#still have no idea in what world them being librarians would be more interesting to me than them being queer.

[hana-the-ghostieee]

hey! so you know how from the release of Roujin to Umi people have made a butt ton of fan MVs?? yeah imma go talk about one of them, the one by otoiro??? i think it was??? lemme go check

yep

so imma go talk about thith thing and whatever

also i play osu! (lazer cuz it's newer) and someone (i think it was Ryuusei Aika??? beatmapped) Matasaburo and used a picture that looked... suspiciously similar (does anyone know how to put in pictures from osu beatmaps?????)

okay since i have no idea how the hekk one can take bg images from beatmaps imma describe it to you

um the background looks pretty similar to this one, except the perspective is off to the right side, one of them's wearing a red scarf that's blowing in the wind, they're facing and talking (?) to each other and in the back is a landscape ig (also it's at the mountains which is a bit weird cuz this is next to the sea)

oh okay so um i've checked the beatmap page and um they linked the art so here

okay im done stalling

hc: they're librarians (and maybe boyfriends with an interest for literature *le gasp* that would cute though.) and cuz they're taking a summer break or something because they do that um they just went to a couple of different aisles of the library and took a bunch of books at random (hence Bremen i guess) to read and make stuff on and one of them takes photography (so we get MVs like Miyakoochi, Kutsu no Hanabi, Telepath, Sayuumou and Bremen) and one of them takes art (as in traditional, in liquid paint, therefore MVs like Tsuki ni Hoeru, Dai Ichiya, 451, Matasaburo and Roujin to Umi) oh and maybe Chinokate is a combination of both their skills, therefore. animated peeps holding animated stuff in front of a regular realistic house

i've been just WAITING to get this thing out cuz well i looked at the fan video. and then i saw the art background thing. and then somewhere in the deep void that is my head.

THEY'RE LIBRARIANS. THEY'RE LIBRARIANS. THEY'RE LIBRARIANS. THEY'RE LIBRARIANS. THEY'RE LIBRARIANS. THEY'RE LIBRARIANS. THEY'RE LIBRARIANS. THEY'RE LIBRARIANS. THEY'RE LIBRARIANS. THEY'RE LIBRARIANS. THEY'RE LIBRARIANS. THEY'RE LIBRARIANS. THEY'RE LIBRARIANS. THEY'RE LIBRARIANS. THEY'RE LIBRARIANS. THEY'RE LIBRARIANS. THEY'RE LIBRARIANS. THEY'RE LIBRARIANS. THEY'RE LIBRARIANS. (and maybe they're dating)

i don't know how THEY'RE LIBRARIANS. was more important than THEY'RE DATING but i thought it was so yes.

[reidmotif]

Between the Books

Summary: Reader is a librarian at the library Spencer frequents while he's finishing one of his degrees. They find themselves in a precarious situation when everyone's left and they're the last two people there.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: unprotected penetrative sex, oral (f!recieving), fingering (f!recieving), themes of exhibitionism, public sex.

Word Count: 3.9 k

Masterlist

Being observant came naturally to you, almost as if it was a reflex embedded into the core of your nervous system. You’d say “hello” to a new face and as if under command, your eyes would naturally drift to the small pieces of hair on that stranger’s coat. 

Dog? Cat? Freakishly large gerbil? 

Whatever it was, you couldn’t turn it off. And that’s why when Spencer Reid caught your eye, you simply couldn’t find it in yourself to look away. 

And with time, it seemed like his actions mirrored yours.

You’d taken interest in a position at a university library for the summer. The job seemed to be a welcome change of pace from the likes of hectic summer jobs you’d go for typically in the past, a position that would mostly consist of monitoring graduate-level students who were, thankfully, much calmer than their undergrad counterparts.

 For the most part, you were right. Your days were filled with reading in an air-conditioned building, looking up titles of reference books for other students, and of course, the unexpected, yet welcomed, occurrence of Spencer Reid. 

The longer you spent at the library, the more you came to learn more about him. 

Well, as much as you could learn without actually speaking to the man. 

You’d learned his name from the library card he’d brandish when it came time to check out materials. He’d frequent books about Jean-Paul Sarte, Camus, and Nietzsche, opting to stay in the same, well-lit corner by the window every time he visited. While he could come in at any part of the day, he seemed to prefer later hours, when the library would be mostly vacant. His outfits weren’t over-the-top with formality, but he clearly wasn’t in the business of dressing casually.

 You found it attractive, honestly, how put-together he seemed. 

His return-rate on books was freakishly fast, and at one point, you’d assumed he was checking out books to read a certain page or chapter for research, and would then put it back, until you found yourself properly watching him and realized, no, he actually was just reading that fast. He could finish texts that would take almost a year to cover by seasoned professors and scholars in mere hours.

 How? You had no idea. Nevertheless, you desperately wanted to learn- to know him beyond the gazes of a library hall. 

You’d decided to try your luck at speaking to the man, noticing the three books he’d chosen all seemed to have one incredibly common theme amongst their authorship. 

“Existentialist?” You ask, trying to make your tone seem polite but still friendly. 

He blinks, as if he wasn’t expecting to be spoken to, and takes a second, his gaze meeting yours. “Sorry, what?” 

“Existentialist.” You repeat, motioning to the books you were checking out for him.  “Kierkegaard, Dostoevsky, Kafka. Your books seem to share a commonality.” 

He chuckles, realizing the meaning of your words and shakes his head. “No, no. Not an existentialist. I’d like to believe the world is better than what any of them make it out to be.” 

You smile, and nod. “I’d hope so.” Your eyebrows furrow, head tilting slightly. “Why the interest then?” There’s genuine fascination in your tone, and he seems to absolutely thrive off that, his eyes lighting up as you continue the conversation. 

“I’m completing my Masters in Philosophy.” He responds. “We’ve been doing an assignment on existentialism, hence the ridiculous amount of gloom and doom in my reading.”

 There’s a pause, before he cracks a smile, and then asks you, “Romantic?” 

You look at him in confusion. It’s your turn to not get the joke. “Sorry?” 

“Are you a romantic?” He asks. When you retain that confused look on your face, he continues. 

“You’re almost always reading some variation of a romance novel here. So far I’ve counted Austen, Bronte, and I think I saw a copy of Anna Karenina on the counter once.” 

You feel a bit of heat rise to your face, realizing that in his own way, he’d been observing you as well. In a second, the tables were turned, and the lens you often used on others was abruptly focused on you instead. 

“Well, Anna Karenina is hardly a romance, I’d argue.” You say, before nodding. “But, yeah. I guess I’d say I’m a fan of romance in novels.” 

He smiles, shaking his head. “I’m not asking you if you’re a fan of romance in novels, I’m asking you if you’re a romantic.” He says, putting emphasis on the last word, as if that was supposed to provide some grand difference to the statement. 

“Just as much as anyone else, right?” You respond, still a bit puzzled at his insistence on contrasting the syntax of his statement. 

“I see.” He says, nodding, continuing to look at you, as if he was sizing you up. “I’ll have to pick up a copy of Anna Karenina sometime then. See if it’s as much of a love story as I remember.” 

“I think you’ll find it’s absolutely not.” You reply, smiling. “I believe we have a copy of it here, as a matter of fact, if you’re actually interested.” There’s a hint of skepticism in your tone, wondering why he seemed to be taking so much regard to your conversation.

“Of course I’m actually interested. You seem passionate about the subject.” He counters, grinning. 

“I mean- yeah, I am! It’s a pretty misinterpreted book, I think.” You say. There’s a slight moment of silence, before you find yourself saying your next few words. “I’m also surprised you’re interested. I’m not always sure if it’s up everyone’s lane. Lots of people can’t get through it.” 

“I’m sure the least I can do is try.” He says, shrugging. 

You check out the last of his books, placing them in his outstretched hands. “Honestly, I’m even more surprised you noticed. You seem pretty into it in your corner over there.” You say, half-jokingly, but with a hint of seriousness mixed into it. 

He gives a softer smile, almost boyish, as he replies. 

“You’re pretty hard not to notice.” 

He keeps the smile on his face, giving you a slight nod of his head, before leaving you to deal with the sudden heat that had risen to your cheeks as a result of his words. You couldn’t find it in yourself to respond to his quick wit in the moment, your heartbeat still racing long after he’d left. 

Over that summer, the two of you get continually closer. To your absolute delight, he does end up reading Anna Karenina and better yet, he agrees with you. You immediately take an even stronger liking to him than before. Thus starts your tradition of recommending books to each other, the two of you discussing them when he’d come to the library, almost like a secret, private book club that only you two were privy to. 

You come to learn more about him. His doctorates, his job. The secret of his inhumanely fast reading was revealed to you later down the road, when he explained the abilities of an unconscious mind.. or something. While you wanted to give your undivided attention to him, there was an unspoken part of you that couldn’t help but find it ridiculously attractive when he explained things to you. He never seemed to notice that enduring part of your psyche, and you were grateful for that. 

Overall though, he made quite the friend. He shared your love of literature, and could be a wonderful listener at times. Your previous days of solitude in the library were long forgotten, and you found yourself looking forward to his daily visits, ready to share your thoughts on some book he’d last asked you to read. 

You find that his visits become less and less about the actual establishment, and more and more about you, especially when he opts to visit you at the front desk first, as opposed to over at his usual spot by the window. Somedays, he makes it obvious, not even bothering to peruse the selection of books he was previously accustomed to, and merely opts to talk to you the entire time, right up to the point where you’re locking the doors of the library and heading to your own place for the night. 

There’s a part of you that wonders why he hasn’t asked you out. You wonder why you hadn’t asked him out. It only seems natural, given how much time the two of you were spending- a date seemed like an obvious byproduct of the lingering gazes you’d catch him throw at you, the absolute joy that would bubble in your chest everytime the two of you shared an afternoon. 

You shrug it off. All in good time, right? 

It’s another night at the library, and you found yourself a bit frustrated. You’d asked your manager if there was any way she could take on the later shift of the day, increasingly tired with the hours of the job and simply needing a break from it all. She refused, and tonight, that refusal seemed to be on the forefront of your mind. 

“I just- I don’t get it, Spencer. I know she can take on this shift.” You say, wheeling around a cart of books to be reshelved, talking openly since the library was empty at this point in the day, all patrons packed up and soundly at home– while you were stuck here. 

He stayed, of course, following you around diligently as you completed the task, listening to every word.

 “I get that this is the worst shift to have, but come on. I’m a good employee, you know? I feel like I deserve a break here and there.” You come to a stop, picking up a stack of books with a huffy sigh. “But no. I’m the one who has to go home late. I’m the one who’s on closing every single night. I’m sick of it.” 

He nods sympathetically, and you continue to grovel, deeply appreciative that he was allowing you to vent to him like this. You stand on the provided step-stool on the ground, allowing you to have the height necessary to shelve some books that belonged further up than normal. 

“Like, is it really that hard?” You grumble, your face turned away from Spencer as you find each book’s proper place. “God forbid she sleeps at a later time than normal- or I don’t know, hires someone else.” The last book is reshelved, and you turn around, about to dismount the stool. “And another thing-” 

In the midst of your rant, you find yourself distracted,  missing the step on the stool that would’ve allowed a safe dismount, and you quickly realize you’re falling off, letting out a small yelp before a stronger force keeps you upright- a force that happened to be Spencer’s arms catching you. 

“You alright?” He asks with heavy concern, trying to look into your eyes or your legs, attempting to discern for signs where you might’ve hurt yourself on your descent. 

It takes a second for you to process that you are insanely close to Spencer. His features are almost enhanced by the low-lighting of the dark library, his eyes entirely dilated as he stares at you, his lips soft and perfect– and those cheekbones, god. You could practically cut yourself on them. 

You quickly return to your senses, trying to go back to a more suitable position that wouldn’t leave you so absolutely tongue tied. “No, no. I’m fine, honestly.” You step back, wiggling your leg a little. “See? Entirely fine.” 

He smiles a little sheepishly. “Sorry, I just get worried. I’m a doctor, you know.” He says, a teasing quality in his tone as he steps closer. 

“Not an actual doctor.” You say, rolling your eyes fondly. 

“Come on.” He says, letting his hand drift over back to your arm, which had taken most of the shock of falling onto him. “Humor me.” 

There’s that grin again, and you can’t help but relent. 

And so you humor him like he asked, letting his fingertips trail over the skin to properly check for any injuries, the action much more sensual than it should’ve been for a friend checking up on another friend. 

“You know.” He murmurs, his voice a bit lower than before. “I don’t actually think this is the worst shift to take on.” 

Your throat is dry, a physical reaction being drawn out of you as he touches you, and there’s a conscious reminder you actually have to respond to his words. 

“Oh? Why is that?” You force out. 

“It’s so quiet.” He mumbles out, immediately, his fingertips now tracing down to your waist, as the two of you made eye contact. “Nobody’s even in here at this point.” 

You swallow, trying to calm the rapid beat of your heart. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” 

“I like the quiet.” He says, continuing on. The previously feather-like touch on your waist becomes more grasping than anything else. “There’s just so much more you can get done when it’s quiet.” 

You nod and half heartedly mumble. “Mhm.” You’re far more focused on your growing proximity than his actual words, the act rendering you entirely breathless until he’s standing face to face with you, your breaths mingling due to the closeness. 

“I can feel your heart beating.” He mumbles. “So fast. Do I make you nervous?” 

You lick your lips and nod out of instinct, before squeezing your eyes shut and shaking your head. “No, no. It’s just the closeness. I’m not used to it.” You whisper, eyes opening– and his gaze is as intense as ever. 

One of his hands goes to cup your face. “Unless you tell me otherwise, I’m going to kiss you now.” 

You don’t move a single muscle. 

And then all of a sudden, he’s everywhere. He’s pulling you closer, absolutely devouring you like he’s been starved for your touch all along. His tongue slips into your mouth, and you respond in approval, humming with a deep content against his lips, your hands going to wrap around his neck, pulling your bodies flush together. You don’t want space– not now, or ever again. 

“Fuck. Wanted this for so long.” He mumbles, as soon as he breaks off the kiss, finding the pulse point on your neck, and going at it with his lips, causing you to quietly moan out in pleasure. You’d never heard him curse before, and the act only served to add to the steadily growing throb in between your legs. 

He pushes you even more insistently up against the counter attached to the bookshelves, your weight slightly more supported by the wood, as opposed to his body like before. 

“You’re so pretty.” He breathes out in between his assault on your neck, his mouth finding every inch of your nape, and marking it as his own. It’s almost like he’s hellbent on mapping out every plane of skin there, committing every spot that makes you whine or let out his name to memory.

You’re breathing so heavily, and you think it can’t possibly get any better than this, but he proves you wrong when he abruptly gets to his knees, your eyes widening. 

“Need to taste you. Please.” 

He’s begging, like, on-his-knees, doe-eyes, broken voice- begging to eat you out. 

And how could you ever say no, what, with those pretty eyes of his, and that expression on his face that made you practically weak with need?  

“Yes.” You whisper out, and in record time, he’s undoing your jeans and underwear in one clean swoop, not even bothering to fully remove the material before his tongue is all over your cunt, lapping up the wetness that had accumulated in the past few minutes. You’re half surprised he didn’t just rip your clothing off, given the enthusiasm he was showing at this moment. 

You’re suddenly incredibly aware of where you are- your place of work, a fucking library, and Spencer Reid was buried in your thighs like a man parched, lapping up wherever he possibly can. You can hear the obscene noises of your passion, his tongue lavishing over you, before he pays special attention to your clit, wrapping his lips around the nub and sucking softly.  You cover your mouth with your free hand- grateful that the wood behind you was supporting you, because without it, you truly think you’d topple over from the sheer pleasure of it all. 

“Fuck.” You whisper, voice high-pitched as you try to hold back your noises. “Fuck. Gonna come.” You warn, legs shaking as you barreled towards your release. 

Without warning, his fingers enter your cunt, and you’re fighting back a scream. 

How long had you stared at his fingers before this? How many times had you watched them run up and down the spines of the books he read, or gestured with them constantly whilst speaking? How long had such a simple part of his body captivated you? 

How many times had you secretly wondered to yourself how they’d feel inside you?

It didn’t matter anymore. You had your answer now. Fucking amazing.

“Spencer!” You whine out, his fingers naturally reaching that soft spot inside that you often struggled to even brush against. His lips find your clit again, sucking softly and you know you’re an absolute goner. 

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck-” 

Before you can even voice in coherent terms how good this feels, you’re coming, the walls of your cunt spasming around his fingers as he relishes in the reaction, using the tip of his tongue to circle your clit, and slowing his fingers down as you ride out the remnants of your orgasm. He slips the digits out of you as he rises to his knees, and sucks on his fingers, one by one, practically moaning as he tastes your release.

The sight is downright sinful.

“You taste so good.” He whispers, crashing his lips against yours again, and you’re already needy again when you can taste yourself on his tongue. 

His hands drift down to his own slacks, undoing them and pulling his cock out, already dripping with precum. 

“You ready, pretty girl?” He murmurs, guiding his tip to your waiting cunt. You’ve situated yourself on the wood of the desk entirely now, needing the support for what happens next. 

You nod, and without even realizing he was already mostly there, he pushes into you entirely, and your jaw drops. Your head rests against  his shoulder, trying to accustom to feeling of him stretching you out so fucking perfectly. 

How could you ever fuck anyone else again, when he just felt so perfect for you? 

It seemed that he agreed with the sentiment, moaning softly as his free hand steadied himself by gripping onto the shelf. “You feel so fucking good.” He murmurs. “Can I move? Are you okay?” He asks, softly. 

His other hand rubs soothing circles into your hip bone, and you’re nodding, touched by his concern for you, even during such a salacious act. 

His thrusts are slow at first, still allowing you to get used to the feeling of him inside of you, before he’s truly going at it, his thick cock rubbing against your wet walls in a way that makes you feel light and full all at once. It's delectable, and you never want it to end. 

You whine, holding onto his neck, your head thrown back as you take it, feeling the books rattle around you with every hump he deals into you. You can’t even find it in yourself to care– all that matters right now is you, and him, and how fucking amazing it feels when he’s fucking you like this. 

You can feel yourself building towards another pleasurable release, before you hear the telltale click of the library door opening, effectively removing you from the moment. Fuck. The janitor. 

“Spencer, Spencer!” You whisper-shout, biting your lip. His cock doesn’t once slow inside you, and you find it hard to think when it feels that good. 

“We’re gonna be caught!” You whine out, dizzied by how you were simultaneously turned on and utterly panicked. 

“No, we won’t.” He whispers, gruffly. With your hands now around his neck, he lets his hand drop from the shelf and covers your mouth. He leans in even closer, if that’s possible, eyes dark. 

The sight makes a shiver go up your spine. 

“Stay quiet.” He murmurs, as he begins to deal slower, more deliberate thrusts into your cunt. 

“Feel that? Feel how I’m filling you up, nice and slow?” He whispers, the words barely audible, but with how close he’s standing to you, they overtake every one of your senses, and you nod desperately, eyes glistening as you feel yourself dancing on the precipice of release. 

“Shh. I know.” He murmurs. “Come for me, yeah? I know you want to. Show me how much you like my cock inside of you.” 

It's a combination of his tone, of the risk you two were facing, and the sensation of him that has you responding exactly the way he wants, and in an instant, you’re coming with a shuddering breath, holding back a loud whine, just like he asked you to. 

The feeling of your walls spasming has him releasing as well,  a warmth flooding in your deepest point. His head drops into your shoulder as he attempts to muffle his moans the best he can, and you both bask in the afterglow for a second, trying to pant as quietly as you could. 

Spencer immediately springs into action, redressing you with precision and care, guiding your underwear and jeans back up, buttoning them up for you. You’re still in a slight haze from the two orgasms he’d just given you, and when you properly come to, his slacks are back on, and he leans in for a much more chaste kiss. It leaves you with butterflies, despite everything,  and you find yourself smiling softly at him. The fondness reflected in his expression is undeniable.

“Let’s get out of here.” He murmurs, grabbing your hand and guiding you in between the shadows of the shelves, effectively keeping you both from being caught. The janitor remains clueless, as you two sneak out, giggling like teenagers as you find yourselves outside, the summer night warm and cool all at once. 

“That was..” You mumble, laughing a bit, surprised that had even happened. 

“I know. I- uh. Might’ve gotten carried away?” He says. “I usually like to do that after a date. I just-” He steps closer, cupping your cheek. “I couldn’t wait. I hope that’s okay.” He whispers. 

“More than okay.” You whisper back. 

His thumb slowly strokes over the expanse of your cheek, and he bites his lip. “Could we? Date? Try this out?” He murmurs. “I know I didn’t get much of a chance to say it back there, but I really like you.” 

You can’t help the chuckle that escapes you. This man had just been inside you, and now he was blushing and stuttering whilst he attempted to ask you out. 

“Yes.” You nod. “Let’s try this.” 

He’s got the most genuine smile on his face, and a sigh of relief  can be heard as he leans in again to kiss you, and you can’t help the smile on your face as your lips meet his, the elation in both of your bodies absolutely radiating inside and out. 

You recount your first conversation and know now, there was a difference between liking romance, and being a romantic. 

You reckon Spencer Reid could make quite a romantic out of you. 

this is uploading an hour later than i wanted it to :( but whatever. i hope you guys like this one <3 i'm trying something new! not first person pov, but "you" ? pleaseee let me know how this works for you guys! i love experimenting out with new fic methods but if it's clear this isn't working TELL MEEE so i can go back to what did work. anyway, any likes, reblogs, comments are so so so genuinely appreciated. thank you thank you thank you for reading either way <3

[tweetracer]

Hi! I saw you wanted some barbie prompts so I had a idea.

What if Ken meets someone in the real world and he instantly found them attractive, they end up complimenting him which makes him want them even more to where he forgets the whole patriarchy ordeal and just wants them to love him because they didn’t just ignore him.

💖 Meeting RG!Ken in the Real World 💖

(RG!Ken x Human!Reader)

💖 SO YOU DEFINITELY MEET THIS GUY WHILE HE’S IN DAVY CROCKETT MIDDLE SCHOOL’S LIBRARY. You’ve been working there a few months as a librarian and while it wasn’t exactly your passion it was something that filled your schedule and kept half-decent food on the kitchen table so you wouldn’t complain.

💖 “Hi! Would you point me in the direction of the Horses and Patriarchy section?” The cheerful voice made you look up from where you were hunched over at the painfully old computer- double checking that all of the due books had been checked in.

💖 “Excuse me?” You said, completely flabbergasted by both the words and looks of the man who stood opposite your desk. He was tall; with golden blonde hair and sun-kissed skin he would be strikingly handsome were it not for the ridiculous cowboy outfit he was donned in. (Who were you kidding? He was still ridiculously attractive even with the costume).

💖 “Would you point me in the direction of the Horses and Patriarchy section of this library” he repeated with another charming smile, leaning forwards to rest his chin in his hands.

💖 “That’s…” you started slowly, brows furrowed in a way that made his chest feel weird and tingly. “We don’t have a section for Horses and the Patriarchy.” You explained as gently as you could, eyeing around in hopes of finding the poor excuse for a security officer that usually took his lunch in here despite the obvious ‘no eating in the library’ signs posted around.

💖 The man’s handsome face wilted a bit and for a moment you felt a little guilty for not being able to indulge his ridiculous request. “Oh! Silly me- could you point me in the direction of the Horse Section first? I’ll go to the Patriarchy section after” He said, chipper once again.

💖 “We… don’t have a just Horses section either..” you said again, watching as the man seemed to actually wither, crumbling forwards till his head was against the cold wood of your work desk.

💖 “Do you have a Patriarchy section?” He whimpered, looking up at you from where he’d half collapsed dramatically against your desk- blue eyes glassy and filled with so so much emotion considering the circumstances.

💖 When you shook your head he nearly wailed, sinking further till he was almost entirely on the floor- fringe out of place and hat askew. You stood up to peer over your desk, looking down at the handsome man near-crying on your library floor.

💖 You glanced around, thankfully it was lunchtime for the kids so almost everyone was outside enjoying the sunny Los Angeles afternoon, leaving your room mostly empty. You gnawed on your lips nervously for a few moments before making a decision.

💖 “I can help you find some books on horses though.. and the patriarchy?” You offered, not entirely sure what you were getting yourself into as he jumped up, smiling eagerly and leaning forwards till his face was a few inches away from yours.

💖 “You’d do that for me?” He said with so much awe and amazement you’d think you offered to hang the stars for him.

💖 “…Yeah?” It was your job after all, even if this man was definitely not a student or staff member as far as you knew. Maybe he was a substitute teacher (yeah… right)

💖 But the way his whole face lit up joyfully at something as small as helping him find books made your heart give a little skip in your chest.

💖 You guide him around, pointing out a few books that were somewhat relevant (though he really only seemed interested in grabbing the ones with lots of pictures). Standing next to him you noticed he… really didn’t have a sense of personal space- the man would lean close everytime you spoke up to offer your help in locating relevant books, big baby-blue eyes staring into yours as he hung on to every word you said, nodding enthusiastically.

💖 You felt your cheeks and ears warm go warm at all the attention, occasionally stumbling on a word or two and chewing on your lip nervously between sentences- eyes darting around to anything but the absolute ray of sunshine in front of you.

💖 “Why are you doing that?” He asked innocently, leaning forwards into your space again with only the flimsy spine of Horses, by Ryan Bessin to protect you.

💖 “Doing what?” You said, trying to sound collected and professional though your gaze was still elsewhere, skimming over the names and authors. You jumped a little when you felt him reach out to gently prod at your lip, freeing it from the grasp of your teeth.

💖 “You’re chewing on your lip” he started, unconsciously mirroring the action on his own face. His blue eyes were focused so intensely on your lips and he felt that weird flutter in his chest again. What was that? A side effect of the real world?

💖 “Oh sorry I do that when I’m” you waved your hand vaguely for a moments, waiting till he finally looked away from your mouth to meet your gaze. “Nervous.”

💖 His head tilted in confusion and you were unable to look at him and not see an absolutely adorable, floppy-eared golden retriever puppy. “You’re nervous? Why?” He sounded so genuine and you swear to god he needed to stop looking at you with so much kindness and interest or you may just explode.

💖 “You’re just” you grip tight to the book, “-you’re very… handsome” (and intense) you started again, cheeks warming even more when his face seemed to light up like the Fourth of July- a huge grin splitting his face. “I think there’s another book that might interest you over here!” Frantically you change the subject, thrusting the book forwards and trying (and failing) not to notice just how solid his abs were.

💖 He followed you eagerly, still smiling at you with those weirdly perfect teeth and that shamelessly attentive expression. “Thank you so much, Barbie!”

💖 You looked over your shoulder at him, bewildered. “That’s? Not my name?” You said with a confused but genuine smile. Was it supposed to be some type of weird compliment?

💖 The man blinked, baffled for a few moments before he seemed to remember something. “Oh! Sorry! Force of habit” he laughed, looking bashful as he fingered the pages of the book he held.

💖 (And you definitely didn’t let your gaze slip to those deft, elegant looking hands. Broad and masculine but spared any callous or freckle- his tanned skin nearly perfect)

💖 “So… why exactly are you looking for books on the Patriarchy and Horses?”

💖 He blinked a few times at your question, looking down at the books in his arms as though he’d forgotten they were there for a moment. His smile brightened marginally, and he picked up one of the books at random- The Origins of Patriarchy, waving it loosely in front of your face. “Oh! So I’m learning about this super awesome thing called The Patriarchy”

💖 He almost immediately noticed the slight downward tilt of your lips- and the resulting twist in his chest was not like the fluttering sensations from earlier. No this was… icky- this feeling was unpleasant (something he didn’t actually have a lot of context for) and all he could think of was getting that look off of your face as fast as possible.

💖 “But- uh that’s beside the point!” As flippantly as possible he tosses the book over his shoulder with a bashful laugh. You winced, knowing you’d have to put that up later, but the man didn’t seem to notice; too busy looking at you with those big blue eyes and leaning against the bookshelf.

💖 “O-Okay?” You said, blinking rapidly at him as you chewed nervously on your lip again, trying not to squirm under the pure fascination in his gaze, completely unaware of the rapidly shifting priorities of the man in front of you.

💖 “Oh my name is Ken! Hey- what size rollerblades do you wear by the way?”

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Hi, Thanks for answering my previous question about jobs :>

Anyway, I have more questions.

1)What do the guild do?

2)what does Og!Oda do as a job?

3)What does Bram do?

4) what do the Government! Members do? (I have no idea what to call them)

You are welcome.

Jobs. Part 2

_______

1.

Fitzgerald started a business (I lean towards trading company). Alcott is his mix of vice director, secretary and advisor.

Poe became a writer again, sometimes, he helps both ADAs with solving cases. He does both mostly for fun. All Guild members managed to get their 'implied' money and savings when they were preparing to go to the real world, and, they can not to worry too much about bankruptcy or having job.

Melville would become a museum worker or a consultant in university. He will choose something, that is either about sea and sea travels or about whales. He became quite famous tour guide. On the weekends, he read to kids in the library, telling them stories about sea travels.

Lovecraft is an interesting case. Sometimes, he will act as Steinbeck's assistant/colleague/bodyguard. However, Lovecraft's looks can make people uncomfortable (small side effect of being an Elder God), they need a lot of time to get used to him. So, most of the time Lovecraft stays home, looking after it. If hunting and fishing is legal in the country, he will go hunting/fishing for food.

Also, Lovecraft, during Halloween season, became an actor in hunted houses/scary attractions/festivals. He is more than popular, everyone wants to hire him.

They think, that his tentacles are very good animatronic parts.

Steinbeck became a vineyard owner. Grapes, juice and wine from his vineyard are fresh and taste good. Steinbeck always brings some of his products home.

Lucy is working with ADA/PM and HD. Her ability is good for transferring captured criminals.

Mitchell decided to study to be a seamstress or designer. She has some ideas, good ideas, but, she wanted to take a look at what fashion in this world can offer. Right now, she already created a line of scarfs and ties.

Twain trains paintball and biathlon teams. He wanted to publish his book, but decided to wait for right moment to do it.

Hawthorne, after some studying, became a theology professor in the university.

__________

2.

OG! Oda has multiple jobs. He is a handyman, he looks after kids and teens from BSD Cast, read to children together with Melville. He also a part-timer in ADA/ Private Investigation Bureau.

As for his dream to be a writer... Natsume, Oda and you are working on it. Oda tries to go to therapy, but, he has to be careful with what he said, so police won't be called. Also, back in BSD World, he helped Natsume with writing about Season 3-5 to add to "Story" in app. So, perhaps, there is a chance.

_________

3.

Bram is another "seasonal" actor. Another popular one during Halloween.

Outside that, he is looking after the mansion. Bram still has much to learn about modern times, right now he will attract too much attention.

_________

4.

Ango became a programmer in Fitzgerald's company.

Ayatsuji and Tsujimura, on papers, are part of ADA, but act separately, with Ayatsuji being a detective, and Tsujimura being his helper/bodyguard.

Chief Taneda becomes a librarian. His ability and title aren't needed in this world (for now), so he can have a rest and do something else.

[marvelsdc22]

What's A Soulmate?

Intro: Here it is, the winner of the poll, I hope to have the other one posted in the next few weeks, enjoy~

Summary: Your first year at Abbott is more chaotic than you expected, the unexpected subject of soulmates gets brought up, life is black and white until you've met and start to fall for your soulmate.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Small bout of violence, heated argument, let me know if I missed anything.

Walking into Abbott Elementary for the first time after being hired as the new librarian was a lot more chaotic than you had initially thought it would be, there were several OSHA violations you could already see, it smelled like something had died, there was a camera crew following around a tall woman with long hair that was black on top that went into an ombre of white that you assumed was actually blonde or at least a light brown, not like you knew what those colors actually looked like, you had yet to fall in love with someone that was your soulmate, so you were stuck seeing the world in black and white.

Soulmates were dumb in your opinion, why couldn’t the universe let you test the waters with different loves instead of just picking one true love without your permission, you could be stuck with a clown for all you knew! Nothing against them, but their antics would get old real fast.

Heading into the door on your left, you saw the woman you saw a moment ago deeply engrossed with her phone, knocking on the doorframe to get her attention “Can I help you?” She asked, looking you up and down “Yeah, I’m the new librarian, I’m looking for Miss Coleman?” You said, watching as a smile lit up her face and she started looking at you with newfound interest.

“Well, don’t you look scrumptious” she said, smiling at you and standing from her seat “Ava Coleman, the one you’re looking for” she winked, shaking your hand when you took the one she offered “Let me show you around, get you settled in” she said, leading you out of the room with your face burning from her flirting.

At the end of the tour, you arrived at the library “This is your territory, do whatever you want with it, if you need anything, ask someone else” Ava said before leaving, shutting the door behind her and leaving you to silence and the couple shelves of books that the school had, sighing, you set your stuff down behind the counter, making a mental note to get yourself a safe or small storage to keep your stuff safe and secure throughout the day before grabbing your tablet and going to take inventory of what all you had book wise so you knew where to start.

You don’t know how much time had passed before you heard the door open and two voices “I don’t think he’s the one, Barb, it’s been weeks and still no colors” one voice said “Just keep trying-Oh! Hello there!” The one you assumed was Barb said when you came out from behind the bookcase you had been behind, clutching the tablet to your chest as you looked at the two women, one looking a bit older with a bob haircut and a sweet smile, while the other had long hair with a look of annoyance on her face.

“You must be the new librarian, I’m Barbara” Barbara introduced, holding her hand out towards you “Oh, yes, I’m Y/N it’s nice to meet you” you smiled, shaking her offered hand then looking at the other woman and offering your hand to her, her not shaking it until Barbara nudged her side “Melissa” she said bluntly, shaking your hand unwillingly and shoving her hands into her pockets after.

Clearing your throat, you ran a hand through your hair as you thought of what to say, glancing down at your tablet “I noticed there wasn’t too many books to choose from, let me know if you guys have any suggestions so I can get some more” you said, offering them a small smile and catching Melissa’s eyes widening for a split second “That’s a wonderful idea, I’ll see what all my class wants and bring you the list later” Barbara smiled, watching as your smile widened “Awesome! I should get back to it, but it was lovely meeting you two” you said, offering a small wave before heading off towards the counter, leaving Melissa and Barbara to continue their conversation in hushed whispers.

XXXXX

Two weeks had passed since your first day, you had become fast friends with Jacob, the two of you having a lot of things in common, this in turn meaning you were close with Janine, she was nice but a little too peppy for your taste, Barbara was super sweet and you enjoyed your early morning talks in the breakroom, Gregory was nice but he had yet to come out of his shell with you, you had avoided Ava and her flirting at all cost, then there was Melissa, she was still kind of a mystery to you but you can’t help but be drawn to her, she came into the library during her kids recess “So I can have some peace and quiet” she had told you when you asked, although she mostly talked to you while you worked on your own tasks but you weren’t going to call her out.

Coming into school, you were trying to balance all your stuff along with two big boxes in your arms “Do you need help?” A teasing voice asked, causing you to jump slightly “It would be appreciated” you conceded, feeling one of the boxes being taken and Melissa’s face appearing in front of you with a small smile “Jeez hon, what’s in these?” She asked, heading inside when you managed to open the school���s front door “You remember when I had you guys make a list?” You asked, fumbling with your keys for a moment before managing to unlock and push the door to the library open.

“You’re kidding” Melissa said, astonished as she set the box she was carrying down on the counter and opening it, seeing it filled with books “Did Ava actually give you the money for this?” She asked, watching as you set the box you were carrying down, shaking your head “No, I did, the kids needed more reading material” you said, knowing that you got most for cheap at thrift stores, looking at Melissa when she stayed silent and seeing her staring at you like she was seeing you in a new light and you couldn’t help but see the world a little brighter after that.

XXXXX

As the weeks went by, you slowly started to see in more color, you knew Melissa was your soulmate, but you were too scared to do anything about it, maybe she was yours but you weren’t hers, you had heard of that happening before, it was extremely rare but maybe you were one of those rare cases? You didn’t want to find that out and embarrass yourself.

Opting instead to just ignore the fact it was happening, maybe you could save yourself the embarrassment and transfer schools- “Y/N! How are you doing, dear?” Barbara asked, leading her class behind her and pulling you out of your thoughts “Good morning, Mrs. Howard, I’m doing alright, are the kids here for new books?” You smiled, knowing that she brought her kids by once a week to return their books and get a new one, gesturing to the bookshelves that were now almost fully stocked thanks to everyone’s help after Melissa blabbed about what you had done for them and the kids.

“Mx. Y/L/N?” You heard a quiet voice ask, turning your attention to the small group of kindergarteners that had stayed behind “Yes Dante?” You asked the little boy that had gained your attention to them “What’s a soulmate?” Dante asked, catching you off guard since you weren’t expecting that deep of a question “Oh, well…” You said, trying to think of a way to explain it so a group of kindergarteners could understand.

“So, you all know how right now you can only see in black and white?” You asked after a beat of silence, watching them all nod “Well, when you start to fall in love with your soulmate, your world starts to slowly fill with color then one day everything is bright and colorful” you explained, watching as they discussed amongst each other before another kid, Sammy, spoke up “Have you found your soulmate yet, Mx. Y/L/N?”

Damn these kids were hitting you with all the big questions and all before you’ve had more than a sip of your quickly cooling coffee, glancing over when you heard the door open and unable to help the smile that appeared on your face as Melissa walked in, her engrossed in her phone until she felt your eyes on her, catching your eyes before you turned to the small group of kids “I think I just might’ve” you said, laughing when the kids either squealed or fake gagged, looking over at Melissa who was looking at you with a smile as you interacted with the kids, the redness of her hair starting to get lighter and thinking you caught a glimpse of her gorgeous blue eyes.

XXXXX

Later on that week, you were heading for the breakroom to get yourself another cup of nasty dirty bean water, man you really needed to get up earlier so you could make yourself at least one decent cup to get through the day, so lost in your thoughts that you almost missed the two voices coming from the breakroom.

“I just don’t know what to do, Barb, I think he’s going to propose to me” you heard Melissa say, feeling your heart start to sink at her words “Well, you said you were finally starting to see colors, do you think it’s because of him?” Barbara asked, shifting in her seat to look at Melissa better “I don’t know, maybe” she said, knowing it also started after she found out what you did for the kids “Well, do you love him?” Barbara asked sincerely, knowing she was trying to help, even though each word hurt “I mean yes, but”.

You stopped listening after that, feeling tears burning your vision and nausea start to build in your throat as you quickly turned on your heel and rushed back to the library, collapsing back against the boor after it shut behind you, barely thinking of locking it before the tears started to fall “Stupid, stupid, stupid… you knew you weren’t her soulmate and you still hoped” you muttered to yourself, harshly wiping your tears away as you tried to calm yourself down, even though your whole world was falling apart.

XXXXX

You had decided to take a few days off after that, needing some time to come to terms with everything, even going as far as silencing your phone so you wouldn’t get distracted by concerned coworkers and Melissa, who had been worried about you since the first day you had called off, which made you feel even guiltier, but you knew you had to distance yourself for a few days, you needed to come to terms with the fact that Gary was Melissa’s soulmate, she was going to be engaged to him soon and you needed to bury your feelings for the redhead… right?

When you returned, the redhead was immediately on you “Why weren’t you answering any of us?” She asked, following you as you went towards the library “Well, good morning to you too, Mel” you chuckled, glancing at her as you pulled your keys out of your bag “I just needed a few days to myself, but I’m fine now” it wasn’t a total lie, you were feeling better than you did a few days ago and you knew you were able to put on a good fake face.

The redhead stared you down for a long moment, seeming to debate on whether or not she believed you, deciding to not push the matter further “As long as you’re okay” she decided to say, reaching out and resting her hand on your arm, stopping you in your tracks, giving her a small smile “I am, don’t worry” you assured, trying not to let her touching you affect you.

XXXXX

After that, a few weeks went by you heard arguing as you approached the breakroom for lunch, raising a brow when you saw Gregory awkwardly standing outside the breakroom, him usually being the first one to go in there “Melissa and Gary are getting into it, figured it was a good idea to wait out here” Gregory explained, him not being good when it came to arguments.

You stood there for a moment, opting to follow Gregory’s lead until you heard Melissa shouting at Gary to let go of her, that making you change your mind as you stormed into the room “You heard her, let her go, Gary” you said, staring him down when both turned at the sound of your voice.

“You’re the one that’s causing the argument, I highly suggest you stay out of business that isn’t your own” Gary said, releasing Melissa and getting in your face “It is my business when you lay a hand on my friend” you said through gritted teeth, smacking his hand away when he went to shove his finger against your chest, readying to strike back if needed when Melissa grabbed his arm to pull him back, seeing red when he shoved her harshly back, your body moving before you could stop yourself as you shoved him harshly back against the wall.

“If you touch her EVER again, I will have your head” you threatened, feeling gentle but firm hands pull you back, Gregory stepping in just in time to grab Gary and hold him back when he lunged at you “Alright, that’s enough” Gregory said, practically dragging Gary out of the room, your harsh glare on Gary as he was led out of the room until you felt the redhead tug on your arm, successfully pulling your attention to her, searching her up and down for injuries before you focused on her gorgeous blue eyes.

“Are you okay?” You both asked, the two of you letting out an awkward laugh when you realized you spoke at the same time “I’m fine, I just… I couldn’t stand how he was treating you just now and I couldn’t just sit back and-” stopping your rambling when you felt her hand on your cheek “Thank you… for stepping in when you did” she said softly, glancing at you hand when you rested it on top of hers that was on your cheek.

The two of you stared at one another for a long moment before you spoke up “I have something to admit, it’s going to sound stupid, but I have to say it” you said, pulling away from her and glancing at the door when you heard footsteps and chatter, you knew you wouldn’t get privacy here, nor would you have time to explain how you felt and how she was your soulmate  even though you weren’t hers “Meet me in my classroom after school” she spoke up, knowing what you were thinking, smiling when you nodded, grabbing your lunchbox and escaping the room before you could make a bigger fool of yourself.

The time to tell Melissa your true feelings came sooner than you wanted it to as the final bell rang and your anxiety rose up to your throat, you more nervous than you cared to admit even though you knew how this would go, you’d spill your guts and she’d turn you down “Y/N?” You heard Melissa ask, pulling you from your thoughts “You said you had something to tell me” she stated, her expression neutral but inside her stomach was turning and her heart was pounding with nerves.

“Oh, yes” you said, clearing your throat and taking a deep breath before you let everything out, telling her how you were falling for her and how the more you did, the more colors you saw “I know Gary is your soulmate and I have no chance, but I had to tell you for my sake” you explained, finally taking a breath, starting to panic when you saw the shock on her face “Oh man, I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t of said anything-” getting cut off when her lips crashed into yours.

You froze when she kissed you, unmoving until you felt her start pulling away, pulling her against you and responding to the kiss, once the need to breathe finally overpowered you, you pulled away but continued to hold her close, when you finally opened your eyes a rush of color filled your vision until you focused on her baby blues “Your eyes are beautiful” you murmured, earning a bright smile from the redhead “I see you, I truly see you” Melissa grinned, happy tears filling her eyes as she pulled you in for another heated kiss, now you could tell Dante that you in fact did have a soulmate and could give his group a tamer explanation of what it was like.

[the-al-chemist]

The Beginning of a Symphony - Chapter 35

A/N: Ethel offers some sisterly advice.

Warnings: plotting and mentions of canon-typical social injustice.

OCs featured/mentioned: Selene Fraser and Alan the ferret @lifeofkaze, Eliot Gerard @kc-and-co, Cledwyn Ironwood @that-scouse-wizard

April 1897

Having helped Alan escape from Jim’s clutches, Selene had the grand idea of taking the ferret to the Hospital Wing to check for signs of trauma.

“That’s not a terrible notion. It was rather an ordeal for him, after all,” Ethel reasoned. “Nurse Blainey did say last time that she would not treat ferrets, though.”

“We don’t need Nurse Blainey. Eliot Gerard is helping in the Hospital Wing at the moment.”

“Why?”

“Because he wishes to be a Healer when he leaves school. He has plans to travel all over the world healing people,” said Selene. “I’m certain that he would be more than happy to help Alan.”

Ethel had no interest in spending time with Eliot Gerard, even if he did wish to travel all over the world healing people. The very notion of his doing so seemed nonsensical - surely there were other Healers across the world who could save him the journey. She left Selene and Alan to find Eliot Gerard and set off for the library.

“Good afternoon, Madam Khanna,” she greeted the librarian, who smiled warmly at her. “Did you manage to find the book of Wizengamot trial proceedings you told me about?”

“Certainly, Miss Hexley. I have it in one of the stacks here. I’ll fetch it for you now.”

Madam Khanna turned to the five large stacks of books behind her desk, and Ethel tapped one foot as she waited for the librarian to find her book, which detailed the most notoriously controversial court trials of British wizarding history. She had been looking forward to reading this one since before the start of the Easter holidays.

As Madam Khanna looked through the third stack, Ethel looked around at the rest of the library, which was relatively empty, it being lunchtime and a rather pleasant day outside. Still, there were a few students dotted around, including - she did a double take as she noticed - her brother and Héloïse Perrault. Ethel craned her neck to watch the two of them. Jim was standing by the table at which Héloïse was sitting, his face rapidly growing pink as he spoke to her.

He was asking her to the dance - he was actually asking her. Ethel’s jaw dropped, now so engrossed in the scene that she barely noticed Madam Khanna placing her long-awaited book on the desk in front of her until the librarian cleared her throat. Ethel took the book, thanked Madam Khanna hurriedly, and immediately turned her attention back to her brother, who was now striding back across the library in the direction of the corridor outside.

Naturally, Ethel had to follow him, so she tucked her book under her arm and sped away after him, managing to wait until she had passed through the library doors before she called out:

“Jimmy!”

Jim was already descending the stairs outside, but at the sound of his name, he stopped his tracks and looked back at her. He frowned so deeply he almost looked angry.

“What do you want now?” he asked her.

“Now, don’t be like that, Jim. I am only paying a close interest in my brother’s personal life, which as a caring and devoted sister, is my duty, is it not?” Ethel grinned at Jim, who shook his head and continued to walk away from her. She took the stairs two at a time to catch up. “Oh, I cannot wait to write to Mamma about this!”

“You will do no such thing.”

“But I shall. She is bound to want to know, though I do wonder if she will believe it. Our dear, sweet Jimmy a lothario, whoever would have thought it?”

“Effy, do be quiet.”

“Selene will be glad to hear that Alan helped you find the courage to ask Héloïse to attend the dance with you after all. Say, did Héloïse know that you practised asking her using a ferret? Are you planning on practising dancing with Alan, too? Or holding hands? Will Alan be the best man at your wedding? Will Selly and I be bridesmaids?”

“Ethel, please,” Jim said, no longer sounding irritated, but weary. “Please stop.”

“But…” Ethel’s voice tailed off as she looked at her brother. “Why, Jimmy, you’re upset.” Jim did not look her in the eye; his own were filled with tears. “Why?”

“Because she said no,” Jim told her. “Because she’s already going to the ball with someone else.”

“Oh,” Ethel patted him on the shoulder. “Well, don’t be upset about that. It’s only one silly little school dance. It’s not that important.”

“It’s important to me. Or it was, anyway.”

“It shouldn’t be,” said Ethel. “There are far more important things in this world to be worried about, after all. Think about all the poor Muggle women who cannot vote, or the goblins who have their lives’ work taken away from them, or the house elves who do not even get days off work. Compared to them, your problems are nothing, really. None of ours are. So maybe instead of being upset about a stupid ball, you should be upset about that and focus your energies on helping somehow. If you spend your life doing that rather than moping around, just think about how much more good you might do in the world.”

Jim scoffed, and Ethel raised one eyebrow at him imperiously.

“What, Jimmy?”

“Well, it’s only that you… That those are fine words from someone who wishes to spend their own life throwing a Quaffle through a hoop.”

Ethel opened her mouth to argue with him, but even she had to concede that he had a point. Becoming a professional Quidditch player had been her dream from the first moment she had sat a broom, but Jim was right, Quidditch players never made any differences in the world, not ones that mattered. They simply… played. Just like Ethel, really. She had never made any meaningful differences, nor had she done any good in the world around her, let alone the world at large. Perhaps she never would, but she was not ready to concede that just yet.

So, she decided there and then that she would do some good, even if it was only on a small scale. She sighed, and wrapped her arms around Jim’s torso. He stiffened.

“Um… What… Ethel, what are you doing?”

“I’m embracing you, you ape.”

“But… why?”

“Because” - Ethel did not let go of Jim - “you’re my baby brother-”

“We were born on the same day.”

“- and you’re sad. And, as your older and far wiser sister-”

“There is less than an hour between us!”

“- I am going to make it all better for you.”

Ethel released Jim from her her hold, and he regarded her with a sceptical look in his eyes, so similar as they were to her own.

“How?” he asked her.

“Firstly,” Ethel said, raising her hand to push Jim’s hair back from his face, “we need you to look handsome. Well, dapper. At the very least, well-dressed. And you’ll need to get better at dancing, so we can practise that. And you need a date.”

“But Héloïse is going with-”

“I don’t mean Héloïse. You can go with Selene.”

“Effy, I don’t like Selene,” said Jim. “That is… I like her very well, but I do not feel deeply for her.”

“You’re missing my point, Jim. You don’t need to feel for her to take her to the ball. I don’t feel for Cledwyn, and he does not for me, but we are still accompanying one another.”

“You are?”

“Oh, yes. That reminds me, I need to let him know about that, actually.”

“Right.” Jim frowned. “I am sorry, Ethel, but I still do not quite. understand your point.”

“My point is that we’re going to show Héloïse what she’s missing. Believe me, she will regret not having you as her escort.”

“I don’t see what taking Selene has to do with Héloïse regretting that I am not taking her.”

Ethel laughed out loud. How oblivious he was to the ways of women!

“Oh, my sweet little brother. You clearly underestimate the immense power of a little jealousy…”

[bluejay-in-write]

👀👀

Send 👀 and I'll tell you some OC Lore

Tyyy for the ask!! ^^ SO idk if you were interested in hearing about Himari which is the other half of the chaotic duo that is Himari and Ryuu from my Atla story Winds of Change but since there was nothing else but eyes I thought I would shake things up from the last ask where I mentioned her and talk about one of my favorite Ocs (hell they're all my favorites) Monte who is from my Leverage (Redemption) story Leverage Legacy!

Okay so I love love love Monte's backstory so much!!! Honestly I love what I did with all my Ocs/psuedo Ocs in that fic because Leverage Legacy is mainly about (theme wise) how one person's action can change another person's life and through them can change even more lives because we're all connected. And more specifically it's about how both Leverage teams (og and redemption) went on to affect the world in a bigger way then they themselves will ever realize. (Insert obligatory read me cause imma take ya'll on a ride)

Now Monte is on of my two full Ocs that is apart of next gen leverage group. The other is Victoria who prefers to go by Vi. There is also three psuedo Ocs who I call that because two of them only had one episode each in Leverage Redemption and who's personalities while extrapolated from those two episodes go way beyond and way more in depth than what is shown in those episodes.

So while you guys who have watched Redemption know them as Becky (Harry's Daughter) and Maurice (Client from the Librarian episode) they will be called Bex and Reece in my story because let's be honest who doesn't want a cool nickname when they become a thief and they just deserve better :') (not changing their real names ofc)

There's also Breanna who we all know and love but due to some events after the "end" of Leverage Redemption she will also be extremely different as well for understandable reasons while still keeping the things that make her her ofc. Everyone will also be aged up a decent amount like they will be early to mid thirties which will also create even more changes. Anyways onto the actual character lore!

You will eventually see that all of the next gen leverage gang has a connection to one of the og or redemption gang and Monte's is Sophie. Now we never get to know too much about Sophie's past although it is more touched on in Redemption than Leverage proper and I have my own ideas I've come up with dunno if I'll ever write them out tho because I kind of like her being such a mystery.

Regardless of this though there is a blank point in Sophie's timeline that I would love to touch on and this is during the second season where Sophie takes time away to discover herself and that's where Monte comes in! At this point in time Monte is around nine years old and up until now has grown up on the streets of London learning how to steal and dumpster dive for his food.

He had learned quickly how be quiet and nimble sneaking only what he needed from people's pockets so he wouldn't starve. He picked the wrong target though this cold winters night because Sophie Deveroux had become quite close to the best thief there ever was and no one less than Parker would manage to pick pocket her anymore.

But when she saw it was a young boy Sophie was reminded of someone else long ago and knew that she wouldn't be able to leave this boy out in the cold. So carefully as if with a wild animal she taught him how to trust her eventually feeding him and taking him home to one of her safe houses. It took time but finally she was able to clean him and clothe him taking care of him in a way that it looked like he hadn't experienced in a long time.

Each day he watched her silent expecting her to throw him back on the street. But instead she taught him sign language so they could better communicate. And when he picked that up as quickly as he had picked up stealing she taught him about her favorite heists, took him to her favorite museums holding his hand through how to case a building, and then around her favorite parts of London introducing beauty in his world that up until this point had only consisted of alley ways and dirty sidewalks.

Eventually Sophie realized that her time in what became a home away from how had come to an end and that day he had feared so much finally arrived. But she did not throw him back on the street like he had been preparing for. Instead she gave Monte to a Thieves guild that had owed her a favor making them promise to her that they would treat him right our else she would be back to make them regret doing otherwise.

Of course she had also kept in touch through video calls and letters and always kept an eye out for the day when the newspapers reported that Parker worlds greatest thief had finally gained some competition.

(So like last time this was probably way more than some lore but oh well I've been wanting to gush about Monte for a long time haha. But if anyone is interested I'm always up for doing another post about him and how he got the name Monte because actually when she first asked his name he hadn't had one to tell her. But anyways hope you enjoyed reading if you got to this point!)

[underworld-of-imagines]

Library Dates - Spencer Reid

Note: Reader is Gender Neutral

Summary: Gender!Neutral Reader and Spencer have a standing date night. But how do you go about it without running out of ideas?

The world was a dark place, a dark and dangerous place. Evil lurked in every dark alleyway, every unlit corner, every small crevice that people wouldn’t even otherwise notice. Your fiancé dedicated his life to fighting some of the evil that plagued the world. But in doing so, he sacrificed so much of his time and life to eradicate the evil. In a way, you also sacrificed a lot for his job, and it wasn’t an easy thing to do by any means.

Time with Spencer was a rarity sometimes, often he’d work late nights, or be away on cases for days on end. His job was never ending, and it took a heavy toll on the both of you. Spencer barely slept, most nights were spent with his face buried in a book, others he slept somewhat fitfully. As much as you tried to help his sleeping, there was only so much you could do to quell the loud thoughts running through his mind. In your relationship date nights were rare, and often planned on the fly as he never knew when a new case would come in.

That being said, you tried to keep a standing date night, every Wednesday night. Of course, one night a week seemed excessive for dates, especially 3 years into a relationship. But sometimes you did the most mundane things, like going grocery shopping or eating ice cream whilst sitting on the kitchen counter. That was how you made it work, by keeping things as simple as you could. Once a month, he’d try to take you on fancier dates - thought it usually ended up being more like once every two months. And when he was on cases, he’d make a point to call you on date night – which usually ending up with something more interesting. Sometimes though, he’d just read you a book until you fell asleep.

Tonight was Wednesday, and luckily for you, Spencer was home from a case, and had even decided to forgo staying late. At first, neither of knew what you wanted to do. It was too cold for ice cream, and you had done the grocery shopping days prior. That was when you noticed that you had nothing to read, you had finished your most recent book that day, and you were itching for another.

Spencer originally came up with the idea, which you eagerly agreed to.

So there you were, heavily bundled up in coats, a takeaway hot chocolate in between your hands. You walked down the snowy sidewalk, your destination just within sight. The library was somewhere Spencer frequented a lot, that and the second-hand bookstore on 5th. But you didn’t go there nearly as often as he did – you couldn’t read nearly as fast as he did. He still loved to take you there though.

There was something romantic about libraries, walking in between the shelves of books that an innumerable amount of people had touched. The silence was comforting, no words needed to be said, no thoughts voiced aloud. Instead it was just you, Spencer, and the books. It was perfect.

“Have you found something?” Spencer appeared beside you, the carpet masking the sound of his footsteps.

“Mhm, I think I’m going to go with these. I liked other works by these authors, I’m hoping that these hold up the same.” You indicated to the two books in your hands. They would be enough to get you through the 2 weeks. Spencer, on the other hand, had a pile of about 30 books. It’d last him roughly the same time, maybe even less if he didn’t have a case. “Do you have enough books?” You joked, it was something you said every time he returned from the library.

“No, but they only let me borrow 30 at a time,” he laughed. It had taken him a while to convince the librarians to let him borrow so many books, but they relented once they had seen how fast he could read. You remembered that day vividly, he had been arguing with the librarians for a while, until eventually, one of them came up with the idea. The idea was that they’d choose their favourite books, and he’d prove that he could read them quickly enough to warrant him borrowing so many. A mere two hours later, he stood before them in a small room, reading off the plots, basic profiles of each character, and the themes behind the stories. Finally, the librarians believed him and allowed the system overrides that would make the over-borrowing possible. That memory still made you laugh every time.

“Dr. Reid, funny seeing you here again. Planning for a busy week? You’ve got less than normal,” the librarian joked as you walked up to the checkout counter. They loved poking a bit of fun at the genius, who knew it was light-hearted joking (you had to explain that to him the first time). He let out a light-hearted chuckle, handing the librarian the stacks of books.

Not much later, you were walking out of the library, carrying multiple bags full of books. Thankfully, you had finished your drinks, and your apartment wasn’t too far from the library. Within 10 minutes, you reached your destination, lugging the books up the stairs to your third-floor apartment.

“Thank you for tonight, Spencer, it was beautiful,” you commented once you had settled down. You were sitting on the couch across from the fireplace, a blanket pulled over your legs. Spencer sat next to you, equally bundled up under the shared blanket.

“Of course darling, I’m glad you had fun.” He smiled, leaning over to place a small peck on your lips before curling further next to you.

Sometimes your relationship was hard, but times like this made everything seem perfect.

-----

A/N

I wrote this one on a whim, this is my first posted draft in a while. But today I went to the library, and it just made me think of Spencer.

[pleasantmsp]

So the most recent CR episode had a lot of talk about the gods of Exandria and I have a lot of thoughts on this. This got longer than I expected so I’m putting it under a cut. 

TLDR: I love all the different takes on the deities. As someone who loves the dynamics between characters and deities and the world, I am so excited to see where this leads. My one wish is that we had someone in this campaign that had a connection to their god similar to Pike or Caduceus. I think that perspective is something that we’re missing. 

I will preface this by saying that I am NOT religious AT ALL irl. I actually really don’t like religion for my own personal reasons that I won’t go into. HOWEVER, I LOVE the inclusion of deities in fantasy settings like dnd. I think the relationship between the public and a pantheon that they know is real in some way is so fascinating. 

Obviously gods can be good or bad or neutral or shift between these. Deities can be the creators of all life, they can be empowered by life, they can be manifestations of life. They can be beings so powerful, so technologically advanced, that ‘mortals’ can’t understand them beyond being gods. There are so many possibilities, so many explanations, to how and why gods exist. 

To me, some of the most interesting dynamics to think about and rp are the relationships between characters and their deities. Even building out how npc’s and communities worship and/or show respect to deities in different aspects of their lives is fascinating to me. 

So let’s get into the Critical Role of it all. Now, I am still not caught up on the whole of campaign 3 but have been watching the last few eps. Because of this, I probably don’t have all the information that the characters and people who watched the entire campaign so far have. So, I’ll just focus on tonight’s discussion using what I do know as well as my own worldbuilding and rp experience. 

Watching tonight’s discussion on the gods was interesting. As someone who thinks very negatively about the idea of a higher power/god in real life, it was interesting to see characters in a fantasy setting speak negatively about the gods. I like F.R.I.D.A.’s comparison between the gods and aeormatons. I think it’s incredibly interesting to think about whether the gods would want to rest if they could. I think they and/or Deanna also mentioned that the gods gain power from worship and that they give power to certain acolytes because it helps increase the reach and breadth of worship they receive. I think that’s probably correct. I don’t however think that’s always a bad thing. Something that none of the members here mentioned was the good that gods do for and through their acolytes and champions. 

It’s easy to look at one or the other, good or bad. It’s harder to look at both. And it’s even more difficult to determine whether gods not existing would really improve anything or if things would be a bit different but ultimately the same. I think in a world where deities have been proven to exist, where the average person can pray to the Wildmother or to the Dawnfather for a good farming season. Where a sailor can pray to the Stormlord for safe travel. Where a leader can look to the Lawbearer for guidance. Where a bunch of librarians can take the ideals of Ioun and use that as a force for finding truth and routing out corruption. I think in that world, deities can play many roles beyond giving adventurers fun abilities. Or helping to prevent a death god from roaming free on the material plane. Or stopping Tharizdun from being freed. The gods are evil selfish arrogant betrayers looking for more power. The gods are neutral parties looking to protect nature and life and death. The gods are noble beings looking to protect the world and its people from harm. 

Seeing so many different takes on the gods is so fun. I am not at all saying that Deanna or F.R.I.D.A.’s or even Ludinus’s view on the gods is wrong or that the aspects of those character shouldn’t exist. I think they 100% should exist. Characters that despise the gods are just as fun as characters that worship them same as characters that lie somewhere between. 

I’ve reread this and added to it and edited it and I think I only have one more thing I want to say. I think I’ve found myself missing having someone like Pike or Caduceus in this campaign. Someone with a deep connection and love for their deity to provide a different perspective. FCG, while a cleric that follows a deity, does not follow Avandra in the same way that clerics in past campaigns have. I think because of this, we are lacking a voice in favor of the gods and their acolytes. As someone who really likes that dynamic, it kind of leaves me wanting. Probably one of the few reasons why I didn’t really connect with Bells Hells when the campaign started. 

Anyway that’s it for now I think. If I have anything I want to add, maybe I will! We’ll see. I’m basically just talking into a void so why not? LUL 

[sizhui]

hi angie!! im jjst chilling today but today i plan to go out n buy my bday books!!!

anyways as a fellow bl intellectual i would like to ask u what u think abt general bl stock characters / archetypes!! also as someone whos doing shakespeare this year im curious abt how u would blend currently existing bl story formats w like more traditional lit genres / conevtuons IF YOU COULD!! WOULD U!!

how do u think bl being a mostly Not white people thing has affected its conventions like idk emotional intensity, typical tropes idk!!

looks at u like this 🥺

HELLO DEAR LAB!!!! i saw your birthday books, very good choices, i hope you'll enjoy! Now let us discuss one BL intellectual to another ^_^ as usual, I'll stick to danmei, since I'm simply not well read in Japanese and Korean BL to speak confidently even though I have experience with them...!

When googling people's favorite tropes, most people mentioned Enemies to Lovers. I do like a good conflict, but I like very specific shades of it... I like characters who are ideological opposites, but still hold some affection for each other since early on... Although i have been interested in thousand autumns in which the two leads start as straight up bitter enemies, so I'll see how I'm going to like that! Now, something slightly different that i really enjoy is characters being thematic opposites - demonic cultivator and orthodox cultivator, god and demon, soldier and librarian you name it! I have seen people call this the yin yang trope i don't know if that's a widely used term? I also enjoy slow burn - see Golden Terrace disappointed me in that regard cause they started sleeping together in like chapter 30 come on where is the drama the intrigue :(? I don't care for friends to lovers much unless it's written really well but i really much prefer strangers to lovers!!! A lot of people sigh at the trope of one Character being like "I don't like men it's..only for you ❤️" but i honestly think that's a convention you just have to accept when diving into the world of BL. I like badass shous that aren't annoyingly shy and talkative, charming gongs (sorry lan zhan is ok but strong and silent gongs usually piss me off) I'm probably one of the 5 western fans who actually like the gong/shou dynamic because like. Let's be honest there's nothing wrong with seme/uke in JPN bl either other than ukes being drawn as shotabait often, but since novel art for CN novels usually draws everyone looking like adults I really don't see anything problematic with gong/shou, heteronormativity my ass... i also kinda like when they call each other husband and wife SORRY. I also like the trope of the couple adopting a young boy. I'm not gonna call it found family I'm not gonna even try. I hate master/disciple and i hate school settings. I usually prefer the characters to be rougher men already hardened by life! I like reincarnation and revenge but i don't like Isekai ... Ummm what else is there? Nothing comes to mind rn , if you have some specific tropes you want me to rate, I'm here :)

NOW YOUR SECOND QUESTION HAS ME REALLY INTRIGUED...if i could, i would merge literally every literary genre with BL to be honest. Since you specifically mentioned Shakespeare, i think it would be fucking amazing to see BL adapted into stage plays - i don't mean those funny anime stage plays, i mean straight up tragedies on Hamlet level. Oh i would kill to see that!!! I would also love to see like, someone with an interest in narratology and metafiction write a super meta BL novel like enstars but like really properly yaoi. I don't think that danmei novels written by amateurs have "bad writing" - they simply exist on a different terrain and seek to communicate different ideas from traditional published novels, but i would love to see the two merged in some spectacular novel that takes inspiration from classics!!

Now your third question i would rather turn into a discussion with you, because while I've consumed a lot of East Asian media since a young age i don't claim to have such a good understanding of the cultures to be able to trace how the culture influenced BL literary conventions, but I would love to hear your thoughts on it and compare to what i know! I definitely find it interesting to compare East Asian BL with LGBT media made by white Americans and Europeans, cause they tend to rely on very different things, with American and European gay content being very focused on the issue of homophobia and stuff like family and cheating and coming of age, while Asian BL, despite tackling those sometimes, is more internal conflict-driven, less focused on orientation. I actually prefer it a lot for that - there are only so many coming of age homophobia stories i can watch -_- boring! I see some western fans annoyed that Asian BL rarely discusses orientation and stuff like LGBT solidarity and such, but i like, don't care cause i feel like they're too focused on realism and forget that bl is a genre not meant to perfectly mirror irl gay relationships, but rather provide romantic fantasies for women! Something just came to mind, i recently chatted with a classmate who is a white American, and she said that she finds Asian media confusing because emotional intensity seems amplified to her in anime and donghua, and that she just feels that emotions are expressed differently than in the American media she's used to. I think she's weak and stupid for giving up on watching just because it's different from what she's used to, but since you mentioned emotional intensity, i would like to hear your thoughts about it!

I hope my answer wasn't disappointing, and looking forward to hearing back from you!

[khorren]

Order of Whispers babble

I always picture the Order of Whispers an as an organisation not of wacky hijinks spy missions, but the training for it is actually pretty brutal as you go further up the ranks. I know it’s easy to sort of gloss over the mass genocide the Commander does on a daily basis but I think to get past anything above Agent you’re gonna have to do some real fucky shit and have some very unethical and questionable things happen to you / do them to other people. Sure a Whispers-Commander got the titles of Lightbringer relatively quickly, but I’m sure at some point you got pulled aside and were told “Look, I know this happened. A lot was going on. But you and I really need to have a long, uncomfortable talk about what it means to be a Lightbringer”

It reminds me of a scene in one of the more recent Bond films, where Bond first gets his 00 status having killed 2 people in cold blood. And the idea of an established agent having to go through that sounds well…. “Fun” is not the right word, but from a writing/world building stance, yeah it sounds interesting? An avenue to explore? Whatever. I’m sure writers get excited about all kinds of weird shit in the name of their craft. Also bouncing off the TV show Nikita in which the recruits don’t get the title of “Agent” until they’ve done the deed in a kill mission. God that show was terrible but entertaining.

Anyway! Initiates and Agents perform at various levels and do various tasks within the Order so they probably haven’t had assassination orders, but definitely were assets in a mission to do just that. And to go through the training required one needs to be “hardened”. We’re not talking about emotionless zombies or anything, emotion is still a valuable weapon in an agent’s toolbelt, but some weird-ass training definitely took place so these higher-ranked individuals don’t crack.

My Whispers kids - I felt like posting something with pictures.

Roisin is deep undercover into Priory business and had to undergo a lot of training not to crack under pressure. The slightest micro-expression had to be trained out of her. She’s there to essentially make friends and then abuse their trust in horrible ways. If she has to kill, she will, but she’d rather not kill a librarian / knowledge seeker yaknow?

Sienna was suuuper young when thrown into the Whispers. She was 11 and while she wasn’t given missions, she was just being looked after, she saw the outcome of a lot of things that young kids probably shouldn’t see. It was all presented very matter of fact and this is how the world works. Now she’s tasked with taking the Commander out if she becomes an issue. (They’re best friends btw!)

Isla straight up gets recruited for her sniping skills. “Hey wanna keep doing what you’re doing, get paid for it, and have a global organisation watch your back?” Sure. Sounded handy.

Yhalea, while still part of the Inquest, joins the Whispers for an intel gathering mission. Stays long enough to get promoted to Agent, finishes the job, then promptly forgets about being in the Whispers. Leaves the Inquest. Forms a Krewe.

Allianora joined hoping to find secret records of Kurzick things and hoped the Order would be the catalyst to get her back to Cantha one day. If anyone could sneak into Cantha it would be the global network of spies. Allianora knows the family history and what her ancestors have had to do to survive.

And of course, Serenity. Joined the Order young of her own choice (so she thought), and was already doing stuff with them before the start of the personal story. Being Commander she has no qualms in taking out who she needs to take out. But then of course isn’t handling that well at all post-season 4 / post EoD. So that’s a whole bucket full of trauma to digest.

[mfmilligan]

Update: I'm Still Here

Hey, guys! I should have said something about this sooner, but there won't be any In the Midst this week. It seems June's problems are still affecting me early on in July. But I thought I'd take this opportunity to talk about it.

There's been a couple things bringing me down. One of them is the wave of book bans/censorship that's been spreading the last 3 years. Thankfully, I don't live in Texas, Missouri, or Florida (or any of the states that are passing heavy legislation restricting books and potentially criminalizing librarians/library staff). But that doesn't mean that everything's 100% fine where I am. Both as a library worker and as a writer, freedom of expression and freedom of access to information are important to me. And while my time as a library worker began with the start of the new wave of censorship, this year of all years has really worn me down. Maybe because I'm too hypervigilant with censorship news. Maybe because I worry that the Fahrenheit 451 reality of Florida could be nationwide one day. And maybe I shouldn't worry so much - after all, there are individuals and organizations out there fighting against all this (and the majority of the U.S. doesn't support book bans). But that leads into my next problem.

I'm coming to realize that I'm holding onto far too much anxiety. And a lot of that anxiety has deep roots in my past. I'm conflict-averse for a reason and while I won't go in-depth as to why, I will say that much of how I worry/why I worry stems a lot from certain experiences/individuals that negatively impacted my life. Worrying so much may have protected me and helped me protect others in the past, but it's ruining me now. Thankfully, I will be working through this with my therapist. However, the past couple weeks (to say nothing of the whole month of June) haven't been easy. Many days, I have to dig deep in myself to write. Sometimes getting out of bed is a huge task by itself. And this hasn't just been impacting my writing. It's impacted my reading, my Korean studies, reaching out to friends/family, anything and everything that would make me feel better about life. I have a stack of books that I've kept by me for the past 5 days and I've wanted so badly to read them! But if any of you know the overwhelming numbness & hopelessness that can come with depressive states, you know how hard it can be to do even the simplest things (even if you know they'd help you or bring you joy).

I'm doing what I can, though, to keep doing a little bit every day. Telling stories matters so much to me. Even when I'm not physically writing, my brain is almost always turning over the next story idea or developing an older one. Stories are in my blood and I keep coming back to them, no matter how much life sucks or how much I hurt. And sharing some of what I do on Tumblr and connecting with you all has been one of the best things that has happened this year.

All this to say that, even though I have no In the Midst and no other stories to share on Tumblr this week, I'm still here. Even though life is really hard for me right now, I'm still writing.

And if anyone else has been struggling lately, just know you're not alone. It's difficult enough to deal with hard things as a human being - it can feel doubly hard when you're a writer/creative and those hard things get in the way of creating, the very act that speaks to your soul. I'm rooting for you, and I believe who you are and what you create makes the world a much more interesting place.

There will be new In the Midst next week - I know I left things on a bit of a cliffhanger last time, and I wouldn't dream of keeping you waiting too long to know what happens next! And over the rest of the summer, I will be looking at sharing other short stories here.

Happy writing, everyone - remember to take care of yourselves.

[annih]

Yesterday I received an idea from one of my pals abt hypogeans going undercover inside the mortal world(like how Leofric disguises himself) and I wonder-

Would Khazard be a librarian? I like to think that he has little knowledge abt the mortal world, so he was recommended that job. I can almost imagine him laying his feet on the desk and reading abt the theory of relativity while no one's around.

(+a headcannon that Framton would have terrible fashion senses if he joined in. Here's how he would be like:)

As far as I could tell, most  hypogeans doesn’t have a reason to even go to the mortal world. Or the main hypogean cast at least But hey, this is just a what if right? So let’s get into it.

Ezizh

Ezizh… he probably has no interest in going to the mortal world. Unless perhaps when Annih tasked him something that would require him to visit the mortal world or out of curiousity of something? Either way, I think would disguise himself as some generic Ulric or stuff like that. He might be creative when it comes to terrorizing someone but when he’s in disguise he would probably choose a form that isn’t sus in any way. I imagine him looking at humans minding their own business and began to fanisize about what he can do to break them in their sleep.

 Mehira

Mehira is probably one of the hypogeans who has visited the mortal world quiet frequently as it said, her slaves are scattered across Esperia. Now that she has her eyes on Fawkes, she might gonna stalk him from time to time, disguising as anyone depending on the setting and situation. Since Fawkes can detect demonic stinky I think Mehira wouldn’t try to disguise herself as Raine or Mirael (can Mehira hide her demonic stink from Fawkes? Cuz dunno) Other than to annoy Fawkes or look for more interesting individuals, I don’t think Mehira gonna care much about the mortal world.

 Khazard

Khazard…he might gonna disguise himself as a marine expert? Since he used to be the guardian of the sea? And his serpent could disguise itself as either a pet fish or a dog like Leofric’s dog? I don’t know why he would be in the mortal world in the first place but I guess there is nothing wrong in taking your serpent out to walk among the mortals once in a while. I imagine animals being more sensitive to Khazard and his pet’s presence and gonna get a little scared and defensive which won’t be much a problem.

 Zolrath

About Zolrath, I think he might gonna be in the mortal world to cause more trouble. Probably out of boredom cuz he is able to cause trouble by simply meddling with time. Who he would disguise as? Hmm, I honestly don’t know. But eitherway he would be a troublemaker. Though I do imagine him pranking Leofric a little. Maybe ruining the book orders in his shelves so Leofric would have trouble finding a book he wants to read?

 Mezoth

I don’t think he has enough restraint to even do that. He would commit a massacare no matter what was his original goal was. He is banned from sneaky missions.

Lucretia

I heard she kills children who are in the same age as Owen to make their mothers feel her pain and to hurt Zaphrael whom she cannot touch yet. But I like to imagine her strolling around some places in the mortal world, imagining on the activities she could do with Owain if he’s still alive, daydreaming about watching him grow into a strong man and becoming a warrior like what he wanted to be. She might get bitter whenever she see families having fun tho. 

 Mortas

Mortas might go to the mortal world for deals and contract stuff. He might disguise himself as a rather refined man. Not sure if he is interested in human titles like Earl Leofric but I imagine Mortas fancy himself by doing rich people stuff. Y’know, visiting fancy restaurants, might as well visiting rich people hang outs. He also might gonna try to look for potential ‘clients’ among the humans.

 Zikis

Zikis only visited the mortal world to feast. Disguising as an outsider as it was said in his backstory. Though sometimes I imagine him went into a normal cat form and get himself high on catnip idk.

 Vyloris

Troublemaker 2.0. Might ruin people’s lives for fun. Maybe she could go around shopping with Mehira?

Canisa and Ruke

They don’t wanna be human let alone disguise as one

[transientpetersen]

Having performed friendliness and having demonstrated friendship, I’ve resigned myself to the idea that the two are not particularly comfortable complements of each other. If this surprises, consider the innate opposition of their motivating sentiments.

Friendliness is a way of saying “I see you as a person of intrinsic worth, the same as all others of intrinsic worth”. My neighbors get friendliness from me. The librarian gets friendliness, the barista gets friendliness, the other members of the community garden get friendliness; none of them get friendship. I ask about their day, I ask how they’re doing, what changes are they making, how they’re coping with the next bout of <weather>, and I make the right expressions to leave them feeling heard about their triumphs and their sorrows. It’s more nice than it is good. It’s deeply impersonal. I helped move the things that needed moving and watched out for the packages and didn’t leave a mess that they’d have to clean up. But Scott and Ellie and Shadow and Eileen and Ivailo and… they don’t really know me and I don’t know them. They have just experienced the other end of the skill of getting people to feel I like them.

Friendship is a labor of “you are so important to me that I must have your happiness in my life”. I know my friends enough not to be nice to them all the time but, more importantly, to not be nice to others when my friends are in need. There’s nothing abstract or universalist about it, it is necessarily and essentially particular because they are mine, my particular people, and we are bound together by shared history and understanding and sentiment. They are more to me than others and I cannot give in general the depth of feeling or of effort that I make for them.

Deep friendship requires an exclusivity that is difficult for one with a big heart.

When I was a child, I believed like many children do that it is very easy to be a good person. To me, being a good person just meant being scrupulous about following a set of known rules. “It’s simple, if someone asked me to kill somebody then I just would refuse - even if they killed me for it” is pretty close to an actual quote and certainly representative of what I thought goodness demanded. At some point the image of a literal heart cast from gold became my mental metaphor for this morality of knowing the code and sticking to it no matter the cost. We can talk about what role religion had in delivering me the metaphor but for now I want you to take a second to think about how little nuance this model allowed. The rules are universalist, they come from outside and are immutable and your moral worth is bound up only in how well you perform them.

As a guide, it could not last and eventually, as I grew from a young child to a slightly less young child, I experienced a crisis. Without room for the particular and the personal, there was no room for either a natural selfish self-expression or for the investments in true friendship. One starts to realize the fundamental cowardice of only reflecting back into the world what you think it requires and failing to creatively generate any offering of oneself as a gift. The metaphor was falling apart and I imagined it as the heart of gold developing cracks that revealed the living flesh underneath, still weak as a hatching chick but clearly growing past its incubator. Rather than kintsugi over the cracks with more gold, I decided at the time that this was maturity and that true courage in the moment required that I leave my heart exposed. That is, that being open about what is uniquely valuable to you is laudable and moral behavior can flow from the expression of personal interest in people or pursuits. The golden chunks around the cracks are necessary still as guides (and therefore armor) but hardly sufficient to contain the entire complexity of a human life.

I haven’t thought about this in years as I’ve moved far beyond the earth shattering revelations of an unusually serious childhood. It’s just that recently I’ve been chewing over the unusual conflation of incompetence, innocence, and blamelessness that see being sought as a virtue rather than an grace of competence I would think is required to actually make manifest any goodness. And I don’t know, perhaps it was thinking on “Mineshaft II” again, but it occurs to me that my heart is well enough developed now as a muscle that any bits of golden heart eggshell that remain aren’t serving as shield anymore, that such that remains is only shrapnel and just as prone to infection as the muscle tries to grow into its place. That there’s nothing laudable about excusing weakness by pointing to one’s history and saying “but I followed the rules”. I believe I’m strong enough now to say rather that I sought to create goodness as best I understood, on my own authority and analysis. 

“I didn’t expect you to have so many emotions” - the sentence resonates with me. People find me calming because I am not effusive and they appreciate the lack of volatility when in otherwise stressful environments. But they’d be wrong to mistake me for some automaton with a golden heart. Where I’ve received well meaning compliments to such effect I’m saddened that they cannot see just how far I’ve grown beyond that conceit. Goodness is accomplished in applying competence to the particular and friendship is a richer vein by far than cold beneficence.

[themascarasnakeuniverse]

Being a “writer.”

Since I was in my early teens I have wanted to be a writer. I just liked the idea of it. I was under the impression that they where rich, people listened to them and they could just sit in a bookshelf lined study and work alone, unhindered and in their own time. I can pinpoint when the desire began. I was experiencing what I know understand to be psychological bullying at school. I talked about my interests and what I was “obsessed” with a lot. At that time it was certain TV shows. My fellow pupils began to tease me about spending too much time in front of the good old idiot box. Anything was an excuse to mention it. If I had not attained a good enough mark at a certain piece of work it was because I was too busy watching TV and did not study. If I could not catch them when we played “tick” (tag or tig depending on what part of the world you live) it was because I spent too much time sat in front of the telly and was unfit. If I had not watched TV on a certain I would make sure to mention it the day after, most of the time I was ignored. The teasing continued when it suited them. One of my peers had a shelf full of videos that where unsuitable for a boy his age but that did not stop him asserting I consumed too much media.

This affected me more than it should and I internalised the opinion that I was overly inclined to spend time in front of a screen. I went to the library with the intention of withdrawing an adult book. Something I could read instead of turning on the TV of an evening. As I did not know anything about books or authors I was at a loss as to what to get. Had I asked for help the librarian would have directed me towards the age appropriate books. I did not want that. I spent a good while looking blankly art the shelves. Then I saw them. The books of Stephen King. I knew the name. I knew his books contained swearing. I knew I was not allowed to watch movies based on his work. But my parents could not stop me getting a book from the library. I chose “It” because that was the bulkiest tome available with his name on it. “I could miss a LOT of TV because of this book” I thought as I handed it to the librarian. Part of me was expecting her to stop me taking it home. But that did not happen. I put it in the bag I had with me and rode home on my Raleigh Flyer with the buckled wheel.

It took me a good three months to finish “It” and I can remember little of it now. That and many other books by the esteemed Mr King are on my to read and re-read list. As I worked my way through the adventures of “the losers club” from Derry, Maine I began to form an opinion. Stephen King was rich, if I got that rich I’d never have too see my tormentors again. I bet nobody got on Mr Kings case for watching too much TV. I though that if I became a successful novelist I could do what I wanted and everything else would fall in to place. Also, people listened to and respected someone who had written a book.

Perhaps I should have pursued English when I went to college. But I had to resit GCSEs in order to progress to A-Levels. I did not have to resit English Language or English Literature. By the time I had completed these resits I had decided not to go for A-Levels and chose a vocational cause for the next two years. Perhaps had I studied English at A-Level things may have taken a different path. I abandoned my plan to write professionally in every way except in my dreams and daydreams.

As I sit here as a cynical adult I have a very different outlook. I still love the idea of being a solitary writer, having a study and closing the door on the world whilst I compose a masterpiece. However I am aware that writers have to do things like promotion and book tours. They have to please an editor. They have to write what is popular and likely to sell. I am also aware that many fantastic writers produce amazing books for small presses and still have to keep a day job whilst Dan Brown can write utter bollocks and the money flows in because tomes sell to millions of idiots who would not know a good book if it kicked them between the legs.

I have also learned that writing is not easy. It takes time and mental energy and rejection is heartbreaking. Yet I cannot give up the romantic notion that writing would bean ideal life and would make me happy. Many writers tell me that poor mental health is almost guaranteed. And I still hang onto the belief that it would be an ideal career for me. And I still look at creative writing textbooks on the shelves of the library and thing “I should get those, shut myself off and work my way through them.” I never do.

As I sit here in a cafe in my home city that was a famous haunt for actors, writers, musicians and creatives around forty odd years ago I realise my ideas are at best misplaced. I do NOT need a retreat. I need to shit or get off the pot. I need to get on with it. More resources are available to me than where to that thirteen year old with bad friends who took things to heart. I can pirate textbooks. I can look at YouTube videos about famous writers and take advice from a million other enthusiastic amateurs. I have just had to look up a correct spelling on Google. That was not available to me when I held that copy of “It” in my teenaged hands and thought “I will do this myself one day.”

[minimomoe]

How to Train your Demon

Pairing: trueform! Sukuna x Fem Reader

Summary: Life has all kinds of wins and losses. You don't know which category to put your new demon husband in though.

Tags: MDNI!, red string of fate trope, true form sukuna, librarian reader, soul mates, reincarnation, accidental summoning, love at first sight (but it's one-sided (until it's not)), Sukuna is demon, but he's v much in love, smut and stuff eventually i guess....

Part: I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X.

Rule no. 3: Remember to feed him

Absolutely no killing people or non attacking animals.

Do not open the front or back door.

Do not stand near any open doors or windows.

Do not go into the kitchen.

Do not sleep on the bed.

Those were the rules you had in place for Sukuna. He despised every single one of them. He didn’t know this new world would be this unentertaining. You talked of police or scientists coming to take him if he was found out. He was touched at your little ways of protecting him, but he simply could not be separated from you if he did not want to be. He decided to heed your warnings anyway. Sukuna had more pressing matters to deal with. 

You weren’t unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him. 

Instead of your eyes lighting up when he walked into the same room you did, you scowled. He trailed behind you as you did your chores around the house and it only made him angry. You were supposed to have servants who cooked and cleaned for you, yet you did it all yourself. The one time he tried to help, he pried the toilet seat off and you banned him from entering the bathroom for the rest of the day. 

You didn’t give him any chances to prove that you have met before, nor show his love to you. Sukuna could feel the turmoil that was going on in your mind. The string that connected you to him would often grow tight as if it was ready to snap. You did not need to be so worried, he was never going to be a threat to you. He was no longer a king, you were no longer a queen, and there was nobody who was interested in his return. The only person who looked at him with any excitement was the little one named Cleo. It constantly sought him out, rubbing its head on his leg and arms. He has grown fond of this particular pet. 

At dusk you finally called out for Sukuna and he appeared by your side. You jumped when he put your hand on your shoulder. You pulled him off then asked if he could sit down at the dining table with him. 

Sukuna could hear words coming out of your mouth, the sounds of your melodic voice floated through the air, but he could not focus. You were gorgeous, the most stunning being to have ever graced the earth. Your hair was full of life, your curls moving every time you did. The slope of your nose and cheeks and jaw were as soft as ever. You wore minimal clothing, pants that stopped at the top of your thighs and a thin top that hugged your breasts. And your lips. Those lips that cradled his name. He hasn’t received a kiss from you in centuries. He was lost in a trance admiring your beauty. 

“Do you understand, Sukuna? I just want to make this easy for us.”

“Consider it done,” he agreed without the faintest idea of what you were talking about. Still you smiled. You smiled at him and he wanted to freeze time for this moment. You pointed at a plate at the dining table with an apologetic face. 

“I don’t know if I have given you anything to eat since I brought you here. The only Japanese food I know how to make is chicken katsu and ramen, but I don’t eat meat anymore and I’m out of ramen. I made baked salmon, sweet potatoes, and asparagus instead.” 

Sukuna looked at the strange array of colorful food on his plate. He looked at the silver fork by the place and gingerly picked it up.

“Oh I have chopsticks if that’s easier for you,” you said, already getting up to get them before he could tell you it wasn’t needed. 

Sukuna watched miles of exposed brown skin run past while you wore those tiny pants of yours. You found silver chopsticks, took the fork out of his hand to replace it, and sat back down. You looked at Sukuna expectedly to eat. Then your face fell in realization. 

“You probably don’t eat this type of stuff. Do you need blood or something?” 

Sukuna’s diet consists of human bodies. If he told you that, it would be a direct violation of rule number one since he hated to eat people who have been lying out for days or even hours. Decomposition worked rather quickly and ruined the taste. 

He could tell you that, and watch you shrink away in horror, or he could eat your kind of food. He chose your food, grabbing the one you called sweet potato with the chopsticks and shoving it in his mouth. 

Cleo slipped into your lap and you both awaited Sukuna’s judgment. It was as soft as infant food, tasted of sugar, and gone in a flash. He ate another, and another, and another till his mouth was stuffed. 

“I guess that means you like it?” You laughed. Sukuna nodded vigorously. “Go ahead and try the fish.”

Sukuna picked up the entire cut to ear. It melted on his tongue, the tender salmon juicy and well balanced flavors coated his mouth. He looked at your plate with longing and you gladly gave it up to him. Once again it was devoured with zero finesse. All Sukuna knew was that your food was delectable and he needed more. It was better than any limb he could’ve torn off of a body. He eyed the asparagus with some caution however, not enthusiastic to eat something so… green. 

“What is the name of this?” “Asparagus,” you said cheerily. “It’s one of my favorite vegetables. Did you know that it just grows out of the ground like that? They’re like little spears sprouting from the earth.” 

You found beauty in everything. You spoke of it tenderly so he must enjoy the vegetable. That is what he told himself, but the second his teeth crushed the stem he grimaced. There was nothing pleasant about the taste. He found it quite offensive and the stringy texture further contorted his face to disgust. 

“You don’t have to eat if you don’t like it!” 

Sukuna waved you off, swallowing the bite he had in his mouth and clearing his throat. “That was not as pleasant as the others. However, I will not waste it.” 

“Don’t worry abo–” Your words trailed off when you watched Sukuna scoop the rest of the asparagus in his plate to his tummy mouth that eagerly awaited food. It messily chomped the vegetables and licked its lips clean. You pressed your lips together to hide your uneasiness. 

“You feed your… stomach all the things you don’t want to eat?”

“Occasionally.”

“How lovely,” you said. Nausea was getting the better of you but curiosity always prevailed. “Can it talk?” 

Both you and Sukuna looked down at his abdomen. You held your breath when the lips parted, tilting closer to Sukuna’s body. “Gi–give me moooore,” it groaned, and you immediately snapped away. It went back to its resting grinning expression and there has never been a deeper frown on your face than in that moment. 

“I really don’t like that your tummy can do that. How is it able to speak? Actually– I don’t think I want to know.” You gave his stomach one last wary look and shivered, moving onto a different topic. “I know I’ve been hard on you today but it’s only because I’m trying to understand our ‘relationship’ and how to move forward. I don’t want to keep you cooped up in the house but asking if you want to sit outside with me sounds like I’m treating you like a dog.”

“I want to sit outside with you,” he said quickly. Your lips curled up at his words. “And that’s another thing. I don’t know if you’re naturally like that or if you’re under some spell. You say we’re soulmates but that doesn’t mean you go along with all of my whims. What are you really like, and why were you locked in that book, Sukuna?”

Sukuna relaxed into his chair. Of course you wouldn’t want someone so compliant. That is not how he won your heart before, and it wouldn’t work this time around either. He remembers the night he met you so vividly. He was actually on the way to kill your entire village, offering the people a chance to defend themselves by sending their strongest warrior forth. What he wasn’t expecting was you to be brought out with a sack over your head, a prisoner with nothing to lose. 

When revealed there was a glint in your eyes, not one of fear but excitement, like you were aching to let loose and finally given the chance. They brought you out to him to the outskirts of the village with all inhabitants fleeing west to mountains, their whole lives on their back and you were the only one left behind. It was the smartest choice, as the village was flattened by the end of your fight, but Sukuna had enjoyed every minute of it and so had you. It was truly a battle of strength, intelligence, and endurance, which you excelled Sukuna’s expectations in every category. That’s when he realized to kill you would mean to lose the greatest partner to ever match him in abilities. You and him were knives that sharpen each other, and at some point the admiration turned to love. 

The relationship only worked because you both desired each other while remaining headstrong. Times have changed greatly since he has been chained to the pages you released him from, and your new lifestyle didn’t require brutality anymore, but the essence of your history remained the same. Sukuna could support you, he was expected to, but challenging you was part of the fun. 

“There are things that I have done in past lives that are now demanding their pound of flesh. Despite it all, you have landed in my sights once again. I was trying to be considerate, not spineless. I could very well destroy this home along with all the others with a flick of my hand if I wished to.” 

“I knew something was up,” you chuckled. “I should thank you for not sending us all to an early grave but something tells me you're unable to do that. At least, for right now..” 

Nothing could slip past your perceptive senses. Sukuna’s powers were limited as long as that book was intact. He could ask for your help to free him, or he could devise a way to free himself. Before he could answer he watched you and Cleo hopped off of your lap to scurry somewhere else. You walked to the door that led to your backyard, waving Sukuna over to follow you. He wondered why you were permitting him to leave the safety net of the inside when he saw that it was no longer bright outside. The last streaks of sunlight were dying behind the trees which left the area in near total darkness. What saved it was the lights coming from your own home. 

Two cushioned seats laid under the light. You sat at one and Sukuna took the other. It freaked under his weight but supported him. You were only a few feet away from him, your face peaceful as you stared up at the sky. The moon painted a milky blue film on your visage that Sukuna adored in his head. 

“From what I’ve gathered, the me you know is someone who is— was powerful and a little evil. A perfect match for you. I’m nothing of the sort anymore,” you lamented. “I’m not really sure what to do. I need to get my hands on that book before I can do anything else.”

“Don’t look down at yourself so lightly,” Sukuna said firmly. “Your powers lay dormant because you have no use for them.”

You cocked your head at him. “I’m not some powerful witch if that’s what you’re implying.” 

Sukuna shook his head. You couldn’t understand the magnitude of your strength, but perhaps that’s why he’s here now. You have forgotten who you are and it’s his duty to bring you back to yourself.

“Honestly, I’m in way over my head with you. There’s only one person I know that won’t freak out about this. I just hope he can come tomorrow.”

Sukuna’s eyes hardened at the sound of another man. A man you seemingly trusted more than him as you muttered plans to accommodate them. 

Sukuna promised not to kill a person, but nothing was against scaring them to the point they never came around you again. He just needed to take a bite.

Thanks for reading loves!! lemme know what ya think xx

Part: I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X.

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