She's central. The books forget, sometimes, that that’s all I care about (and the games sometimes forget it entirely), but when the pieces align to star her I am in love.

The complete works of Octavia Butler. This isn’t the year that I began reading Butler, but is the year that I read most of and finished her work. I rarely find myself in such active conversation with an author, and as much as I’ve critiqued her for her style and occasional limitations, I’m blown away by what she achieved, and by the fact that her work is so compelling and complicated, so ambitious and successful in precisely the ways that matter.

The Goblin Emperor by Katherine Addison (Sarah Monette). This is the most feel-good that a novel has been while still leaving an impression on me--because it’s not frivolous or simplistic, but rather is about the stubborn effort to do good creating real good in the world: a particularly cathartic, empowering variety of wish-fulfillment

Hild by Nicola Griffith. This is half a story, and a laboriously intimate one at that--a gradual coming of age, dealing with issues of gender and faith and identity, the private and political; it took me a little to warm into it, but having done so I loved it--Hild’s PoV is incredibly immersive.

The Sorcerer of the Wildeeps by Kai Ashante Wilson. What an experience! This is yet another SF/F mashup (it was a good year for those), but this is a particularly tropey one brought alive by the vivid and powerful use of dialect. This is a novella that feels bigger than that, that feels more distinct and dynamic than its page count.

Every Heart a Doorway by Seanan McGuire. I don't think the plot in this was entirely successful--but I love the premise so unreservedly as to recommend it on that basis alone. This is portal fantasy meta, looking at the afters and in-betweens of those who visit other worlds (and paralleling the reader experience of existing within/without fantasy), conjuring a bittersweet longing unlike anything I've experienced. I've always loved this genre, but didn't have a framework for my feelings about it until reading this book and:

Fairyland series by Catherynne M. Valente. I am of mixed opinions of this work, too. I love the first book beyond reason, but I don't know what the series as a whole lives up to it--the travelogue aspects grow stylistically repetitive, and on a technical level these come to feel rushed. But all the books have something charming to offer, and there's something sincerely valuable about the relationship between September, Halloween, Maud, Mallow, and the Marquess. Their dynamic is subtextual and complicated, and in ongoing conversation about portal fantasy, identity, and self-determination.

Silently and Very Fast by Catherynne M. Valente. My favorite of Valente's novella so far. I'm surprised by how well her mythological and fairy tale imagery builds upon an AI premise, and by how concrete the AI is. There's a lot of depth in this little space, and it's particularly evocative, even for Valente.

Honorable mentions in books

Alphabet of Thorn by Patricia A. McKillip. This isn't the best or most important McKillip, but I love its tropes to pieces (especially the way that the interpersonal dramas resolve) and it’s probably my favorite of the McKillip novels I've read so far.

The Pattern Scars by Caitlin Sweet. I was sincerely impressed by this book, by its intimately-integrated magic system and the unforgiving, unsettling complexity of the interpersonal dynamics.

Multiple novels by CJ Cherryh. I'm continuing to read a lot of Cherryh, and I've yet to be disappointed by any of her work; her combination of deceptively terse writing style, intimate relationship dynamics, and worldbuilding concepts consistently hits on tropes that I adore.

Black Iris by Leah Raeder (Elliot Wake). New Adult isn't a genre I thought I would ever care about, but I care a lot about Wake's contributions to it, and Black Iris is the novel which has spoken to me strongest so far because its angry, intimate depiction of mental illness is cathartic and sincere while meshing well with the heightened passions which are a marker of the genre.

Video Games

Neko Atsume. I came late to this bandwagon, but it was worth the wait; what a charming, pure experience, and somehow even cuter than I expected. There's not really a lot to say about Neko Atsume, but I love it.

Deemo. Far and above the best rhythm game I've ever played, in song quality, aesthetic, narrative, and gameplay--the latter in particular is so natural, genuinely like playing a piano. I love this game to pieces and listen to the soundtrack all the time, yet I've never heard anyone talk about it. Please give it a try.

Overwatch. Is this art, no; but I have been playing 90min/day since launch, so that's something. I appreciate the changes Overwatch has brought to the genre and the active role Blizzard has taken in expanding and balancing it. It wouldn't be my pick for game of the year, but it’s important enough to earn that.

Pokémon Moon. This, frankly, would be my pick for game of the year. It benefits from the engine development of Gen VI, while continuing the narrative trends from Gen V--it looks fantastic, the UI and battle mechanics are great, but most importantly I cried three (three!) times while playing SuMo. The narrative has leveled up, the character development is phenomenal, and I treasure it.

Stardew Valley. This is a love letter to the farming and life simulator games that it draws from, and it almost exceeds them--I admire the depth and refinement of this game, and it's such a satisfying, soothing experience, exactly as it's meant to be.

Dark Souls III. The micro-level of this release, the cinder construct, isn't my series favorite, although I love the characters in this game; but on the macro-level, drawing the cycles of each installment together and to a close, Dark Souls III is incredibly fulfilling. I also appreciate the reintroduction of more varied enemy types and refinements to the combat system.

Honorable mentions in video games

Deus Ex: Mankind Divided. This is as beautiful as I wanted it to be, but not quite as weird as it needed to be--I miss the push-pull of the body horror in Human Revolution. But what a fantastic graphic engine, and the characters and plotting live up to series standard.

Visual Media

Critical Role. This monster of a show has without exaggeration been a life-changer. It's a huge investment of time and such an unassuming medium, but the payoff is intense. The live creative process has an innate energy, and the cast's obvious investment in character and narrative is contagious. It ate me alive this year, and I regret nothing.

Stranger Things. I wanted Stranger Things to be a smidge less neat (plotwise, especially the ending), but in all other ways adore it, from the conversation between genres to the unexpected but indulgent aesthetic to the character acting. I've rarely been so utterly consumed by a show, to the point where coming up for air between episodes made the real world feel surreal.

Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell. I expected to like this, but was surprised by how sincerely I enjoyed it; the character archetypes combining to develop complexity and depth translates well to a miniseries, and despite TV-quality effects this is an aesthetic and speculative delight.

Black Mirror "San Junipero". I can give or take Black Mirror on the whole, but I treasure this particular episode, both because I think it's one of the better realized of the series in terms of plot delivery and because victorious WLW was balm to my soul, especially in the face of so many dead queer women in television.

Penny Dreadful. The series takes a definite downturn by the third season, but the overall experience was worth it, in part of the surprisingly robust gothic retelling, delightful aesthetic, and found family tropes, but mostly because of Vanessa Ives and Eva Green, without which this would be half a show. The intimate depiction of her vulnerability, intelligence, competency, and honesty was particularly valuable to me; this is one of the few supernatural metaphors for mental illness which I've found successful.

Star Trek: The Original Series, and movies 1-5. I grew up with every Star Trek except this one, and had a cultural impression that TOS was corny and misogynistic--and it is, a little, but it holds up much better than I was expecting and has fundamental charm and value, both as franchise starter and in its own right.

Red vs Blue. I never believed I could be so consumed by a machinima comedy series, but the humor works and the eventual scale of Red vs Blue--its convoluted plot, surprisingly well-developed characters, strong pacing, and fantastic animation--is incredible.

Honorable mentions in visual media

Cosmos: A Spacetime Odyssey. I had never watched the original Cosmos; this remake has some redundancy/direction issues in the middle but is on the whole all I wanted, vast and terrifying and beautiful, but also accessible, even personable.

Ravenous. The gayest narrative about cannibals that isn't Hannibal-related, and so delightful--and it only improves on repeat viewing, where the tonal shifts can be anticipated. Great imagery, fun acting, and such explicit cannibalism-as-metaphor violence-as-romance; it's become one of my favorite films.

The Falling. I love quiet little movies about gender, female experience, coming of age, and illness; this was my favorite of those that I watched this year (but see also: The Silenced), perhaps because it's the most convincing: an intimate, vaguely idealized, unsettling portrait of British girls's schools and  female adolescence.