#this is what i get for insisting i put links to everything in this post

[cleolinda]

AITA for banning my husband and father in law from the delivery room due to their intensely stressful/creepy behavior during my pregnancy?

There’s a famous Reddit post from 2020 where a pregnant woman wrote that her husband and father-in-law were a little too comfortable with their certainty that she was absolutely going to die in childbirth just like her husband’s late mother. It was to the point where her FIL was insisting that she go ahead and put all her clothes into storage, because she was obviously going to die in the hospital and it would save them the grief of packing up her things afterwards. Like. It was WILD.

When I tell my husband [that she feels suspicious of her FIL], he calls me paranoid, but I feel like my FIL WANTS me to die; his whole life identity for the past 35 years has been “amazing single dad” (never dated or had close friends or even hobbies really), and it seems like he’s looking forward to being able to guide my husband through what he went through. At this point, I’d honestly be happy to never see my FIL again, and I certainly don’t want him in the delivery room, especially since he told me he was “putting [his] foot down” about me not being “allowed” to have an epidural…. My husband, in addition to backing his dad on everything, acts like my due date is my death date, and has completely pulled away from me.

The commenters (and me, honestly) were convinced that the husband and FIL were either going to kill her outright to fulfill this expectation, or just make decisions about her care that might conveniently let her die.

And then she never posted again.

Over the last four years, people have frequently mentioned that post, always leading to a thread of people saying, “Oh god, I still worry about that woman.” I did too. It became one of those famous unresolved posts that people always wondered about.

Until yesterday, when someone on r/BestOfRedditorUpdates dug up a 2022 update she had posted on a different account:

TLDR; I had a beautiful and healthy baby girl, and I divorced my ex-husband. I lived, obviously.

She writes that she put her foot down about having her own mother in the delivery room rather than her FIL (!), and she WOULD be getting an epidural. Her husband lost his shit. And in his outburst, he let slip--

I admittedly lost my temper, and told him that I wasn’t going to die- it wasn’t my fault his father’s trauma wormed it’s way into his head, and that he needed to fix it without taking it out on me. He yelled at me that he didn’t need therapy. That caught me a little off guard; I asked him why he went to his therapist and was given advice about my death if he felt he didn’t need it. His expression gave it away, and he caved not long after. It turns out there was no therapist. It was just his dad. During the times he was supposed to be at therapy, he was with his dad. I’m still fuming.

And that was when she got the fuck out.

I’ll wrap this up- I’ve got an adorable little toddler tugging at my leg atm. I’m alive, I’m happy, and I’ve got my baby in my arms. Life is good.

I truly never thought we'd see a resolution to this, and I feel like there's probably a good number of people who remember it, so I thought you might want to know.

ETA: Brilliantly, I put the link in at the top; here it is again for convenience.

[scallioncreamcheesebagel]

hilarious drama going on on reddit, the least respectable social media site i use. someone goes to r/legaladvice with a question about a shitty interaction with a cop. pretty normal post.

some users replied with regular advice, but one r/legaladvice moderator came in saying it was OP's fault, defending the cop. when OP requested they "please read the post", they equipped their next reply with their little mod hat and told them that showing attitude would result in a ban.

after receiving hundreds of downvotes (and many replies, all of which were removed and banned), the r/legaladvice mod nuked the thread in a fit of anger.

so you'd think it'd stop there, right? well, that's where you're wrong.

there's another subreddit called r/bestoflegaladvice, where the more interesting r/legaladvice threads are reposted for audiences to take the piss out of. and of course, a mod throwing a tantrum and nuking a thread because they were asked to read would make that cut. so it was reposted! and of course, everyone started rightfully calling the mod a bootlicker.

people then started pointing out that the r/legaladvice mod team has cops on it, at which point, part two of the drama starts: some people are mods of both r/legaladvice AND r/bestoflegaladvice, and they get really mad when you call them cops (derogatory).

so of course, they take the best course of action, which is to angrily reply to comments calling them cops and then use mod powers to delete the comments they don't like, insisting that only ONE r/legaladvice mod is a cop, so it's totally fine!

the r/bestoflegaladvice thread was then deleted and locked by mods, presumably for "republicizing deleted comments".

the same thread was then reposted to r/bestoflegaladvice. again, the thread fills with people calling the r/legaladvice mods cops.

this thread was also deleted and locked by r/bestoflegaladvice mods.

but it doesn't end there! because there's ANOTHER subreddit called r/subredditdrama, where the juiciest drama from all manner of subreddits gets reposted. and you'll never believe what's gone on long enough to count as drama.

here, free from the shackles of reddit's legaladvice world, users were free to dunk on the mods as much as they want.

the r/subredditdrama thread was eventually deleted as well (but not locked) just because they don't accept links to nuked threads since the original can't be read, but thankfully, everything had been archived by that point.

and just because the streisand effect should never go unrealized, i'm reposting it here, to tumblr. who knows, maybe someone will bother to screencap this and put it on r/curatedtumblr, and it will eventually live on in reddit again.

as for OP, they reposted their situation to r/nostupidquestions and later posted this update:

moral of the story: never go to reddit for legal advice, because the legal advice subreddit is run by ONE cop.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

butterflygirl738 (3)

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, power imbalance, sickness, medical bills, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You love butterflies and your mother, but life isn’t that simple. As life gets complicated, and expensive, you find yourself in need and an unexpected miracle presents itself.

Characters: Steve Rogers (CEO/Sugar Daddy)

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You stand behind the dumpster. Frozen. The world stacks on your chest. The bills, the doctors, your managers, the butterflies... Everything, from big to small. All of it feels insurmountable. You don’t think you can go on much longer. Not like this. Not on your own.

This is something. Help. Are you too hopeful? Too desperate? So what if you are. This isn’t about your life, it’s about your mom’s.

How many nights have you laid away dreaming of an easy out. Of any crumb of help. Of some sort of relief. This might not be it but you can’t just wave it away.

You click the link. It prompts you to install WhatsApp. You pace in circles as you wait for the pubic wi-fi to download the app. When that’s done, you��re redirected to add a contact; ‘S’. Hm. Mysterious.

You accept and a message blips up.

‘Can I call?’

Your heart jumps. You’re doing this. Doing what? It’s a call. You shake your head and send a thumbs up. Stop shaking.

The call pops up, chiming from the speakers. You fumble and answer, mindless noises squeaking from your throat. You steady the phone and peek out around the bins. Another car draws up to the window.

“Hello? Everything okay?” The deep voice startles you.

You grip the cell and clear your throat, “sorry, I... I never used this before.”

“Hm, that’s alright,” he assures. His timbre is calm and even. That’s so soothing.

“Uh, hi?” You say awkwardly and retreat to hide again. “Um...”

Silence radiates from the speaker. He sniffs.

“Um, how are the butterflies?” He asks.

You blink and look back and forth. “My butterflies?”

“Sure, they come out yet?”

“Oh, uh... no...”

You chew your lip. He doesn’t sound like your typical watcher. You get those aesthetic blogs with girly moodboards or crafting how-tos. He’s a man. And he sounds older. Not old, just older than you.

“Right,” he takes a deep breath. “Look, I’m thinking right now and I don’t think this is something we should talk about over the phone.”

“Huh? Oh?” You sputter in confusion. “Sure. Erm. Thank you.” You put your hand to your chest. “You’re very generous but if you changed your mind--"

“No, I haven’t,” he says firmly. “What I want to say I would like to say to you. In person.”

You laugh, more out of surprise than amusement. “Well, uh, that’s... no, I don’t know. I live... in the middle of nowhere. That’s not possible.”

“I’ll come to you.” He insists.

You stop shuffling around and hum. He’s quiet as you think. Obviously, it’s not smart to meet strangers on the internet.

“You pick the place. Neutral ground.” He suggests.

“Well, you know, I have two jobs and I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” You wiggle your nose awkwardly and cringe. “I should really give you that money back.”

“Keep it.” He says. “I’m willing to negotiate. I’ll give you access to my location so you know where I am. Everything’s on the up and up.”

“Oh, oh,” you eke out nervously. Your mom would be screaming at you. What did I tell you about the internet? But that was when you were young. Just a teenager. You’re an adult now.

“There’s another ten on the table if you just talk.” He offers.

You nearly trip. You let out and oop and catch yourself on the dumpster. The smell of the contents adds to the roiling of your stomach.

“Ten?” You murmur.

“Ten grand.”

“How-- oh, that’s a lot of money.”

“I’d pay more.”

That statement takes your breath away. You look down at your beaten up sneakers. You ground your heel into the ground.

“But why?”

“Like I said, I want to discuss it face-to-face,” he says. “It doesn’t feel right like this so... you send me the location where you want to meet. Send me a date and time. And check the chat.”

“Pardon?” You utter.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he says abruptly as something scuffs on his end. “I gotta go.”

He hangs up. You stand stunned in silence. You pull the phone away from your face and look down at the screen. Another link. You tap it without a second thought. Shoot, you probably shouldn’t have.

The browser opens a page; a notice at the bottom that says the app work better. Just another thing to download. Above the banner is a map and a flashing dot. You squint and zoom in.

Your brow furrows. You make a goofy face and scoff. New York? Oh wow.

You quickly exit out of all the windows and put your phone away. You inhale and let it out slow. You slink out from behind the dumpsters and head towards home. You’ll take your time and think. You always enjoyed a nice walk, especially when your mom came along.

🦋

“Whatcha thinking of, pie?” Your mom asks suddenly.

You lift your head and open your eyes. You barely remember sitting down. Even just getting home. After back-to-back shifts, you’re worn out. You feel like a sheet hanging in the sun. Each day that hollowness grows.

“Oh, nothing,” you lie. You think of the only thing you’ve been able to think of for the last day.

She nods but you can see she doesn’t buy it. You shrug and clasp your hands together. “Just work. They’re cutting back on labour for the summer.”

“That’s too bad,” she says. “I’m sure you’ll still get hours.”

But not enough...

“I put out an application at the computer reseller,” you say. “But he didn’t seem very impressed. Maybe the coffee place? Couple hours in the morning.”

“Oh, honey,” your mom frowns. “You need a break. You’re always working.”

“I’m fine, mom,” you say.

No, you’re tired. You’re exhausted to the bone and yet when you lay down at night, you can’t sleep. All you can do is lay there and think about doom. About how it’ll be your fault when she dies.

You stand up suddenly at that thought. You try not to let it in. You shudder and cross the room.

“Pie?” Her voice piques with alarm.

“Sorry, mom, I don’t know... I just... I feel like I forgot something,” you shake off the tension. Or try to.

“Ha, I know that feeling,” she says. “While you’re up...”

“Tea?” You offer. She nods. “Alright.”

You go into the kitchen. You flip on the electric kettle and grip the edge of the counter. You lean on it and hang your head. You suck back a wave of tears. You will never forgive yourself if you don’t do everything you possibly can to save her.

You wait until the click. You pour hot water over the ginger and lemon tea bag and take it out to your mom. “It’s hot.” You put it on a coaster. “I remembered what I forgot.”

“Oh?” She wonders.

“I didn’t talk to the building manager about the water. The bathroom sink is still spitting out rust.”

“Ah, right,” she nods.

“I won’t be long,” you say. “I’m just going to fill out a form and leave it in the slot.”

“Be safe,” she calls after you.

You swipe up your phone and hurry to the door. As you step into the hall, guilt scalds around your neck. You don’t lie to your mom. Ever. She doesn’t need anything else to worry about.

You head downstairs. It’s not really a lie if you make it true. You grab one of the forms from the building office and take it with you outside. You fold it up and tuck it in your pocket. You’ll put it in tomorrow morning before work.

You follow your phone signal down the street. Finally, a network pops up. The overpriced knick knack boutique has free wi-fi, who would have guessed?

Self-awareness sets in. You look around the dark streets. You open up WhatsApp. You think, biting the tip of your tongue as you do.

It has to be somewhere far from home but not too far that you can’t get there. And it has to be between the appointments and work. Ugh. Okay. You got it.

You type in the place and time. A week isn’t too soon? He’s probably busy. He sounds important. You can only guess. You don’t know anything about him. That’s a sobering realisation but you already hit send.

The reply chimes loudly in the quiet night. That’s quick.

‘I’ll be there.’

Simple. To the point. A complete answer that answers nothing at all. What are you doing?

🦋

You place the coffee on the table and sit. You stare at the dark brew. It’s the cheapest size and roast, but that flicker of guilt remains. You could use that two bucks for something better. Even after that generous donation, you’re still in the red.

You check your phone quickly. The last message was about an hour ago. ‘We’re still good?’ and you confirmed. ‘See ya then’.

You cross one foot over the other, your toe wiggling anxiously. You watch the brim of the cup. You put your phone next to it and look out the window. A woman passes by with her stroller and another child dancing around at her side. You smile.

You sit back and check the clock above the counter. Each number is a coffee bean. It’s cute.

The place is busy. The door jingles between the voices of customers and employees. The grind of the machines and puffs of steams are near constant.

You chose the place deliberately. Partly out of embarrassment. You didn’t want to meet him at a chain place. You thought he might judge you for that. Well, you are begging for money online. It doesn’t really matter.

You put your hands on the side of the mug. The warmth does not comfort you. Your stomach is tangling in on itself. You should have got tea. You don’t know if you can handle caffeine right now.

The clock ticks past the hour. He’s late. That’s alright. He doesn’t know the town. He could be lost. You could check his location... no, you haven't dared to do that. It feels like a violation.

Or this could all be a cruel joke. You cringe. Did you just waste your own time?

It’s only two minutes.

A kid jostles by your table and your chair jerks as their toe catches. They sprawl over the floor and their mother shrieks their name. You get up and kneel by the lanky third grader.

“Woah, you okay?” You ask as he sits up and rubs his elbow.

“Oweee,” he grimaces.

“Are you bleeding?”

“No,” he pouts. “I’m okay.”

“Here,” you offer your hand.

You help him up. His mom comes over in a huff. “Liam!”

“He’s okay,” you say. “Just a bruise.”

“Oh, thanks. I’m so sorry about him.” She sends him the mom eyes.

“It’s fine. He’s just a kid.”

She harrumphs and grabs Liam by the arm, “come on. You can wait to have your cookie.”

You back up and turn to the table. Your coffee sloshed in the chaos and a puddle surrounds the base. You go to grab napkins from the counter. As you mop up the mess, a chair scrapes. You look up as a blond man stands. He picks up the tall mug and heads in your direction.

“Here,” he opens his hand as he approaches. “I’ll throw that out for you.”

You stare at him in confusion. You recognise his voice. You hand over the wadded napkin dumbly and gape. He brushes by and goes to toss the bunched tissue.

He returns and gestures to your seat. You sit and he puts his cup across from yours. “You need a refill?”

You shake your head. He sits and pushes his shoulders wide. You watch him. You remember him coming in. He’s hard to miss. Tall, broad shoulders, neat hair, and a pair of dark aviators. He wears jeans and a sage linen button-up.

“I’m sorry,” he begins. “I was watching you.” He looks around. “Can never be too sure who you meet on the internet.”

You nod. “Wait... how do you know it’s me?”

He looks down and points at your wrist. “You wore that in a video. You were showing of that monarch and I remember the bracelet.”

You look at the charm dangling from your wrist. You blink.

“Right,” you say.

“You know, most people wouldn’t have been so helpful with that kid.” He says.

“Oh, uh, stuff happens. No one was hurt,” you shrug and twine your fingers together. “Um...”

“So...” he fills the void. “Do I call you butterflygirl738 or do you prefer something else?”

You give a tight-lipped smile. You’re here. He’s here. No going back now.

[galacticlarry]

🌟2024 FIC RECS🌟

Here's a list of fics I read in loved in 2024. I read 208 fics this year, and, although I really struggle with choosing favourites, these are a few of them. I tried to limit it to one fic (or series) per author to avoid this list being the same people over and over.

🌟 Nest To You by Neondiamond / @neondiamond (T, 14.9k)

Everybody knows it’s in an Omega’s nature to nest, and Harry is no different. From the very first nest he builds to comfort himself when feeling homesick to the nest he one day brings his new pups home to, his Alpha Louis is there to witness it all.

Or: Ten different nests Harry builds throughout his relationship with Louis.

This one was adorable. Truly one of the cutest fics I've read.

🌟 Heels Over Head by kingsofeverything / @kingsofeverything (E, 3.4k)

Louis Tomlinson returns from tour to find that his new next door neighbor doesn't realize his backyard is not completely private.

This one was so funny and I kept giggling the entire time I was reading it.

🌟 Just Another Card Again by tippitytap / @tippitytap (G, 3.7k)

Dear reader,

this is a story of Harry and Louis falling in love through greeting cards and being neighbours.

With love,

Clifford

This one is so so so cute! I love the concept, and the links to all of the cards they used is such a perfect detail. I am absolutely obsessed!

🌟 When the idea of someone is often wrong, write fanfiction to fix-it by INnenaHeart / @thechavier (M, 2.2k)

"Haz? Are you… are you writing porn?"

Harry typed for a while longer, and when he put the last comma, he raised his head and looked Louis in the eyes, as serious as Louis had ever seen him.

"No Lou, I'm writing August Moon fanfiction."

"Which is basically porn."

"No, it's f-a-n-f-i-c-t-i-on."

"You say fanfiction babe, and all I hear is p-o-r-n."

Harry sighed.

"Yeah, ok, it's porn. It got plot though… and feelings!"

or Harry can't do much about movies being made about him or the idea people have of him, so he writes fanfictions in his spare time.

This one is really funny and surprisingly sweet.

🌟 Larry Holiday Series by Specksofgold (E, 13.8k)

A collection of five fics, all taking place during different holidays.

This was such a cool concept and I admire the dedication to the theme. I also loved getting to see their relationship evolve as time passed.

🌟 Hiding Green Smiles by HoldingOnToChaos / @holdingontochaos (E, 45k)

Louis’ heart is racing in his chest. The idea of temporary bonding—letting Harry bite down right on that spot without it being a real bond—makes his mouth go dry. He didn’t even know something like this existed! His mind fills with all the possibilities and questions. What’s it going to feel like? How will it affect his orgasms? How will it affect Harry’s knot? What parts of a bond does it simulate?

When Louis goes with Liam to a hidden sex shop, he discovers a new sex toy, the BiteMat, and he can't believe his luck. He loves being bitten, has a biting kink, even, and now he can be bitten over his bonding spot without the fear of anything permanent.

He hastily buys it to try with Harry, his friend and roommate, and his regular heat/rut partner for the last eighteen months. They've been friends-with-benefits outside heat or rut for eight months now, and Louis' been desperately in love with Harry for at least five of those months.

--

Or the BiteMat fic

Everything Lora has posted this year has been absolutely phenomenal and choosing one was REALLY difficult, but I ended up going with this one, because it was the first one I read and I'm kind of attached to it. I love how cute and caring they are, but MY GOD are they stupid! I could genuinely talk about this fic for hours (I'm sure I have) but I have to keep this somewhat short. And, again, the urge to include all of Lora's fics in this list is strong, but I shall resist it (go read them anyway).

🌟 I’ll tell you something (I hope you’ll understand) by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright (E, 2.7k)

Louis insists that Harry stay off her phone and in the safety of Louis' room rather than risk moping in her own, texting her ex-boyfriend. When Harry agrees on one condition, Louis' safe night in could become something else entirely.

This one is so good, and cute, and sweet, and I just love it! I'm a sucker for a bit of yearning.

🌟 the "Falling" series by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed (T, 4k)

A collection of two fics taking place after Harry and Louis break up.

These are painful and beautiful and everything in between and I love them a lot.

🌟 The Coach Tommo Universe by enchantedlandcoffee / @enchantedlandcoffee (E, 9k)

A collection of seven fics where Harry is a single parent to his twin girls Megsie and Becky, and Louis is the little league coach of the team Becky plays for.

These are so so sweet. I love their dynamic and their cute little family.

🌟 Colorful Hearts by Larrysmomfics / @larrysmomfics (M, 20k)

In a world where orgasmic emissions change color depending on the person’s mood, Louis Tomlinson’s semen has only ever been blue. At the recommendation of his doctor he attends a support group for people with similar conditions. The leader of Colorful Hearts, a therapist named Harry, is positively swoonworthy and sets Louis at ease right away. Needless to say that Louis isn’t aware yet that so much more than the color of his spunk is about to change.

OR

The Rainbow jizz fic, a mood ring orgasms AU

This one is so incredibly silly (which I'm sure anyone could guess from the summary alone), but it's also so soft and sweet and I just love it a lot!

🌟 put a little love on me by CuckooTrooke / @larrydoinglaundry (E, 29k)

Two people who are always taking care of someone else’s needs while ignoring their own, just happen to cross paths.

Such a sweet fic!

🌟 Not the Desperate Type by lululawrence / @lululawrence (NR, 6.3k)

“First of all, I’d like to tell you how disturbing it is that you’re this familiar with your neighbor’s sex life,” Liam said, amusement lacing his tone.

“Fuck off,” Louis said, laughing.

“Second, that is really very sad. How bad is the stomping? Are you sure your neighbor doesn’t like it fast like that?”

“With the amount of cleaning the guy does, I think he’s taking out his sexual frustration on the cleanliness of his apartment. I can’t imagine the guy makes enough mess to require daily vacuuming.”

It sounded like the guy was actually moving furniture above him as he was sweeping now. Damn. Did Louis miss the seven minutes in heaven or was the guy angry because he didn’t even get that much pleasure today?

“I’m kinda afraid with the amount of noise he produces while cleaning that one day I’m gonna look up through my ceiling and be able to see him.”

“Tell him we wish him a better sex life and that we’re rooting for him if you do.”

Or the one where Louis' neighbor has a series of unfortunately short sexual experiences and Louis can hear every. Single. One.

This one was so silly and funny. I loved it!

🌟 Eyes so blue, Shorts so red by nonsensedarling / @absoloutenonsense (G, 2.6k)

Harry isn't like any roommate Louis has had before. For one, he doesn't know what a poem is (or skee-ball, for that matter), but luckily for him, Louis doesn't mind answering any and all of his questions.

*

Or Alien Harry discovers poetry.

Such a lovely fic! They're just so so so cute!

🌟 speak now or forever hold your peace by wildestdreams / @thelavendrhaze (E, 23k)

“So, Louis is getting married.”

Zayn just blinked at him and gave a single nod in response to Harry’s sudden topic change.

“That’s all?” Harry asked. “That’s all you’ve got to say about it? Louis is getting married and all you do is nod your head?”

“What do you want me to say?” Zayn burst out laughing. “I didn’t realize that Louis was someone we still talked about.”

“He’s not,” Harry said firmly. “But right now --.” Harry let out a shaky breath and ran a hand through his hair. “Louis is getting married, okay? And he sent everyone an invitation -- he let everyone know -- but me.”

or the one where Harry crashes Louis’ wedding. (A Love, Rosie AU)

This one was frustrating but also very cute and funny. I really enjoyed it!

🌟 The Moon Cradles All by galastyles / @disneydimples (G, 7.1k)

When Louis was a child, his mother told him about Christmas Fairies, magical beings that would assist the Christmas efforts in the North Pole by watching every child and helping to make the final decision to whether they would be on the Nice or Naughty list. When he had a daughter of his own, he told her the same tale. At least, he always thought it was a tale.

This one is so cute and wholesome and I'm absolutely obsessed with it!

🌟 A Frail Farewell by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings (M, 44k)

Louis can’t believe his luck when he is offered one of the easiest jobs he has had as a long-term house-sitter for the wealthy. He loves the money, and the peace and quiet of the empty mansions he looks after. Most of all he likes that there are no surprises until he gets the shock of his life from ex-pop star Harry Styles who isn’t supposed to be home.

I read this as a wip and I was always looking forward to those updates. They're just so sweet and gentle with each other and I loved every second of reading this!

🌟 When the Lights Go Out by thelarenttrap / @antidotetogo (E, 79k)

“Louis, what do you have to say about how last week ended?” the reporter asks.

There’s a moment of silence. Harry is looking at the reporter, but eventually gives in and looks down the table at Louis.

He’s looking straight ahead, as if Harry isn’t even in the room.

“If you can’t take the heat, then get out of the kitchen.”

Harry leans forwards, placing his arms on the table and leaning onto them to get as close to his microphone as he can while looking at Louis.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Louis turns to him, his icy blue eyes meeting Harry's. “Driving is your fuckin’ job, act like it.”

In its near eighty years of existence, Formula 1 has never had an out gay driver. In 2017, Harry Styles signs a contract with Scuderia AlphaTauri alongside his childhood friend and competitor, Louis Tomlinson. The next decade of their careers is some of the most tumultuous press--on and off the track--Formula 1 has ever seen.

aka the one where Louis and Harry are childhood friends to enemies to lovers over the course of 15 ish years.

This one was so captivating from beginning to end, I genuinely couldn't put it down. It also managed to make me have any kind of interest in sports, so that has to count for something, right?

🌟 Cabin on the Bluff by juliusschmidt / @juliusschmidt (E, 6.7k)

A collection of three fics depicting different moments in Harry and Louis' summer romance.

These are so so so good! There's just something about getting tiny glimpses of this universe that makes it so intriguing and I want to know more.

🌟 All You Want's Under Your Nose by Wishingforloushair / @wishingforloushair (E, 3.5k)

Louis decides to treat himself to a new sex toy, but is perplexed when he sees a man in the shop placing each vibrator against the tip of his nose and sneezing. Curiosity gets the better of him, and it turns out the man, Harry, is a sex-god who knows far too much about sex toys and promises Louis that if a vibrator makes him sneeze it will definitely make him come. Of course there's only one way to find out for sure…

“Oh,” the man furrowed his brow. “It’s to test whether or not the vibrations will get me off.”

Louis stared at him. “That’s not a thing, is it?”

“Oh, yeah,” the man nodded, emphatically. “The nerves responsible for making you sneeze are the same ones responsible for making you orgasm. So when you’re buying sex toys it's always a good idea to test it to see if it will make you sneeze. Or your girlfriend. Whoever you’re using the toy on.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Louis found himself saying.

The man’s eyebrows raised for a split second. “Me either. I’m Harry,” he said, holding his hand out for Louis to take.

“Louis,” he said, taking it firmly. “I don’t think that’s real though.”

This one is really funny and the smut is great too. Loved it!

🌟 Someone You Couldn’t Lose by InsightfulInsomniac / @insightfulinsomniac (E, 19.2k)

For the past three years of university, Harry worked hard to push his romantic feelings for his best friend aside. Now that they’re in their final year of uni, his omega has other plans that slip through the hairpin cracks in his restraint.

Thankfully, Louis readily indulges his incessant and rather out of control nesting behavior. While their closeness doesn’t help Harry with his unrequited feelings, he at least knows that he’s not revealing his deepest secret to the alpha unintentionally. Louis’ genetic lack of a sense of smell allows Harry’s feelings to fly under the radar.

For now.

A uni AU where nesting behavior and a little body oil sparks a much-too-affectionate friends with benefits relationship that has some very unexpected outcomes.

This one was truly adorable.

🌟 everything of mine is yours by blueskiesrry / @blueskiesrry (E, 33k)

"Did you two have a good time?”

Harry in his bathroom, brushing his teeth with frizzy hair and tired eyes. Harry on the couch cuddled up with Posy, cradling her in the crook of his elbow, humming a soft song. Harry laughing with his friends in a pub on a Friday night, a flower field in his eyes. Harry in his bed tucked under the covers, naked against fresh sheets like a shock of moonlight cutting through a storm.

“Yeah,” he says. “We did.”

or: With Harry in New York finishing up his PhD and Louis in London working as a solicitor, they try to navigate their eight year situationship including almost-daily phone calls, the occasional indulgence of casual phone sex, and endless gossip sessions as the feelings they have for each other get harder to ignore.

This one was heartbreaking and painful and so so so beautiful! I loved every second of it and never wanted it to end.

🌟 Scarred by allwaswell16 / @allwaswell16 (E, 23k)

As a male omega, Louis has learned to live with disappointment and rejection, but he dreams of the day he finds his soulmate. When Harry inadvertently rejects him as his soulmate, Harry has no idea he's doomed Louis to a slow, painful death.

Pride doesn't keep Louis from telling Harry the truth. But love does.

This one broke my heart and then put it back together. The angst, their relationship, the friendship between all of them, just all of it really. Truly an amazing read!

🌟 we could be enough by HelloLovers13 / @hellolovers13 (M, 5k)

“You know I am flirting with you, right?”

Louis freezes mid-bite. Just manages not to choke on his steak.

Harry laughs a bit too loudly, almost like he’s nervous. “Yeah, should’ve known you weren’t the observant kind. You think I get this dressed up for a random dinner with a mate on a Tuesday night?”

or

Louis never imagined anyone could love him for who he truly is.

Then he meets Harry.

I can't get over how sweet this one is. I love that Harry is so supportive and so willing to make Louis feel comfortable and accepted. Truly, a beautiful story.

🌟 It's Not That I Don't Want You by parmahamlarrie / @parmahamlarrie (E, 12.5k)

It begins with a benign comment during a night in watching a show with his lovely boyfriend, Louis, and leads Harry to a months long journey to understand himself better. Will Harry figure out what makes him feel so different from everyone else? And will he find the courage to tell his boyfriend?

Or a character study into Ace Harry with the most supportive boyfriend, Louis.

This one was so emotional and sweet. I loved Louis' willingness to understand Harry and support him the best he can.

🌟 So perfect for me by reallynotmemoi / @reallynotmemoi (NR, 580)

Louis surprises Harry by giving him flowers.

This one was short and sweet. I loved it!

🌟 Just a taste of your lips by grapejuice_babe (E, 13.3k)

"I'm a firm believer in love at first sight, babe. You didn't have to walk by five times."

"Oh, hush."

"I'm going to politely request for you to make me."

-

Or, the five times Louis knew Harry was his soulmate and the one time it was confirmed.

Such a wonderfully written, sweet and funny fic. I couldn't stop smiling. Rest in peace, Addy.

🌟 Always Come Back To You by whoknows / @crazyupsetter (E, 28k)

“I’ll do it,” Harry offers brightly. No one even blinks. “I’ll do it?”

Louis sighs irritably. “Shut up,” he orders, tossing a pillow in the general direction of Harry’s face. This is a terrible time for jokes, especially Harry’s lame, old people ones.

Not that it was an old people joke. Just that most of the time Harry’s jokes consist of knock-knocks or terrible puns. The type of jokes old people like, Louis’ pretty sure. His nan always finds them hilarious when Harry tells her one.

Harry bats the pillow out of the air without even blinking. “Be reasonable, Lou,” he says in his most reasonable voice.

Louis is perfectly reasonable, thank you very much, and he’s also frustrated and upset and tired and he really wants to punch something. Maybe he should have held on to that pillow a little longer.

“You’re not gonna fucking do it,” he snaps. “That’s the last thing I need.”

This one was very cute and at times quite silly. They're both complete and total idiots, but I love them, even though I want to yell at them just a little bit.

🌟 When I Think About You by phdmama / @phdmama (E, 4.6k)

Harry is beautiful, inexperienced, and curious. Louis is smart, seasoned, and comfortable in her own body. When Harry has questions, just maybe, Louis has the answers she’s looking for.

And… they’re roommates.

This one is so soft and sweet, and the little "twist" towards the end is everything to me.

🌟 Blue Nights by SilverStuff50 / @silverstuff50 (E, 55k)

Louis does what he needs to do to make ends meet, and if that means showing his body to make money, so be it, he'll use the gifts he's been given to keep him and his dad safe.

When a mysterious benefactor starts to make demands on him, Louis has to question whether its the money or the man he's most tempted by.

This one was so so so good! I'm truly obsessed with how perfect they are for each other and how much they care about each other. Such a well written fic!

🌟 Suddenly They're Right by sapphichug (E, 22k)

Helene smiled, the wrinkles by her eyes and mouth flattering her face. “That sounds lovely. And you didn’t even fool around? Isn’t that the whole point of spending the night with a friend with benefits?”

“We’re not that, we’re just���we’re just friends.”

“Who sleep together. Literally and figuratively.”

“Yes.”

“How is that not being friends with benefits?”

Louis huffed. “Keep your voice down, please. I do have a class going on, if you didn’t notice. And I don’t know, but that sounds so…immature and sleazy, and that’s not what we have.”

Helene leaned closer and aggressively whispered at him, “Because you also have romance and meaningful feelings for each other and everything a real relationship has, sans the label.”

✶ ✶

Louis is a painting professor with an art block the size of Texas and a global superstar for a non-boyfriend, who he wants to keep.

a fic about feeling stuck and learning to free oneself

This one was so moving and so emotional. I wish I could come up with something that would be good enough to describe it, but I'm not very good with these things. I'll just say that I almost cried reading the comments on this fic, because all of them were so beautiful and I'm so glad that this beautiful story received so many beautiful comments.

🌟 'tis the damn season by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf (E, 17.9k)

Harry returns to her small hometown over the holiday season and starts to think about the road not taken.

This was painful but so incredibly sweet, my face started to hurt form how much I was smiling.

and a bit of sameless self-promo for good measure

🌟 Enough To Wish For More by galactic_larry (M, 33k)

Louis Tomlinson just wants a few days of peace and quiet while his family are out of state. But when he meets the lead singer of a band he’s never heard of, his life and everything he thought he knew about it changes forever.

Harry Styles just wants to get his new guitar and then he’s leaving Haverhill, Massachusetts as fast as he can. But when he gets lost and asks someone for directions, he finds a lot more than the street he was initially looking for.

A long, complicated, painful, fucked up story about love.

Choosing one of my babies was difficult, but it had to be done since I did it for everyone else. This is genuinely the best thing I have ever written, probably the best thing I'll ever write too, and I'm immensely proud of it.

[mathildeaquisexta]

How to request a document reproduction on the French National Archives website (without paying anything)?

Setting the scene: I'd like to obtain a digital version of this file, because online, only a brief unhelpful description is shown and the visual is not available.

If you don't know how to navigate through the website to get to the archive you want, I've explained in this post how to search for a specific item in the French National Archives' virtual reading room. You really should read it before this post, because there are many details I won't go into again.

You're ready? Okay, let's get into it.

Once again, you don't go to the official website, but to the virtual reading room. This is systematically the place to go to search for documents and leaf through inventories. You can access it here.

In real life, if you go to the Paris or Saint-Denis sites and ask to consult the archives, you'll be required to register by filling in a form with your information (not much personal details, they often just want to know if you're here for personal stuff like genealogy, or if you're studying documents for university-related works), and you'll be given a card.

Here, online, it's basically the same thing. You'll need to create an account. Don't worry, it's completely free. Be careful to go to the Espace personnel" (personal account) and not the "Accès sécurisé" (secured access).

Once you have clicked, the website will inform you that creating an account will give you access to the following options:

Order or reserve a document

Request document reproductions

Request search assistance

Save your search results

So really, I insist, this is a step you shouldn't neglect. And of course, this also works if you live in a different country!

Okay now, let's get back to our document.

I'm not going to explain a second time what a class mark is and how to find it, once again I refer you to my other post which explains everything in detail. Just know that the item that interests me has F/7/6712 as its class mark.

There's a lot of information. Just know that the first thing to do is to set aside your document in what we call the “panier” (the cart). Yep, the shopping cart, just as if you were buying clothes on a website. There is also an option to “reserve” the document, but this implies that the archivists will put aside the physical version of the document and wait for you to come and consult it directly in Paris or Saint-Denis. Yeah, no. Let's save ourselves a shit ton of money, all of us are way too poor for this.

This is what the cart looks like (image below ↓). This is where you will store all the class marks that interest you, but which you can't or don't want to have reproduced immediately, so you can easily find them later. As you can see, I've already put aside a few. You need to look at the access conditions right away to check whether you can make your request or not. If you look carefully, you'll see that some of the Carnot family archives I wanted to obtain are blocked because they're in such poor condition that the archivists don't want to risk damaging them further by scanning or even opening them.

However, for the document I want to get today (the last one on the list), there's nothing written in this section, which means that everything is fine and I can proceed.

So we click on "Demander une reproduction" (ask for a reproduction) :

In this space, you need to be as specific as possible about what you want. For example, if the class mark is linked to a file with... let's say 600 items (and this often happens), you specify that you only need the documents associated with the numbers 4, 96 and 546, so that the archivist doesn't have to scan 600 documents one by one for nothing and cry all day.

Then here, you specify why you want this document and what you're going to use it for (for me, this will be personal and private use because this specific research of mine isn't related to work or university, but you can see the “professional use” option also exists).

And this is where you need to listen to me very carefully, because in the price list for document reproductions, there's only one free option, and that's the jpeg or pdf scan. Trust me, I systematically ask for this option, and the scans are always of excellent quality. Currently I got +1000 Fouché-related documents without paying anything and without needing to move from my couch.

Of course, the prices aren't exponential, in fact they're quite reasonable (for example, if you want a paper photocopy sent by regular mail, it'll cost you between 15 and 30 eurocents. That's fine for a single sheet, but if, like me, you need files with more than 300 pages, it quickly becomes a problem).

And finally, you submit your request and you wait for 3 to 6 months.

They will most likely send you an email with a password-protected link they'll give you, to a site where you can send very large files (they often use WeTransfer), and you'll have a limited time to open it so be careful to use an email adress you check regularly when you create your account.

And you have your document. Good job <3

[buckysegan]

With all my gratitude, hope and returned adoration - Part Two

Summary: John writes back to his friend from home and we hear from our friend across the way. John x She. Word Count: 1.2k. A/N: we are def rolling with some historical inaccuracies in regards to letters here but sue me. he deserves it. pstttt also should we name her? do you all want to send me random john prompts. my baby isn't ok and i'm not ok. Part one linked here. Part three linked here.

John was sure he wasn't sweating a normal amount as he looked down at the piece of paper that Buck had offered him. It had taken two whole days of questions from the man for Bucky to even decide that he was going to reply. He’d been offered the hope, what more could he ask of her. Could he ask more? There had been a return address on the letter which Buck had insisted was there for a reason and she had opened herself out for a reply from him but the Major couldn’t help but be unsure.

It was an odd feeling for him, before the war he hadn't been unsure of anything and since he’d been here? Well he hadn’t been sober enough to doubt anything that he had done. These days though Bucky felt like he doubted every single thing. The thing was, he wasn't sure that he could afford to doubt this, to look past the life line that had been offered to him. Not when each day he could feel his mind draw a little further toward the edge no matter how much he or Buck tried to keep it in check.

With a sigh he pulled the pen into his hand, eyes locked on the page for a moment before he began to scrawl.

Dear Friend From Home 

You’re gunna have to forgive me because I ain’t going to be as good as this as you are. I’ve written so many letters this war you would think that I’d have gotten a handle on it by now but I find myself at a loss when it comes to what to say to you. 

I think the first thing I got to say is thank you. I don’t know if the words I can put on paper are ever going to really tell you how much your letter meant to me. See I was a certain type of man that didn’t think much to pen pals. I figured that I’d be ok, you know, that with my boys I’d have what I needed to make it through the hard days but watching the letters for everyone else roll in has been harder than I thought it might. 

There are things that I can’t tell you cause I don’t know who might read these letters, and where I am I can’t get you no picture but I can tell you that my favorite dish is a meat and potato pie, simple I know but really I’m a simple hearty kind of guy. What makes me laugh, you asked? That’s kind of simple for me too, just good company, myself sometimes, Buck, he’s my best friend, he makes me laugh a lot. What makes you laugh? I’d like to know that. 

May I know where you are? I know that might be a big ask but you said I could ask anything I know and if I get out of here…we get some leave, I’d like to know where I need to ask for me leave to be. Then I can show you what I sound and look like and know that in return. 

If this letter doesn’t reach you for a while, know you’ve been with me the whole time. 

With all my gratitude, hope and returned adoration

Major John Egan 

“What if she doesn’t get it?” He found himself questioning quietly to Buck as he handed over the letter to make it out of camp. His best friend settled him with a soft look, one that always made Bucky feel like he had some worldly knowledge the rest of them had missed out on, that assured him everything was going to be alright. “You just gotta have hope she will John, she’ll get it.” 

With a huff Bucky nodded, pulling his hat on as he watched his letter vanish from his view all together. “Alright well I can’t sit here and wonder, I’m off to play baseball or something.”

The letter that Bucky had so carefully handed over changed hands many more times, some fingers as rough as the pilots, some dirtier, some softer, but the last set of fingers to slide the letter from her post box had perfectly manicured fingers. Her flicking of her post was greedy as she looked for the same thing that she had every day since she’d posted her own letter.

At first, her hopes of finding what she was looking for had been unrealistic; she knew that, it hadn’t even been long enough for her letter to be received, let alone for him to get one back to her, then the other girls at the centre, they’d gotten letters back, notes, anything. That was when she had allowed her hope to return, for a moment at least. Days without anything had turned into weeks and then weeks had turned into months. Anything could have happened, that was what she tried to tell herself, he might not have gotten her letter, he might have thought it was weird and had chosen not to reply. That thought was enough to miff her, he could have at least said thank you. When she had decided no one could be that mean, her diminishing hope had turned to worry, what if he hadn't been able to receive her letter.

Flicking through each white envelope today, she almost missed it, how she didn't know because it was clearly different from the rest of them, maybe she hadn't wanted to look. "Not…" Trailing off she flicked back to the second to last letter, her eyes taking in the scrawling of her address, her eyes checking the postage before she was taring inside. "It's here, he wrote it's here." She called through the halls to the other girls that she lived with, all of which had been holding their breath with her. "Oh god I can't read it, what if he's telling me I was weird!" She cried, thrusting the unopened letter into the hands of her eager friend.

"Don't be dramatic, he's going to be throwing down his gratitude at you being a doll, you should have attached a picture with it I told you!" Meg beamed easily back at her, the same sense of reservation missing from her actions as she tore into the letter so that it could be read to the group. "Dear Friend From Home. You’re gunna have to forgive me because I ain’t going to be as good as this as you are. I’ve written so many letters this war you would think that I’d have gotten a handle on it by now but I find myself at a loss when it comes to what to say to you." That was enough, pulling the letter from Megs hands she was quick to scramble away from the group once more, locking herself into her room as re-read the opening line herself, the tears in her eyes only welling even further as she continued.

An ache in her chest formed as she read the words once more, taking in each strike of his pen where he had corrected himself or smudge from whatever he'd had on his fingers. The state of the letter was enough to make her wonder, but at least for now, she knew her friend was ok. He was alive, and he wanted to hear more from her. It couldn't have been normal, to feel this level of emotion for a man that she had never met, but she had found herself here regardless and in the middle of so much uncertainty, she wasn't going to question the pull she felt across the way to England.

Pushing from her bed she moved to her desk, paper pulled from her stationary pot, the quicker she could post this the quicker it could get to him.

"Dear Major Egan,

I'm delighted to hear I'm with you. I hope you know, that you've been with me too…"

[mullermilkshake]

He stole you away.

Cross posted from my AO3

Kento Nanami x Fem!reader Tags: NSFW kinda. Yandere themes. Kidnapping. Restraints. Threat of violence.

<<< For more Nanami content, click this link to go back to the Masterlist! >>>

“Don’t be unreasonable.” 

Kento Nanami sat just out of your reach, hunched over on a small upturned bucket, feet planted firmly on the ground, but his personality flying away with him. You couldn’t see his eyes in the darkness of the poorly dim lit overhead light, but he was definitely staring at you like he always did. 

You couldn’t help but laugh until it turnt sour. “Unreasonable? Really?! I’m being unreasonable; you chained me up like a fucking animal! You psycho!”

Oh, yes. He had put you down in his basement for however long after managing to find you again. The train station of all places like he had access to the cameras, he was just always there, in the house seeing your every move, he tried calling you before you even managed to get to the end of the road to dispose of the phone he gave you. 

“You are being unreasonable, I buy everything you want, anything you could possibly ask for, but you never let me in. So yes you are, and this is for your own safety, you were going to leave me.” 

“I don’t know you, I don't ask for anything!” The metal cup on the floor you’d scrambled across the room for flew from your hand and only just missed him, the water never touching him either. 

He was just out of reach, just out of reach to strangle, to beat or maim in a way to get him to hand over the keys and he knew that much too, never bringing the keys with him, a coward's insurance because he must have thought little old you would take his built existence down. 

A fucking coward.

“Then let me, I thought we were past this.” He leant on his closed fist and shifted onto his side. “All I want is to take care of you and you are making this incredibly difficult because I was very concise from the beginning in exchange for your compliance. You had nothing to your name, but I have everything you need. Let me help you.” 

He was looking more gaunt in later days, a scruffy shirt and drawn in posture uncomfortably contorted as his legs folded in half at the knee being so low to the ground. You were on your knees, arms stretched out to lengthen your body past your chained ankle .

You noticed that the skin around his nails was dry and bitten, uncomfortably nibbled with anxiety and stress to which you could only speculate that he hadn’t been sleeping. 

“When was the last time you slept? Don’t go passing out on me.” You would not call an ambulance if he did, but either way it would fuck you getting out.

“Those are kind words.” There was a hint of a small smile on his lips. “If you want to know, I’ve found myself lacking sleep because you aren’t up there to join me. I’ve grown used to it now.”

That was laughable. A man who handcuffed you to him upstairs to make sure you never left, and would wake him every time you moved. You hoped at first when he took the cuffs off he would trust you enough, because he was only human and would have to fall asleep eventually. Then came the nightcaps and warm tea to knock you out until morning with no recollection of anything until you figured it out and found his stash.

But Kento Nanami was an incredibly intelligent man, you had to give him that. He noticed a mile off when you suggested making the tea yourself, what a fucking stupid mistake that was to make when he insisted you drink it first. He was a very sly, knowledge welding demon who came back from anything you threw at him like a cockroach in a nuclear blast, a gross limpet indefinitely stuck to the hull of a boat. 

Anything. Everything. He was three steps ahead. 

“Well you’ll be lonely for a while then.” You wouldn’t sleep next to him again if you could help it and if you had to, you'd just scream in his ear and pinch him to destroy his sleep. Lack of sleep was a dangerous thing.

Part of you wondered if you weren't that lucky you escaped on your own, but rather he had actually let you leave, a sick game to find you and therefore have a twisted reason to punish you. Kento Nanami was undeniably clever and the more you thought about it, that thought cemented inside your head like a tick, burying away into self doubt.

You weren’t lucky, the only luck you had was that he didn’t kill you, but even that he had made clear he wouldn't do, you were sure he’d stop at nothing to keep you there short of forcing you to survive just so you could exist. 

He stood and straightened himself up. “I’m going to sleep down here with you while you learn to behave, I’ll have to teach you manners again on how you should act.” He wandered over to the stairs that lead up to the rest of the house that was out of sight, but you could still hear him clearly. ”No one can see into the future, but maybe I’ll let you take a walk with me when the ground thaws out… If you listen and behave.”

Behave, telling you to behave like a fucking child whilst he had his arms full of sleeping gear for a fucking camping trip. This wasn’t a luxury resort, the basement was freezing and dark, even worse when it rained when the wind whipped against the small vent. 

The shackle chain dug into your ankle, pulling, tugging on the skin which reddened it and rashed. He was so hard to entertain, to say the right things before he retreated into his shell and shunned you for a day to ‘collect himself’. 

Another attempt wouldn’t hurt. You stood up and got as close as you could without appearing pissed off. Maybe desperate would cater to what he wanted instead, because he hadn’t actually broken you yet. Not properly at least. “I’ll behave. I-I will, you'll see. I’ll be the best… whatever you want me to be, ever. I’ll make you proud.” 

Was it a little too strong? Maybe. He stepped forward to you, the overhead light highlighting his features. “Nice try Darling. I know you're still angry at me so please don’t test my intellect.”

You blankly glared at him, he even talked to you like shit in a nice way the fucker, talking down like he was the smartest man in the room, even his friend Gojo had picked up on that when you met him. The pair of them were horrid, more alike than Nanami gave himself credit for. You hated him, you hated the house, the basement and the way the fucking door at the top of the stairs creaked when it opened.  

You hadn’t realised how close he was but you spoke anyway in all of the red you saw. “You fucking-”  

Nanami took a hold of your arm and pulled you towards him, his breath tickled past your ear, but he wasn’t whispering. “You know, Gojo feels about his person exactly the way I feel about you and she isn’t so lucky. You know what kind of man he is, don’t you?”

The vibration of his words made your eardrum tingle and covered you in standing hairs. “W-what’s that supposed to mean?”

He didn’t let go, but squeezed his hand a little, a warning shot you assumed. It didn’t hurt, but you knew he was there. “Gojo plays with his things, because she was exactly like you, trying her damndest to leave him. That broke his heart and he took much more restrictive measures to keep her safe, away from bad influences. I can be like that, would you like to see it?”

“N-no.” You had only met Gojo once and Nanami often mentioned him as a scare tactic and it worked every time. The only thing it seemed that put you in your place.

He huffed a sigh of relief it seemed and loosened his grip on your arm. “Good. Because that would absolutely break my heart Darling. Gojo is cruel to keep the person he loves safe, I don’t want to extend that type of courtesy to you.”

Gojo was arrogant and a bastard. You were uncomfortable before he even stepped foot through the door when he came to the house, you didn’t even try to plead with him when Nanami left the room. He came to you, not the other way around. 

“If you were mine, you wouldn’t have this much freedom.” You always remembered that fucking look in his eyes over the rims of his sunglasses, it would have made most people piss themselves.

You weren’t sure what to say to back to Nanami. “How generous of you.”

He picked up a strand of loose hair and fiddled with it between his fingertips, rubbing the pads on the texture as though to take it in to remember what it felt like. “I know you don’t believe me and I hope you do with time, but I do love you. I would never be like Gojo, not to hurt you intentionally, so please don’t back me into a corner with no choice.”

Nanami always claimed that he was infatuated with you, looking at you with adoring eyes even when you shouted obscenities and threw dishes at him. Gojo, he was nothing like Nanami and that’s what terrified you, that power imbalance was astronomical and the only thing stopping Nanami from doing the things Gojo did was his self proclaimed love for you.

Gojo wasn’t in love, he was a psychopath with far too much power at his fingertips. But Nanami wasn’t in love with you either and you lost so much sleep trying to understand him, to work out why he was drawn to you. 

A blank slate every single time because the situation was totally ridiculous.

He leant in and you were sure he inhaled you. “I hate seeing you upset.”

There was no helping a man like Kento Nanami, so set in his deluded ways that there was no getting through to him. 

You tried your best to explain and maybe if you couldn’t escape, you could make things easier. “If you don’t want to hurt me and prefer it when I’m happy, then let me go from the basement. Maybe we could work something out, but treating me this way won’t make me love you back. Love is earned, built up over time.” 

Though you weren't about to bend over backwards for him. You’d make your escape eventually even if it took a whole year.

“And I have done none of that?” He backed away, his brows lowered in a hurtful expression and narrowed eyes. “You have been here almost a year and you’re still the same from when you first arrived, I don’t know what more I can do.”

A year, already? Everyone definitely thought you were dead, or eloped somewhere. Who were you kidding? Definitely dead.

“I-I’m not saying let me leave from here, just out of the basement. A relationship is built on trust a-and I know I haven’t been exactly trustworthy, but have faith. I won’t disappoint you again; I won't disappear on you again.” It made you want to vomit, a churned stomach at those bullshit words that somehow came out genuine. 

Nanami must have seen it too because he hesitated, just for a moment in his own confliction. Were you telling the truth? Not completely, but he seemed to process it as fact but never confirmed it. 

“I’ll give this a go, but you need to try and trust me. Can you do that?”

Nanami came back to you, so close and bushed down your arms that gave you goosebumps, you wanted to pull away from him, slink into the corner and tell him to fuck off, but you stood your ground in his deafening silence. 

You whispered, breathless enough to entice him, enough to keep yourself from grimacing. “Let's go upstairs, hm?”  

His hands found their way to your cheeks, cupping them like a romance novel, inclined to kiss you softly. You wanted to back away and push him from you, kick his shin, but you stayed firm even when his nose brushed yours. 

He was attractive in your eyes had you met him in a bar or club you probably would have gone back to his for a quick fuck or two, maybe even a casual thing and allowed his twisted self to remain beneath the surface without a care because that’s all he was, a stranger.

To his defence which you regretted supporting, he had never touched you inappropriately that had any sexual undertones. But with the look across his features locked on to you, he had a different thought in mind. 

Would you do it? Could you do it? 

Nanami had his hands at your waist now after dropping from your face, pulling you closer, lips almost touching. “Let me take care of you. I want you to feel good being here with me.”

The first proposition since you had been taken, at least it lasted this long, but could you actually go through with it? Get access to the keys while he slept and smother him with a pillow, that would be too quick, he'd overpower you in. a heartbeat. You would need to play the long game. 

You could do it, no words left your lips so you only nodded. 

His lips were far softer than you thought, though his hands were even more so, holding you there in a firm yet gentle grasp. The weight on your ankle stayed heavy, aching but keeping you grounded enough to see the wood for the trees. 

The kiss was slow, sensual and you tried your best to keep with it and even went as far as to rest your hands on his muscled chest. There was no tongue, not a feverish expression in sight with an almost innocence about it, a first kiss but far more control than you initially thought Nanami had. 

Then he pulled away. “Tomorrow, let's sleep first.”

It was like he knew, but didn’t say and he walked away like it hadn’t happened and picked up his stuff to sleep on. 

Did he know, catch on to your tricks? You didn’t want to know, but the night was going to drag on forever. His guard was up and there wasn't anything you could do that wouldn’t arouse suspicion.

You just prayed he would never show a side like Gojo.

DISCLAIMER - Crossposted from my AO3 - I do not own any of the characters or anything from the anime. This is a work of fan fiction and is absolutely not representative of the views or intentions of the original creator(s).

Also please don’t post any of my work without permission thank you!

[thehandsresisthim]

“tranquility”

contains: yandere link (botw/totk) x reader, nothing too explicit, but still 18+, ise-kaid reader but it kinda just starts when you’re already in hyrule, maybe i’ll post the next ‘chapters’ the following weeks if i remember to ehem

word count: ~1400

You and him find a secluded spot in the woods to spend the night.

He thoroughly scouts out the immediate area for a moment, making sure that there are no monsters around.

It’s late into the night, almost midnight, so he hurries up preparing everything - not that there’s much to prepare. But he lights a fire, and he puts down his bedroll, and he tells you to use it. He’ll keep watch, he tells you.

“Is this really okay?” you say in a tired voice.

He nods. “I bet you’re not used to sleeping on the ground.”

“Mmh.” you would argue further, but you’re so tired that you don’t protest, just lay down. It’s not as bad as you thought. He insisted on making sure there were no rocks beneath the bedroll, not even the tiniest thing - smooth ground all the way. You pull the thin covers over you and rest your head on the pillow. You don’t close your eyes yet, however.

He looks at you and smiles. “Sleep well.”

Quickly after, you fall asleep.

⚔️⋆｡°✩ ⋆ ⋆ ❁ ⋆ ⋆ ✩°｡⋆ ⚔️

It’s early morning, around four, when you wake again. He’s laying next to you, arms tightly wrapped around you, right hand placed beneath your shirt, on your back. His hand feels surprisingly soft, although some of the callousness you’d expect due to his, uh, living circumstances, is also there. He’s breathing softly, and definitely asleep. His sword and other weapons are placed right next to the bed roll.

You find yourself not knowing how to react. Although this is definitely a bit forward, he did lend you his bedroll, and has been so, so nice to you so far. If not for him… you don’t know how you would’ve gotten along in this world. Probably gobbled up by some monsters. He deserves some rest too…

A voice - his voice - snaps you out of your thoughts.

“Darling…”

You notice that he’s sleeping - breathing as softly and evenly as before, hand still located on your back. Perhaps he is dreaming about his lover? You hope that this isn’t one of those dreams. That’d be really weird. But you guess that even if that’s so - not like that’d be his fault. He can’t help what he’s dreaming about.

“‘M… never… going to let you go,” he continues.

You can’t help but smile a little. Yes, you decide, he’s definitely dreaming about a lover. You wonder if you’ll ever meet them. You fall asleep again.

⚔️⋆｡°✩ ⋆ ⋆ ❁ ⋆ ⋆ ✩°｡⋆ ⚔️

It’s later in the morning when you wake up again.

You stretch and yawn. He gives you a friendly nod once he sees that you’re awake and waves at you.

“Good morning!” you say.

He smiles back at you, then turns back to the fireplace. He seems to be grilling the mushrooms he collected yesterday. You smile at the smell and get up from the bedroll.

He’s wearing his armour, and all of his weapons on him. You remember that he did wear his armour in bed with you - you felt the metal on his shoulders pressed against your chest - he must’ve put the weapons back on. It only makes sense, after all.

You can’t help but think of him sleeping next to you… he seems to be unbothered by it. Maybe it’s just a common thing among travellers? You decide to not think anything else of it.

You fold the blanket and the pillow, and roll up the bedroll. You have to bend over to pick up the bedroll, and you feel like he glances over at you for a moment as you do so…

Snap out of it! you tell yourself. He’s probably just making sure that you’re folding it up correctly. Besides, if you’re going with the dream he had earlier, he's already got someone else, so don’t get your hopes up!

You place all the parts of the makeshift bed together. He doesn’t look at you again, but rather, seems to stare at the fire and continue preparing the mushrooms.

You decide that since he’s made sure that the area is safe just last night, some mild exploring might do you some good. The noise of your steps is overshadowed by the cackling fire and muffled by the dampness of the forest floor.

⚔️⋆｡°✩ ⋆ ⋆ ❁ ⋆ ⋆ ✩°｡⋆ ⚔️

After a few more minutes of roasting the mushrooms over the fire, he stretches a little and decides to sit down. As he stares into the fire, he reflects on last night. Admittedly, laying down next to you was a bit forward…

But then again. He allowed you to travel with him, although you’re slower, and he allowed you to sleep on his bedroll. And he defended you against the monsters, and he’s making you food right now. He deserves a bit of comfort, doesn’t he?

‘Hopefully, the bedroll will keep her scent for a while.’ he catches himself thinking. ‘If she’s always with me… then I’ll never have to worry about that…’ a part of his mind continues.

He catches himself staring into the flames and entertaining the thought. He imagines you living with him, in a house built by him, near a village of your choosing. He imagines you and him sleeping next to each other, perhaps even more entangled together than last night.

He could make you food. Maybe you could keep horses. He could use his strong arms and knowledge of weapons for something other than fighting. Although… if someone were to get too close to you… He’ll make sure to never forget how to properly handle people like that.

But there’s a certain tranquillity in thinking about how everyday life would be with you.

You and him could design a house together: you said you’d like to stargaze, so obviously, there’d be a large balcony.

It could connect to the bedroom; he imagines a big bed where you can sleep on the proper mattress that you deserve. Next to him, of course. He could build it himself. He knows that he’s rather strong; so, since he wants it to be a place where he can have you all to himself, he’ll need to make sure that the bed is built in a way to be able to keep up with that. And it’ll need a big canopy - a physical thing to keep out the outside world. He’ll get to keep you all to himself there.

And he’ll build you a nice big closet, so that you can keep all the luxurious clothes he’ll buy for you. He wonders what you’d like to wear… He thinks about buying you jewellery. Small amber earrings. A necklace… perhaps one of those tight ones, that would go around your neck. And he’d make sure that you have a ring on, too, just like he will. He wants you to have a closet full of pretty clothes. Maybe you’d ‘steal’ some of his too… you in his tunic… he smiles at the thought. You, in the morning, perhaps still slightly sleepy - quickly getting out of bed, searching for something to wear. Maybe you’d just quickly slip on some of his clothes. You’d sit on a nearby chair and smile at him. And there’d be a big desk for you to paint and craft and write by.

You’d also want a nice bathroom, probably. A really modern one, where you could shower… perhaps with him. And it’d need a bathtub, too!

And he’d make sure to build a strong, big staircase… it could lead right into the living room. He’d like a kitchen area that would connect to the living room… just a big open space. So that he can always watch you. You could cook together, and he’d make all your favourite meals. And he’d make sure that you’d have a big sofa, to cuddle on and hang out on and maybe indulge in other activities there too.

The windows would be big and open, to always let the sun in.

And maybe, if you’d like it, you’d keep horses. He wonders what you’d name yours. He could teach you how to ride… maybe help you catch one. Or maybe you’d only have one horse, and he’d never teach you to ride, so that you’d always have to rely on him to get around. So that he’d always be around you. And you’d sit behind him on his horse, and he’d purposely ride a little faster than you’re used to, and you’d hold onto his waist.

He finds himself smiling. The thought makes him feel warm inside, in a way that he’s not used to. He thinks that you must be feeling hungry, so he picks up one of the mushroom skewers from the fireplace. He turns around to face you. His smile falls. You’re not there.

i swear if i was isekai-d (?) to hyrule i’d be killed for blasphemy in seconds - “lmao weak ass goddess hylia needing a nine year old to fight her battles for h-“ *gets struck down by lightning*

uhhh enough babbling hope you enjoyed ❤️ comments and likes are always appreciated, same as reblogs of course!! master list is here :)

18+ short fic abt link warming your strap is here if that suits your fancy hehe

[mydadleft471]

Cerulean Coast and Flower Crowns

Summary: Messmer takes you on a date to the Cerulean Coast. Fluff ensues.

This was a request from anonymous! I'll link the request here! I'm so sorry this took forever, I just started school again and the back half of my summer was NUTS. But this prompt was so cute I couldn't stop thinking about it, so I got home and busted it out. Thanks for the patience and the request anon!

Also, thank you guys for over 100 followers! I didn't realize I hit that until today, so thank you all so much! The support I get on here is insane, and it means everything to me. I love writing so much, and being able to share it with other people is so satisfying and gratifying!

As always, please enjoy and thank you all for following, reading, liking, commenting, and reblogging! I hope I'll be able to post again relatively soon because I love this man sm

A soft knock at the door slightly startled you.

“Just a minute!” You hollered, trying to finish your braids as quickly as possible. Ever since you had braided Messmer’s hair, he’s been trying to get you to match him. Wearing matching braids was a simple gesture, but to him, it was anything but. He’d yet to work up the courage to ask you to braid a lock of his hair in your own.

Securely tying your hair in place and giving yourself a glance in your vanity, you decided you looked good enough to answer the door. The embroidered gold collar on your red dress glimmered in the sunlight streaming through the nearby window. Whichever way you turned, you would seemingly glow. A set of polished ruby earrings and a matching necklace sat on the table before you. They were another gift from Messmer. He loved when you wore red. Perhaps it was something possessive, or maybe it was the fact that red was his color, so wearing it meant you were proud to be his. Whichever it was, you didn’t mind. You just enjoyed making him happy.

Standing from your chair, you hurry to the door and open it. Standing before you was Messmer himself. You notice that he’s not in his usual armor and cloak, but instead, he wears a ruby tunic with black pants. He looks simple, yet regal, all at once. His hair has yet to be braided, as he insisted that your braids look nicer. You think it’s just an excuse to have you do his hair, which you don’t mind.

“Hello, beloved.” You greet him with a blinding smile. “Would you like to come in?”

He nods and enters your room. The smell of vanilla wafts in the air pleasantly. You catch his eyes drifting over your dress. He seems to realize that he’s been staring at you, and looks away quickly. 

He clears his throat. “Red suits thee, it seemeth. Ne’er have I witnessed anyone as beautiful as thee, my consort.”

“You look wonderful as well, Messmer. What’s the occasion?” 

“I wish for thee to accompany me to the Cerulean Coast.” His face is red.

“For what, my love? Is there some pressing business to attend to there?”

“No.” He grabs your hand and straightens the matching gold ring on your middle finger. “I wish to take thee there. Nights ago thou had said something about the beauty of the Cerulean Coast.”

“Are you asking me on a date?” You cock your head at him.

“I- yes.” He seems like he’s trying to shrink away from your gaze.

“When did you want to go?”

“If today suits thee, then today. When thou’rt ready.” He squeezes your hand.

“Well, first I need to put on my jewelry. Then, I assume, you want me to braid your hair to match mine?”

“How well thou knowest me.” He gives you a shy smile.

“Come on, then.” You lead him over to your vanity and you sit down.

You reach for your ruby earrings and begin to put them in, but Messmer’s hand gently stops you. You shoot him a puzzled look. Did he not want you to wear these today?

“If I may, I would like to assist thee.”

You give him a small nod and hand him the earrings. They’re comically small in his palm. He leans down and slowly puts your earrings in, careful to not accidentally poke you. Once he finishes, he reaches for your necklace and stands behind you. He gently drapes it over your neck and adjusts any jewels that aren’t facing the right way, then clasps the ends together. He ghosts his hand over your neck and collarbones, making you shiver. 

“I adore thee in red.” You see him smile at you in the mirror. His eye glints possessively and your stomach does somersaults.

“Your turn.” You hop out of the seat and gesture for Messmer to sit, which he does.

You grab your brush and begin to part his hair down the middle, brushing it so it’s silky and smooth. Taking three small strands of hair, you begin an intricate braid. When you finish with the first one, you wordlessly pass it to him to hold, which he does. He’s gotten used to your silent cues when doing his hair. You begin the left braid next, shaping it into a half-moon, soon to be joined together with the other braid. It’s a very simple hairstyle, yet it is Messmer’s favorite. 

Tying the ends together, you lean over and give Messmer a quick peck on the cheek to tell him you’re finished. His face reddens and he gives you a bashful smile. Even after all this time, he still flusters from the simplest of gestures.

He stands from your vanity chair and gently grabs your hand. He brings it up to his mouth and places a delicate kiss on your knuckles.

“Will the Keep be okay while we’re away?”

He nods and squeezes your hand. “Fear not, beloved. I have left Gaius in command. We shall return by sunset.” 

It seemed like he already had everything planned for the day.

He leads you, arm-in-arm, down the stairs and hallways you’ve started calling home, and servants bow their heads in greeting as you pass. One of Messmer’s serpents winds around your waist and the other perches on your shoulder. They relax against you, comforted by your warmth.

Messmer shakes his head. “Fickle creatures they are. But I cannot fault them for preferring thee.”

“They’ve only been with you for the entire duration of your life. They can’t be tired of you.” The serpents hiss and wind around you tighter, making you and Messmer laugh.

Once you reach the gates to the Shadow Keep, Messmer signals to one of his guards. The heavy doors slowly open, revealing the vast plains of Scadu Altus. The breeze gently tousels your hair and you huff. Messmer gives you a small smile and tucks a wind whipped lock of hair behind your ear.

A knight approaches with Messmer’s horse and hands him the reins. He’d pulled away from you briefly to pet her. You’d seen her before, but you’d never dared to ride her. She’s a large, black horse with deep brown eyes. Her mane flows freely down her neck and she exudes power. She’s stubborn, but Messmer had rode her into many battles and came back unscathed. If he trusted her, so would you.

Messmer looks at you, standing timidly a few feet away. He gives you that gentle smile that only you get to see and approaches you.

“Have I told thee her name?”

“No,” you shake your head, ruby earrings gently knocking against your neck. “She’s beautiful, though.”

“She is called Belladonna. A fine horse she is.” She whinnies at his praise, stomping her hooves as if eager to go.

Messmer reaches out to you and you give him your hand. He slowly pulls you towards Belladonna and extends your hand to her. She sniffs you a few times and then butts her head against you.. Messmer laughs and you begin to stroke her mane, amazed at how silky it is.

“Thou needn’t worry; she is gentle. No harm will come to you with her, beloved.” You believe him as she nuzzles into your gentle pets and scratches. The tension you felt upon seeing her dissipated almost immediately.

“Come, consort mine.” He mounts and settles onto Belladonna easily, as if he’s done it a thousand times. He wraps an arm around your waist and hoists you up with assistance from his serpents. You settle with his stomach against your back, legs thrown over the side of the horse gracefully. 

“Wilt thou be alright?” Messmer secures you in between his arms, reins clutched in his hands.

“Just… don’t go very fast. Please?” Your stomach churns with anxiety being up so high. You also haven’t ridden a horse in what seemed like ages.

“Whatever thou wishest. We shalt go as slow as thou requires.” 

With a snap of the reins, Belladonna begins a slow trot. You thought you’d be jostled around more, but between the slow pace, the easy terrain, and Messmer’s form keeping you steady, you find yourself sighing and sitting back against your lover.

The trees are tinted gold as you ride past them, sunlight streaming in between the leaves. The grass sways in the gentle breeze and you admire the nearby wildlife as they prance carefree among themselves. You could imagine your surroundings in a painting. It was nice to be out in fresh air and away from the Shadow Keep, even if only for a little while.

Most of the trip is spent in silence apart from the gentle sounds of Belladonna’s hooves against the dirt and the occasional chirp from a bird nesting overhead. Eventually, the golden grass yields to a field of cerulean flowers. They seem to glow as they are guided to and fro by the wind. You wonder if they are magic, perhaps related to the Carian royal family?

“I have forgotten the beauty of this place.” Messmer’s quiet voice plucks you from your thoughts.

You turn your head to look back at him. He smiles down at you and presses a light kiss to your forehead. You hum in response.

“I’ve only been here once. I was fighting through it, so I really couldn’t stop and enjoy the scenery.”

“Since thou hast expressed thy interest in returning here, I requested that my knights clear this place of any who would pose a threat to thee.”

“You did that for me?”

“Of course,” he responds calmly. “Thy safety remains a priority of mine.”

“Thank you, Messmer.” 

“Gratitude is not necessary, beloved.” 

Belladonna stops at a sparkling coast with deep blue water. Messmer dismounts, then assists you off the horse. Bending down, he offers you his arm, which you take gladly. He leads you towards the coast, the water rippling as it crashes over the sand. Flowers mimic the waves and sway in the breeze. You notice that there is a blanket sitting among the blue flowers with a basket. You look up at Messmer whose face is bright red.

“Did you plan this?” You ask incredulously.

“Certainly not alone. Rellana assisted me.” He lets go of your arm and sits on the blanket. You follow his movements.

“What could’ve possibly made you ask Rellana for help?” You giggle and adjust your dress.

“I wanted thee happy, but I was unsure of what to do. Thou requested to return to the Cerulean Coast and I wished to make the occasion special.” He toys with the blanket and avoids your gaze.

“What did Rellana tell you?”

“She instructed me to bring thou here for a picnic. I hope it is to thine liking.”

You move forwards and cup Messmer’s cheek in your palm. He gives you a bashful smile. “I love this. Thank you, my love.”

He exhales and kisses your palm, visibly relaxing. “When Rellana offered her advice, I held the belief that this would not suit thy tastes. I am glad I am wrong.”

“You worry too much.”

“I am aware, beloved.” He reaches over towards the basket and opens it. “I requested rowa fruit pastries be made for thee.”

Your mouth waters at the sweet smell drifting from the basket. Messmer hands you one and you carefully unwrap it and take a bite. It’s perfectly fluffy and sweet. You offer a bite to Messmer, and he shakes his head, not willing to take your treat away from you. You huff and refuse to budge. Rolling his eye, he takes a small bite and you smile, triumphant.

You finish your pastry and look out at the ocean. The crashing waves provide a soothing sound and you can practically feel Messmer’s tension burning away. His serpents nap on the soft blanket, curled into one another.

You lean forwards and pluck a glowing blue flower from the ground. The stems are long enough to weave together. Looking back at Messmer, you realize that this shade of blue would look perfect among his deep red locks.

“My love?” You call to him in a sing-song voice.

“Yes?” He knows you’re up to no good when you sound like that.

“Can you go gather some more flowers for me? I think 30 should be enough.”

“Thou wouldst have me pick flowers?” You understand where he’s coming from. As a hardened war veteran and powerful demigod, picking flowers was probably not on his list of things to do.

You shoot him a pleading look. “Please? For me?”

“Fine, but I shall never again hear the false notions that I do not love thee.”

“Thank you!” Even though he seems upset, you know he’s just faking. He could never be upset with you.

He gets up and gets to work gently plucking flowers from the ground. As most things are, they are comically small in his hands. You begin to gather some near you, stretching your arms to pick them. You create a small pile, delicately draping the flowers over one another without sullying the serene glow of the blue petals.

In a few minutes, Messmer returns to you holding a bundle of blue flowers. He sets them next to your pile and sits back down. You give him a quick peck on the lips and utter a quick ‘thank you,’ then begin weaving the stems together. You work on Messmer’s crown first, as his will take more flowers.

He watches your nimble fingers thread the flowers together. Your beautiful face pinches slightly in concentration, and you move strands of hair away from your face as you work. He moves closer to you and holds your hair away from your face, helping you work faster and more efficiently. The ruby earrings adorning your ears sparkle in the dim sunlight. He admires you and wonders how he ever got so lucky.

Soon, you finish his crown and present it triumphantly. He gives you a loving smile.

“For me, beloved?”

“Mhmm,” you say, placing it on his head. The blue glow creates a halo and compliments his red hair well. He looks stunningly handsome. 

“A consort is deserving of a crown.” He gestures to you.

“I’m making mine next.”

“Wouldst thou teach me how to make these crowns?” He scoots beside you.

Your eyes light up and you nod. Grabbing two flowers, you show him how to weave them together tightly, so they remain locked in place. He watches you work and when you hand him two more flowers, he does his best to mimic you. It is harder for him to tighten them, as his hands are much larger than yours, but he tries his best. Once he’s weaved them together, you tighten them.

With you watching and patiently helping him, he eventually creates a circular crown of bright blue flowers. 

“Aren’t they fun to make?” You beam up at him.

“Fun, yet frustrating for my hands are much larger than thy nimble ones. But I enjoyed making it. I had the most wondrous teacher.” His gold eye shimmers at you.

He lifts the crown and you lower your head. He places it delicately on your head and smooths your hair down. When you look up at him smiling, he finds himself marveling at your beauty. The Cerulean Coast pales in comparison to your sweet smile.

“Beautiful.” He breathes the word, in awe of you. He pulls you closer to him, pressing a loving kiss to your soft lips. He sighs, at peace once more, thanks to you. 

He’d have to remember to thank Rellana after this.

[casuallyobssessed]

Closer - Jack Traven x Fem!Reader ❥ 1.5k Words

A/N: Request written for @scarlettspectra based on her post. This was so much fun to write, thank you for sending this in!! Divider creds to /viviansturns/ !

Requests for fics and mood boards are open!

Warnings: Oral Sex (f receiving), P in V (implied), Domestic Fluff and Smut, Shower Sex

Archive of Our Own Link

You've been in your new, ocean front home for a grand total of twenty four hours, and you've spent at least half of them under (or on top of) Jack Traven.

During your road trip to your new home, Jack insisted that once you got everything set up, he was going to fuck you on every piece of furniture in the house. He always makes good on his promises. It's one of the things you love about him. 

Except this time, that promise would be pretty hard to follow through with. At least, for a while, anyway.

Jack’s saved cities, diffused bombs, and jumped onto speeding buses, but apparently, coordinating a cross-country move was too complicated for him to manage on his own. 

“They sent the rest of the furniture to Washington, Jack. Washington,” You sigh, rubbing your temple and hanging up the phone. 

He shrugs and grins like it’s no big deal. 

“Hey, you said you wanted adventure. I just figured we’d start with minimalist living,” He says, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. 

Off in the corner, the dog is asleep, curled up on a nest of packing paper. The sound of the ocean waves outside overlap the soft snores coming from his little body. As perfect as this moment feels, there's a nagging in the back of your head. This move to the opposite coast was supposed to help reduce your stress. Instead, you feel like you've doubled it.

Before you can get too lost in your thoughts, Jack’s mouth is on your shoulder, kissing up the side of your neck, and nibbling on your earlobe. 

“You know what this means, right?” He asks.

“That we’re sleeping on a mattress like broke college kids?”

“That we’ve been given a week of uninterrupted sex without the risk of breaking any furniture,” He smiles wide, and you can feel his grin against your skin as he peppers kisses down your neck.

-

Immediately after that phone call, Jack carried you into the bedroom and plopped you down onto the mattress laying on the floor. He murmured something about trying to help you relax while he was pulling your underwear down. Your brain finally turned off when he dropped to his knees and ate you out until you saw stars.

Following him desperately fucking you, you indulged in a well-deserved cuddle session. After moving boxes all day, you both needed a short nap tangled up in each other. 

-

You awake after about an hour to a whine and a cold nose pressing against your hand. You open your eyes to your dog staring you down, looking very antsy. 

“Babe…” You lean back into Jack, gently nudging his thigh with your hand, “Hey.”

“Mm’yeah?” He grumbles into your hair, squeezing you tighter around your waist.

“Did you take the dog out earlier?” 

“Wha-?” Jack shifts behind you and sits up, “No, I forgot.”

“Jaaack,” you groan, “He’s probably about to go all over the floor.”

Jack flops back on the mattress with a dramatic sigh, “Can’t he just hold it for a bit longer?”

“You wanna risk a pee puddle on the one thing we have in the house?” You reach for your clothes but Jack's hand shoots out to stop you.

“Don't you dare put those back on,” His voice lowers, “I'm not done with you, yet.” 

Suddenly, you don't want him to go anywhere. You roll over to face him. He kisses your cheek and then hops up off the mattress, shoving his underwear and jeans on. You're almost ready to yank him back down beside you as you watch him get dressed. The way his body moves so effortlessly seriously does something to you. His muscles ripple under the skin of his back as he pulls his shirt on. 

Jack's not insanely ripped like a bodybuilder or anything, but he's very well defined due to his job requirements. His arms and torso are basically carved out of skin-toned marble. You sigh dreamily as you watch him leave the bedroom, your dog skittering after him. 

He makes you feel like a teenager again with the way you have to shove your face into the closest pillow and scream once you hear the front door shut behind him. 

-

When Jack comes back in, you're waiting for him, still undressed and laying down. He enters the bedroom with cheeks tinged pink from the ocean breeze and the dog's leash still in his hand. 

“All good,” He says casually, like he didn’t just leave you here dying in your own thirst.

Jack tosses the leash onto one of the boxes stacked by the door and walks over to where you're laying. You pat the bed beside you and look at him as seductively as you can muster. He barely gets his shirt over his head before you're pulling him back down on top of you. 

“No more interruptions.”

“Unless that dog learns how to talk, we’re in the clear,” He laughs, giving you a smile that sets your heart on fire.

-

After another round of quick, clingy sex, you're both reduced to sweaty, sticky messes. You already know you're going to have to change the sheets that you just put on here, but that's a problem for later you. 

Right now, you're determined to go test out your new shower set up with Jack. You wriggle out from under him with a sigh and slowly pad toward the bathroom, still completely bare. Jack watches you go, his eyes follow the sway of your hips like he’s hypnotized. You glance back over your shoulder and give him a little smirk. 

“You coming, Officer Traven?”

He groans like it physically hurts him, “Oh, yes ma’am.”

You roll your eyes, but laugh anyway, disappearing behind the bathroom door. Steam begins to rise as you twist the knobs, testing the water. It’s hot and strong and perfect. You step in and tilt your head back, letting the spray hit your face. The second your eyes close, you hear the door creak open. 

You turn to see him shutting the door and then eagerly stepping into the shower like a man on a mission. His hands are on you in seconds, sliding over your wet skin, pressing you gently against the cold tile.

“Fuck,” he breathes, “You’re too much.”

You grin, tugging him closer, “But you love it.”

“I do,” he growls into your neck, “God, I do.”

Jack presses a firm kiss to your neck before he steps back and reaches for the body wash, but you stop him.

“Let me,” You whisper.

Good thing you unpacked the bathroom boxes earlier, otherwise this would’ve been a lot less convenient. You pour a generous amount of body wash into your hand and begin working it over his skin, slowly and deliberately. You start with your hands on his chest, watching the way his muscles flex under your fingers. He bites his bottom lip and you can see that he's already hard again, but he doesn’t move. You make your way down, soaping up his stomach, his hips, rubbing your hand low, but only just enough to tease.

“Baby, please,” he grits out, voice rough, “Don’t tease me.”

“Tease you? Why, I’d never,” You look up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

Your hands move lower again with a little more pressure this time, and Jack’s head tips back under the spray. He looks wrecked in the best way while water runs down his neck, over his shoulders, trailing down his abs. He’s breathing hard. He's desperate, and that's exactly how you like him.

But then, he sinks to his knees. Water rushes over his shoulders as he hooks your leg over one of them, hands gripping your thighs as he anchors himself. His mouth finds you quickly. His tongue works you open, slow at first, but then moves faster. He groans when you start to grind against his mouth.

“Jack,” you gasp, bracing yourself against the wall, “Fuck… Jack!”

He doesn’t let up until your legs are shaking and your moans echo off the tile. When he finally pulls back, he's breathless as he licks his lips. Jack rises from his position below you and pulls you into a deep kiss, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. 

You don’t know how long you stay in the shower kissing and touching each other like you’ve got nowhere else in the world to be. Eventually, you rest your head against his shoulder as the water still falls around you both.

“Remind me again what we were supposed to be doing today?” you murmur into his skin. 

Jack presses a soft kiss to your temple and wraps his arms around you. 

“More unpacking,” he says. “But honestly? I like this better.”

[thetiedyesheep]

On the topic of GITM (Ghost in the Machine by @venomous-qwille)

We remember GITM starting off as a little thread in the Palooza, we didn't really notice it until it was absolutely everywhere, in Magmas, in art channels, in drabbles. Everywhere. And eventually, we got into it. Just like a lot of people, we really enjoyed it and the community and whatnot. And now that we're here, and shit's hit the fan, just like a lot of people involved, we have something to say.

What this has turned into is disgusting on all accounts. And you should be fucking ashamed.

Thank you to this post that urged us to give our side of the story. This will get a little discombobulated as a switch happened mid-writing.

First thing's first. We are a system. We are autistic, have ADHD, have trauma and anxiety. We're neurospicy, as are the majority of the people that have regrettably been thrown into this drama.

We are also ones who have been mostly lurking, sitting on the side lines, observing everything and keeping our mouth shut. We have been a part of various different servers surrounding GITM and its creator.

We'll put a pin in that for now, but what we want to address is how you and your little entitled group made us feel as a system and as an (ex) member of the discord server.

In the beginning when we started out in the server, it was relatively small, and we can't believe now that we actually looked up to Qwille and their little clique, and by definition that is the only way I can formulate it. As time passed on and shit started happening, we had announcements, and master posts, and the mods constantly commenting on how to be, what we are and allowed to do. And I'm not referring to "no sexual content, no being mean to each other" bla bla bla (which is ironic, and you can read more on in the post we've linked above). But as a fictive-heavy system, we felt increasingly uncomfortable with talking with PluralKit, and letting our alters talk in that server, cause any time we'd have a fictive from GITM fronting, it would be ill-received and looked down upon by the entitled group. It would be "misconstruing the characters" and what not, when we thought that Qwille clearly knew that fictives were not the fucking character. Now we know otherwise, that they are hypocritical, two-faced, ignorant and a coward.

Before shit really started to hit the fan, we left that server and every other small (usually emoji) server connected to that fan fiction for our own comfort and protection, and how much it would drain us, or make us paranoid that we were being watched, overseen and controlled. But despite that, we still to this day see the repercussions of the shit you and your group have done. Made fun of people, bullied people, fought over something you know nothing about and INSISTED that everyone else was in the wrong and your answer was the only correct one. And it didn't help that you have all of your yes-men to feed you into these insane and harmful delusions.

And now we come back to the people surrounding us. Our friends have been constantly feeling drained, and vent to us about the shit you pull, and the ignorance that goes with it. People are crying, getting depressed, hurting themselves and suffering because of your actions, and all we could do is give SOME sort of comfort. Other system friends of ours had to hide their alters that otherwise would've just liked to EXIST like EVERYONE ELSE, just because they were a fictive of your fucked up story, and you would rather have somebody supress their own existence so your stupid story wouldn't get spoiled, or whatever fucked up excuse you had. Oh and don't get us started on the sexual aspect of this shit. A very specific server that as of now doesn't exist, that YOU were a part of, ASKED to be a part of AND EXPLICITLY approved of. And you gradually pulled yourself away, took everything back and blocked those involved, demonized the group and didn't have the GAWL to communicate with the mods of that server who were open for communication, MORE than reasonably understanding with you, and you simply ignored them and brushed it off to the side, hoping the whole thing would just magically go away and you could continue gossiping with your little group about how pathetic and low-life everyone else is.

Well you've brushed it under the rug. A lot of shit under the rug. And now here it is in all its fucking glory, bearing its fangs at you in the most ironic fashion. You wanted to keep this shit on discord, and instead you've caused enough discord for it to blow up on Tumblr. An applause to you. You fucked up, and you deserve this.

Have a nice day and choke on a Sandblaster.

[naughtyneganjdm]

Threads of Desire - Chapter 1

Summary: After dreaming of becoming a big time fashion designer, Y/N finds herself miserable working under her best friend Maggie Greene after being in her shadow for years. Maggie has everything that she ever wanted. The job she always longed for and she's dating the man of her dreams, Negan Smith. Christmas time is said to be the most magical time of the year. Will she finally escape Maggie's shadow and get everything she ever wanted or will she realize that life may have been perfect all along with her loyal friend Daryl Dixon at her side?

Characters: (in chapter 1) Negan Smith, the reader (OC), Maggie Greene, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61111030/chapters/156141661

Warnings: Alternate universe, swearing, angst, third person reader, female reader, reader wants to be a fashion designer, New York City is where they live, Maggie is kind of a bitch in this (sorry Maggie fans), dad Negan, Christmas Themed, etc.

Notes: This Christmas story is going to be a little different than my past ones. The two main love interests in this story are Negan and Daryl. This might draw some Neggie shippers and I do want to warn you while Negan and Maggie are together in this, their relationship isn't the healthiest. I want to put that out there ahead of time. Plus, Maggie isn't the nicest of people in this story. Pre-warning.

Y/N as always meaning your name or whatever name you want to put in for this story! Thanks for checking it out! I will try to update this as often as possible on days that I don't post Love's Second Chance.

Most people strive to have the job of their dreams. A job where you could go and a full days’ worth of work would feel like nothing because you loved what you were doing that much. That was supposed to be the case for Y/N. After going to school for years to be a fashion designer, this was promised to be the job that she had always dreamt about. That’s at least what her best friend Maggie had promised her when she took the job. Maggie and Y/N had gone to school together. Even though the two of them were very different, they seemed to make good friends. At least that’s what Y/N tried to tell herself all the time. A lot of people had actually questioned how Y/N continued to have a friendship with Maggie because others viewed it as a one-sided friendship. People claimed Maggie was self-centered and selfish where Y/N would do absolutely anything for her, but it wouldn’t go both ways.

Of course Y/N would always defend Maggie. Suggesting that people didn’t know Maggie like she did. And she always used this job for example as to why Maggie was a good friend. There was often a few key details that she would leave out. That was because she knew that if she told anyone about it, they would insist Y/N drop her as a friend immediately. The problem was? During their college years together, Y/N had grown incredibly close to Maggie’s family. During those years, Maggie’s father had grown very sick and had asked Y/N to watch over Maggie because she needed some direction. Of course, she had promised to take care of Maggie for her father Hershel. Which meant she felt responsible for Maggie in some fashion after Hershel died.

The unfortunate thing is that people were right. Maggie did take advantage of their relationship. During their school years, Y/N was always the better student. Helping Maggie get through her classes. Where Y/N thrived, Maggie barely just made it through. And right when they were about to graduate, Y/N was doing everything she could to get an internship at the company Vixen. It was the hottest, rising fashion design company in New York. All throughout college, Y/N had admired the man in charge of the company. Guy Vixen was her inspiration for actually becoming a fashion designer. She loved his work and dreamt to be like him when she finally got her foot in the business.

Maggie on the other hand? She really had no direction. It seemed like Maggie was a drifter, going where the world would take her. But they both applied for an internship at Vixen. It was Y/N’s dream to work there and be able to work beside Guy Vixen. Maggie did it just for the hell of it. When Y/N was applying, Maggie was there. So it just seemed to work itself out that way. Originally? Neither one of them thought they would get a callback. It was just a dream scenario that was highly unlikely.

But? Almost immediately Maggie had gotten a call back. Guy Vixen himself wanted her to come in and do an interview with him. Y/N never received a call. It wasn’t until after she started working at Vixen that Y/N had learned that Guy never looked at people’s art first. Talent at the time didn’t matter to him. What mattered to him was someone’s social media presence. The kind of impact that they had to the world. At the time they applied? Y/N had a smaller following because she focused mainly on representing her art. Maggie had a much larger social media presence. It didn’t feature her art in any way, but it was more of a lifestyle presence. So Maggie received that call back not because of her designs, but because her personal social media account had a significant amount of followers.

Guy had decided after looking at Maggie’s social media that he liked her look. And after his interview with her? He hired her on immediately. Not as an intern, but as an actual paid employee. Back then? Y/N had gotten upset. Not because Maggie had gotten the job, but because Maggie had ‘accidentally’ made a mistake that helped her in getting that job. When Maggie went to the interview, she grabbed Y/N’s portfolio instead of her own swearing that she had confused the two. According to her, Maggie was late for the interview and just grabbed the first portfolio she saw assuming that it was hers. Because of Maggie’s look along with Y/N’s designs, Maggie had easily gotten the job.

When Y/N approached Maggie about her showing Y/N’s work as her own, Maggie insisted that she didn’t realize it until after Guy had looked at the portfolio and handed it back to her. Something about that never sat right with Y/N. Maggie explained that after Guy insisted on hiring her that she would have looked stupid if she told Guy that the designs weren’t hers. So she didn’t tell him.

After that happened? Their relationship was on shaky water. Because of that, Maggie managed to get Y/N a job at the company as well. Promised Y/N that she would be in a job where they were partners. Swore up and down that Y/N would be an important part of the company where she would be able to grow. And threw the idea of working beside Guy Vixen in her face. Of course, she would want to take that opportunity. It was her idol after all. When Maggie convinced her to take the job, she hinted that it might be possible that Y/N would be able to do even better than Maggie in the future.

Before going into the job, Maggie labeled them partners. After she accepted the job? Y/N realized that she wasn’t Maggie’s partner. No. She was Maggie’s personal assistant. And even though that infuriated her, Guy Vixen was dangled in her face. Maybe there would be that chance that he would see how hard she was working and she’d get hired on too.

Four years later? That never happened. Guy after this long didn’t even know who the hell she was and Y/N was in the same exact position she was when she got here in the business. Remaining loyal and continuing to be Maggie’s personal assistant. Guy didn’t even know her name. Nor did he look at her more than once or twice. Truthfully? Y/N felt invisible.  

In those four years? Maggie had become incredibly successful. Her position at the company was a highly sought after one and she was doing very well for herself. But? The thing that people didn’t know was that Y/N often was the reason behind Maggie’s success. Most of the time, Y/N had helped Maggie with her designs. Stirring up ideas and helping Maggie to put the final touches on things. Even though Maggie was a terrible friend, that promise Y/N had made to Hershel years ago lingered in her mind. She didn’t want to make Maggie look bad. Plus? If Maggie remained in the company, there was always a chance that someone could see that Y/N had talent too. Though? After four years, Y/N should have realized that was never happening.

What that meant for Y/N was she often did the work that Maggie didn’t want to do for the company. Which was pretty much everything except for the public events and the parties that Maggie was meant to attend. Maggie wanted the publicity and the attention. But she didn’t want to spend the time working on the things that needed to be done. Even when Maggie would have interviews for certain magazines or news sources, it was always Y/N preparing her beforehand. Creating mock interviews and answers for Maggie to memorize. And they would have to work on it for an ungodly amount of time. Just so Maggie didn’t fuck up.

At the end of the day? Y/N knew that made her pathetic. And she understood that. But she had those hopes that one day she would stand out to Guy. At first she just allowed herself to stay hidden, but over the last year or two she had been doing things in attempt to get him to notice her. Hoping that he would finally see her as a person and not some random stranger standing in his way in the middle of the hallway at the office. That hope that she would one day become something just stuck with her, so she never gave up. Hoping that one day a miracle would happen and she’d finally get credit for the designer that she was. The talent she was capable of sharing.

Today had been a very shitty day already. And it was only ten in the morning.

Y/N was exhausted. She had started work at seven. But there was so much to do before Maggie showed up in the mornings. There was almost a list of chores that would have to be done that Maggie put Y/N in charge of, every single day. If she didn’t get them done? Maggie would often have a shitty day and that wasn’t something that Y/N was keen on. Because if Maggie had a bad day? That meant that Y/N had an even shittier day. So there was never time to sit and relax. Enjoying the day only happened after work hours.

Since they had lived in the city, Maggie had fallen in love with a coffee shop that she had found the week she had gotten the job at Vixen. So that meant every morning Y/N was expected to go out and get Maggie her favorite latte at this coffee shop. Being Maggie’s personal assistant? Yeah, that pretty much made Y/N her slave. And today? The coffee shop was running behind. So that meant she had to wait in an incredibly long line before Y/N could even get to the office. Maggie’s order was also very specific, so it wasn’t like it was something that she could just get quickly. The biggest problem though? This shop was five blocks away. That meant it put Y/N completely behind on her duties for the day. Which meant she had to rush through the New York City streets once she got the latte. And it was snowing. So not only did she have to fight prime time traffic to walk through, it was so much worse because of the weather. Which meant by the time she got back to the building, she was soaked. So not only was she tired and stressed, but she was also freezing. In her rush to the office, Y/N had almost been hit by a taxi that wasn’t paying attention to pedestrians. And that made her drop her coffee so she had nothing to warm up with either.

Rushing to Maggie’s office was hard. If it wasn’t the traffic of the people on the streets or the cars, it was waiting for the elevators to get where they needed to go. The office was in one of the tallest towers in New York where they were on a higher level. Because Maggie was one of the higher up employees, there was a special elevator that she got to take that would avoid all the stops. However, for Y/N who had just a simple job with the company? That meant she had to wait at the community elevator. And that took forever too. Being smashed into a very tiny space with many people wasn’t exactly her favorite thing to do every day.

Normally, Maggie got to the office anywhere between ten and eleven. Usually, it was around quarter to eleven. So there was a hope that Maggie still hadn’t gotten back yet. Once she reached the top floor, Y/N was quick to make her way out of the elevator toward Maggie’s office. Thankfully when she reached it, she saw that it was empty which gave her a huge sigh of relief. Most everyone in the office was always busy with their own things, so they wouldn’t have noticed Y/N coming in late. They probably rarely even noticed her in the first place.

Setting Maggie’s latte aside, Y/N gathered the things that Maggie would need for the day to make sure that she was prepared. There was an important meeting that Maggie had to attend this afternoon. Once those items were together in one place, Y/N sat down and started to go through Maggie’s messages, writing down the notes that she knew would be important. When she got to the e-mails, the sound of the door to the office being pushed open was heard. That did bring a certain amount of dread to Y/N, but she didn’t pull away from what she was doing. Still being incredibly focused, Y/N just kept scrolling through.

“I have almost everything set up for you,” she felt rushed, wishing that she was done by now. Her face flushed over with a warmth and her heart started racing. Truthfully? She fully expected Maggie to start having one of her shit fits. “I am so sorry that it took me this long, but you wouldn’t believe the day that I have been having. I was…”

Mid-sentence, Y/N felt the strength of someone pulling at the arm of her chair. A shocked breath fell from her lips when the weight of someone much smaller than her jumped into her arms. Scrambling to keep them from falling, Y/N pulled them close. Their arms hooked around Y/N’s shoulders tightly. A giggle filled the air when the familiar bright green eyes of the little girl in her arms pulled back.  

“Jordyn, you scared me half to death,” she exclaimed, the first smile she had all day tugging at her lips. Wrapping her arms back around the eight-year-old, Y/N gave her a big bear hug. This little girl was someone that Y/N had met when she was just a baby. Brushing her fingers through Jordyn’s dark hair, Y/N felt a sense of joy for the first time today. “My gosh. You know, it is so good to see you! It’s been way too long. I almost couldn’t take it.”

“It’s been three days,” Jordyn reminded Y/N with a tiny laugh when she pulled back from the hug. Hopping down from the chair, Jordyn ran back around the desk into the arms of her father, Negan Smith. Picking Jordyn up, Negan groaned when he balanced her in his one free arm that he had. Stealing a quick glance at Negan had a lump developing in Y/N’s throat. “Daddy, I scared her.”

“I saw that baby girl,” Negan smirked, nuzzling his nose in against his daughters. “That’s not very nice.”

“Oh, that’s not her fault,” Y/N stood up from the chair that she was seated in to playfully tickle at Jordyn’s sides. A boisterous laugh escaped Jordyn with her burying her head at the crook of Negan’s neck. “You know three days is just way too long for me not to see you.”

“I agree,” Jordyn wiggled in Negan’s arms, her green eyes locking with Y/N’s when she kicked her feet about. “We should make this a daily thing.”

“A daily thing? Well, I wouldn’t complain about that, but I don’t know how your father would feel,” Y/N winked, her gaze finally meeting Negan’s. In that moment Negan appeared to be smiling at that interaction the girl were sharing together enjoying the way that they were talking. There appeared to be a sense of awe in his hazel eyes. “What are the two of you doing here?”  

“Daddy got breakfast and coffee for Maggie,” Jordyn explained gagging at the idea of coffee, managing to get Negan to set her back down on the ground. Looking to Negan’s other hand, Y/N’s eyes fell upon the drink carrier that he had along with the small bag that was sitting at the center of it. Lowering back down into the desk chair, Y/N nodded her head and attempted to give half of her attention back to the e-mails hoping to finish them before Maggie got here. “Daddy got me a hot chocolate. They added peppermint to it and because they said I was special they added mini marshmallows. It’s really good. They even drew Santa on the side of my cup for me.”

“No way!” Y/N worked hard to give the same kind of energy back that Jordyn was giving her, just like she had always done. Jordyn tugged at Negan’s jacket, holding her hand up for her cup and Negan set down the carrier that he had. Putting the bag beside it, Negan handed Jordyn carefully her cup and Jordyn came over to show Y/N. Observing the cup Y/N’s got wide and she wanted to look as impressed as Jordyn clearly was about the hot chocolate. “That is so cool!”

“I thought so too,” Jordyn moved in beside Y/N to look at the screen observing all the words that were on it. Behind her big green eyes, Y/N could see confusion. “Whatcha doing?”

“Just finishing up going through some of Maggie’s e-mails for her,” Y/N explained, clicking away her e-mails and turning to face Jordyn again to give her the attention she deserved. Really, she could get back to them at any time whereas she actually enjoyed the time that she spent with Jordyn.  

“Where’s Maggie? Shouldn’t that be her job?” Negan’s deep, raspy voice stammered as he made his way to the other side of the desk to take a seat on the edge of it. Yeah, it was Maggie’s job, but Y/N really wondered if Maggie knew how to do it. Turning to Negan, Y/N felt her heartrate quicken. Just the sight of Negan took her breath away. With his beautiful hazel eyes. His extremely prominent dimples. Along with his charming smile and chiseled jawline. His facial hair was salt and pepper colored. His dark hair was slightly messy from when she assumed he pulled his hat off from coming inside from the snow. And then there was his cologne. God, he smelled good.

“She should be here soon,” Y/N forced herself to look away from Negan not wanting to gawk. Motioning Jordyn to wait, Y/N got up from where she was seated to go for her bag. Coming back, Y/N lowered back into her seat and started digging into her bag. Pulling something out, she went to hand it to Jordyn. Holding it out had Jordyn’s eyes growing big. “I saw this the other day at the Christmas market in Bryant Park. I thought you would like it.”

“Oh my God,” Jordyn grabbed the nutcracker that Y/N had picked up for her and turned it to face Y/N. It was a very ugly nutcracker which was something that Jordyn had been collecting ever since she was little. Nut crackers that no one else would want to buy. “Daddy look! It’s so ugly!”

“I see that honey,” Negan laughed, reaching out to grab the present that Y/N had gotten for Jordyn. Sweeping his finger over the nutcracker made a low rumble of an amused sound fall from his throat. “What do you say?”

“Thank you Y/N,” Jordyn hopped up to give Y/N another hug. Squeezing tightly to Y/N this time, burying her head against the side of Y/N’s neck. “You’ve added more to my collection than anyone. You always find the ugliest ones.”

“I don’t know if I should be proud of that or not,” Y/N teased, patting faintly at Jordyn’s back while she held onto her. “I just know how much you love them, so I’m always sure to keep an eye out for them every Christmas.”

“You’re too kind. You know that, right?” Negan stammered from where he was seated on the edge of the desk, his hand reaching out to place in over Y/N’s shoulder. It had her turning to look at him with Jordyn still in her arms. “You should really come over to see her collection at some point. We have these shelves that we made special for her to display them. She’s very proud of it.”

“It looks amazing,” Jordyn leaned back, throwing her hands out in the air dramatically. “You gotta see it Y/N.”

“One day, I’d love to,” Y/N winked noticing the way that Negan was stroking at her shoulder before giving it a firm squeeze again.

“I know you see Jordyn all the time, but it’s been a while since I’ve gotten to really see you. You know, other than in passing when we’re switching off Jordyn. Too long really,” Negan admitted, a muscle in his jaw flexing when he let his hand drop at his side. “I used to see you all the time when you and Maggie were living together in that apartment. Ever since she moved into her new apartment in East Village, I rarely see you anymore.”

“Yeah,” Y/N swallowed down hard feeling her chest aching at the thought of Negan. Being around Negan was very hard because this was another example of what Maggie had done to be a bad friend. And everyone close to Y/N knew it. Everyone except Negan of course.

Back when they were in school, Y/N wasn’t completely sold with fashion design when she started her first year. Fashion design was something she had always told herself that she wanted. But when she was younger, she loved making movies. It was something that she had found incredibly fun and did as a hobby. And she’d do it all. Create the costumes. Make the scripts. Film. Edit. Act. Everything. It was an art that also came easy to her. Just for so long, Y/N thought she enjoyed fashion design more. So when she went to college, she made a promise to her family that she would test out the idea of maybe getting a film degree if fashion design didn’t go through. Which led her to Negan.

Negan was originally Y/N’s film professor that she had taken a class with in her first year. That was eight years ago. At the time? Y/N hadn’t really heard much about Negan. It was an intro class and most of the boys that were in the class were losing their minds before Negan got to class about who their professor was. But it wasn’t because of what he did for the film industry. No, it was because Negan was originally a professional baseball player. And apparently a very good one. For years, he thrived playing that sport up until he got a really terrible injury where he was forced to retire young. Using the money that Negan had made through the years, Negan decided to focus his time after that on creating films. He had the resources and the money to do it, so he just went for it. And? He ended up being very good at it. What he had done had caught the attention of some big names in Hollywood. Which led to Negan winning multiple awards before he even reached the age of thirty. After meeting the love of his life and getting married, Negan had settled down. Decided to work less on films and put a lot of his effort into teaching. It meant that he got to be with his wife and spend more time with her.

From the moment that Negan walked into that classroom on the first day, Y/N had the biggest crush on him. Everything about him appealed to her. Negan wasn’t like most of the professors that she had. Right from the start he had the mouth of a sailor which made him slightly more fun than the others. And he was so relaxed in the way that he taught. He took things seriously, but he made things enjoyable for people. He dressed casual, he’d interact with his students and get to know them. He was a fun professor and it didn’t hurt that he was incredibly good looking.  

Of course, there was an age gap between them, but her crush was innocent in the beginning. Negan was married. And he talked about his wife all the time. Almost every class somehow his wife Lucille would be brought into some kind of discussion. And he was so excited to talk about their daughter that they had just had. That’s probably what also made him more appealing to Y/N. How good of a father and a husband he seemed to be. She had never seen a man love something so much and it just showed in everything that he did. She found Negan very sweet and she was charmed by him.

During those years, that was the class that she looked forward to the most. And she did amazing in that class because she wanted to stand out to Negan. During that first year, they would talk all the time. Even hours after class. About the film industry. Her future plans. Negan’s family and his past. They clicked really fast. A few times after class, Negan had even introduced her to Lucille and Jordyn when they would drop by to see him. And in some classes? Negan happily brought Jordyn in with him, strapping her to his chest in her baby carrier while he taught. It was adorable.

So even though her heart was set on fashion design, she kept taking Negan’s classes because she enjoyed them so much. During the second year at school, Negan’s wife had ended up getting pancreatic cancer. Unfortunately it took her quick and Negan was devastated by the loss of his wife. He would have meltdowns at school to the point she started helping him out with his classes. And when he wouldn’t show up to classes, she would come to help him with Jordyn. That’s why she was so close to Negan and Lucille’s daughter. Jordyn was still very young when her mother died, so Y/N helped to raise Jordyn.

Eventually with her help, Negan managed to pull himself out of his depression. There was one discussion in particular that made Negan get his shit together when she made him realize that while he was in pain, Jordyn needed him. And he had to fight for her. After that time period and the dedication Y/N had put into helping Negan, they became super close. Closer than they probably should have been.

At the time, she thought they flirted constantly. They spent most days together sharing meals and taking care of Jordyn together. Jordyn had latched on pretty quickly to Y/N and Negan would pay Y/N to help take care of his daughter even though she didn’t want his money. Most months, she would collect the money and then return it to one of Negan’s jackets when he wasn’t paying attention.

During her last year of college, Negan had convinced her to be his student teacher. Around that time she was seriously considering going into film by Negan’s suggestions. He always told her that she was too good to waste her time on fashion and he promised to help her in her career. During the years they spent time together, Negan never made a move on her. And she always assumed it was because she was his student. Maybe he was just being professional. There was a hope that when she graduated, something more would have come from their relationship. There had been a few times where they had near kisses and she thought they were on the verge of having something develop between them.

One day Maggie came to see Y/N while she was working late with Negan checking papers. At the time Maggie knew how much Y/N liked Negan. Hell, she was pretty much in love with Negan. And Maggie had already met Jordyn. Especially with how often Jordyn and Y/N were actually together. But that didn’t stop Maggie from flirting with Negan the moment she entered that room. At the time, Y/N hadn’t thought much about it because even though Negan was flirting back, that really didn’t mean anything. Negan flirted with pretty much everyone. That was just the kind of personality that he had.

A few weeks later, Negan showed up to Y/N’s apartment that she shared with Maggie. There was a big bouquet of flowers in his hands. When she opened the door, her mind immediately made up all kinds of scenarios about how Negan finally realized how he felt about her and that’s why he was there. To confess his feelings for her. But instead? They were for Maggie. It devastated Y/N. After Negan left that day, Maggie promised she wouldn’t let it go any further because she knew how Y/N felt about Negan.

That promise lasted a whole three days before Y/N came home to the apartment she shared with Maggie to find Negan and Maggie having sex on the couch together. It broke her heart. The man she had been in love with over the last four years was smitten with her best friend and Maggie accomplished to snag the heart of Negan in less than a few days. After that? Her heart was broken. Maggie had done a lot of shitty things in the past, but never something this big.

More than anything Y/N wanted to run away, but she didn’t have the money to get an apartment in the city alone. So she stayed. Depression ate away at her and the passion she had for things were gone. Now she was being forced to listen to Maggie and Negan having sex all the time. And truthfully? That was so hard to take. Knowing that her best friend had landed the man that she had been in love with for four years. With Y/N being upset, Maggie tried to explain that she couldn’t help herself. Negan was just too charming and she fell hard for him. Swearing that Negan was relentless in trying to get with her. And in attempts to make Y/N feel better, Maggie insisted that Negan wasn’t really Y/N’s type anyways. That eventually she would find someone better.

So not only did Maggie get Y/N’s dream job, but she also got Y/N’s dream man too. Maggie and Negan had been dating now for over four years. And for four years, she watched the man she loved be hopelessly in love with her best friend. Even though so many times she wanted to run away, to finally give up on Maggie, the promise she made to Hershel always lingered over her head.

Now, she was Maggie’s personal assistant and she rarely saw Negan other than when she would drop Jordyn off or pick her up. Or if she had to run some kind of chore for Maggie that involved Negan. What used to be a friendship where they would hang out almost every day slowly drifted when Maggie started dating him.

“I mean it, I really miss seeing you. You should come over and we can have binge night with the little one. I’m sure she’s told you, but she’s started to get obsessed with supernatural television shows. And she’s had her eye on one for a while,” Negan winked at Jordyn before nudging faintly at Y/N’s shoulder. “I also got some cool video games that no one else will play with me. We used to play together all the time and I miss it.”

“What? Maggie doesn’t play video games with you?” Y/N wondered and immediately it drew a deep raspy laugh from Negan’s throat. Placing his hand in over the center of his chest, Negan’s nose wrinkled and he shook his head. “I’ll take that as a no?”

“That’s definitely a no,” Negan agreed with her, his dimples growing more visible with his laughter. “You know she hates that shit. Big time.”

“She always yells at daddy when he plays,” Jordyn informed Y/N with a sigh, heading over to the couch in Maggie’s office after snatching her nutcracker back from Negan. “She thinks there are better things he can do with his time.”

“Sounds like Maggie,” she admitted with a weak a smile noticing the way that Negan was staring down at her. “Is something wrong?”

“You looked soaked,” Negan replied back, outstretching his hand to touch at her hair to feel that it was wet beneath his fingertips. “What happened?”

“Oh, Maggie likes me to pick up a certain coffee for her in the morning,” she nodded toward the cup that was sitting on the desk. “It’s a shop about five blocks away. It just started snowing really bad, but I’ll be fine.”

“You’re gonna get sick,” Negan commented, getting up from the desk to pull his thick winter jacket off. Setting it aside for a minute, Negan started to pull off the red flannel shirt that he was wearing revealing a white t-shirt underneath. Motioning her to stand, she immediately shook her head and Negan hushed her. “Take the shirt off and put this on. It will keep you warm.”

“I shouldn’t,” she admitted looking to the shirt that Negan was offering her. Without further talking, Negan reached for her and pulled her up from the chair. Gasping out, she almost fell forward when Negan started to open the sweater jacket that she was wearing. Getting it off her, Negan motioned her to wait and headed over to the window where the heater was near it. Hanging it over the side, Negan moved back and motioned her to turn around. Thankfully she had been wearing an undershirt beneath that sweater. “Negan?”

“Hold your arms out,” he instructed her with a warmth flooding into her cheeks. Doing as she was told, she allowed him to pull his shirt up over her body and she let out a long sigh. Once it was on her, she immediately smelled his cologne that she had become heavily attracted to whenever she would smell it outside in public. Maybe it was because she was so attracted to Negan and that was his scent. Either way, the shirt smelled really nice and it was warm when she pulled it in closer to her. “Good?”

Instead of saying anything, she simply nodded. Turning her to face him, Negan caressed over her shoulders as if he was waiting to warm her up, “It would be really nice if you could join us for Christmas this year. I know that you’re gonna be alone and Maggie talked about it. I’d love having you come over to the house. Jordyn would love it too.”

“Yes! Very much so!” Jordyn agreed with her father, kicking her feet a bit and giving that same cheesy over the top smile that Negan would often give Y/N. Even though Jordyn had some of her mother’s features, there was so much of Negan inside of Jordyn. Both in her attitude and her physical appearance. “I have some presents for you.”

“You didn’t have to get me presents sweetheart,” she insisted with a frown, knowing that she felt strange about this whole situation.

“Of course I do,” Jordyn retorted with a firm shake of her head. “You help take care of me when daddy needs help. You always have. And you’re with me multiple times during the week. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Well that just won me over,” Y/N felt a warmth flood throughout her body. Heading over to the couch, she sat down next to Jordyn and squeezed her arm tightly around Jordyn’s shoulders. “You are so special. And I love you very much.”

“I love you too,” Jordyn hooked her arms around Y/N to squeeze her tightly in her embrace. Negan was watching them from afar with a weak smile tugging at his lips. Heading over toward them, he pushed his hands into his pockets and let out a long sigh. “Daddy says it all the time too. He doesn’t know what he would do without you.”

“I’m sure he would be just fine,” Y/N suggested since their relationship was nothing like it used to be since he started dating Maggie. The only thing she was to Negan was a prominent female figure in Jordyn’s life.  And even though they weren’t together, she was still very much helping him to raise Jordyn. “He has Maggie.”

“You and Maggie are vastly different,” Negan alerted her with a tip of his head. If only he meant that in a way that would actually mean something to her. That was something that Y/N had originally wished for from the beginning. “I can count on you. Maggie is…well she’s Maggie.”

“Am I hearing my name?” a voice interrupted their conversation and it drew Negan to look back over his shoulder to see that Maggie was entering the space. Moving through the office, Maggie reached her arm out to hook it around Negan’s shoulders when he turned to embrace her. Bringing their lips together in a lingering kiss, Maggie hummed against Negan’s lips and it forced Y/N to look away. There was always that sense of jealousy that lingered when Y/N saw the two of them together. “What were we talking about?”

“How different you and Y/N were,” Negan responded truthfully, his mouth hovering over Maggie’s. A smile tugged at his handsome features before he peppered a few more kisses over Maggie’s lips. “Mhmm, I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Maggie dragged her palms down over the center of Negan’s chest. Y/N looked to Jordyn who rolled her eyes and went back to playing with the present that Y/N had gotten her. “What are you doing here babe?”

“Jordyn and I decided to bring you some breakfast,” Negan answered, nodding over toward the bag that they had brought along with the coffee. “I guess it’s more so brunch now and it may be a little cold, but…”

“That was very sweet,” Maggie brushed her fingers through Negan’s short beard, lifting up just enough to nuzzle her nose against Negan’s.

“Although, I think Y/N went out to go get you coffee. So I can probably just give the coffee to Y/N so she has something to warm herself up,” Negan gazed back at Y/N sitting with Jordyn, but Maggie grabbed Negan’s chin firmly forcing him to look at her. Kissing him a few more times, Maggie was making sure to draw it out and it had Y/N’s heart pounding inside of her chest.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I think I would love your coffee way more than anything else,” Maggie released Negan and headed over toward the latte that Y/N had gotten for her. Holding it up, she stepped on the foot lever to get the trash to open. Dropping it in the trash had Y/N’s lips parting. She wanted to say something, but instead she bit her tongue when Maggie rubbed her hands together and moved to grab the coffee that Negan had gotten for her. Of course Maggie didn’t think to give her the latte because that wasn’t the way that Maggie thought. Taking a sip, Maggie paused and by the expression over her face, Y/N knew that Maggie hated the coffee. “This is fantastic. I’m so glad that you got it for me.”

“If that’s her liking it face, I’d hate to see what her face looked like when she hated something,” Jordyn lifted up to whisper in Y/N’s ear. Both of them giggled which drew Maggie’s attention to them. How close Y/N was to Jordyn was always something Maggie was uncomfortable with after she started dating Negan. Because Maggie never bonded with Jordyn like Y/N did.

“What are you wearing?” Maggie wondered, her eyes narrowing when she observed Y/N’s body slowly. Looking down, Y/N noticed that Maggie was talking about Negan’s flannel that she was wearing. Staring at it a moment of scrutiny. “Don’t let Guy catch you wearing that. He will throw you out for the day and I need you here.”

“She was cold. She got soaked being outside,” Negan pointed out in Y/N’s direction which had Maggie looking her over more thoroughly. “So I just gave her my shirt. I thought it would be better for her to be warm instead of having her freeze. The last thing that you want is your assistant getting pneumonia.”

Cringing, Y/N hated to hear Negan refer to her as Maggie’s assistant. That was what she was though. So maybe she needed to get over that. Maggie sold it to her as her ‘partner’ but she was just a glorified slave. Embarrassment flooded her veins. Four years ago Negan thought she was good enough to sell to film studios to hire her on. Now she was working as someone’s personal assistant. He probably thought she was pathetic. Then again, he probably really didn’t think about her much to begin with.

“You always have to be so logical,” Maggie muttered, stepping forward to reach out and palm in over the side of Negan’s face. His long eyelashes fluttered leaning in closer to her to meet her halfway. Humming against his lips, Maggie smiled and then back stepped toward her desk. In just the small amount of time with Maggie being there, she had made it very obvious to stress to Y/N that Negan was hers. Setting her personal items down, Maggie moved over toward the couch to take a seat on the opposite side of Jordyn. Upon seeing the ugly nutcracker that Jordyn was playing with, Maggie’s nose wrinkled and she reached out to grab it. “I’ll never understand why you love these things so much.”

“They are so ugly,” Jordyn blurt out excitedly, kicking her feet a bit when she pointed to the nutcracker that Maggie was now observing. “They’re so ugly that they are cute.”

“I told you hun, she’s always had a thing for them,” Negan reminded Maggie getting her eyes to lift to his from where she was seated. “The uglier things are? The better for her.”

“It’s because I want to prove that even the ugliest things are loveable to someone. You can’t just leave them there for no one to buy,” Jordyn exclaimed with a frown reaching for the nutcracker from Maggie. “I like my collection.”

“I know you do baby,” Negan lowered down, outstretching his hand to brush his fingers through his daughter’s dark hair. A moment passed where all of them were silent. Clearing his throat, Negan looked to Maggie, offering up one of his charming smiles. “Are you ready for tonight?”

“What’s tonight?” confusion flooded Maggie’s green eyes and she looked to Y/N to save her. Only, Negan didn’t give her the time to do so.

“That event at the school,” Negan reminded Maggie, his head bobbing about. “We’ve only talked about it a million times. The one where potential donators come in and they get a feel for what the school can offer. We have people come in from influential jobs to talk about how their classes got them in the career they are in today. We’ve talked about it a lot hun.”

“Oh, right. That,” Maggie’s mouth parted into the shape of an o. It was obvious that Maggie was trying to come up with some kind of response. Shifting on the couch uneasily, Maggie slid further away from Jordyn and bit down on her bottom lip. “I’m sorry Negan, but an important meeting with a client came up tonight. Guy and I are supposed to meet them for dinner.”

“When did that happen?” Y/N panicked, reaching for her phone to pull out her calendar. “I have nothing in the schedule.”

“It only was just confirmed with me when I was on the elevator to get up here,” Maggie explained to Y/N, holding her hand out to get Y/N to lower her phone down. “Guy was on the elevator at the same time and he reminded me of it. It’s a very important client and he wants me to be there.”

“Maggie,” Negan frowned, his jaw flexing and visible disappointment filled his hazel eyes. “You knew about this. About how important this was for the school. You were one of the big names on the list for people.”

“And I’m sorry this turned out the way it did, but work is more important,” Maggie stressed to Negan throwing her arm about in the air while she spoke. “I’d love to go to this with you because you know how much I love going places with you, but this is one thing I can’t get out of. You’re a big enough name.”

“But I’m for the film department. You were supposed to be the lead for the fashion department Maggie. That’s two totally different areas. People coming for that aren’t gonna wanna see me,” Negan stressed, standing up slowly. His hands pressed in over his hips, his body language showing that he was unhappy. “If you were gonna cancel, you should have told me long before today. That way I could have gotten someone that could replace you.”

“I can’t help it Negan,” Maggie defended herself placing her hand in over the center of her chest, her head shaking swiftly from side to side. “This only came about today. If I would have known that it was going to happen, I would have told you.”

A grunt escaped Negan’s lips and he rolled his eyes. A muscle was flexing at the corner of his jaw as it often would when he would get irritated or angry with someone. Maggie was waiting for some kind of response from Negan, but at this point? She wasn’t getting it.

“You know how it is Negan. Around Christmas time, my job gets really busy,” Maggie tried to defend herself realizing that she was losing in her defense with her last-minute cancelation. Looking around the room, Maggie’s green eyes locked with Y/N’s and she gasped. Snapping her fingers, she got Negan’s attention and pointed at Y/N. “Make Y/N go instead! She works here too. She knows my job inside and out. I guarantee she would be able to give the speech.”

“Maggie, they wouldn’t want me,” Y/N responded immediately realizing that she was a no-name. Whereas people actually knew who Maggie was. Sure, she knew the speech inside and out because she had written it for Maggie. As well as made a pdf along with a video for Maggie to share. There was no question that she knew this whole thing more than Maggie ever did, but that didn’t excuse that no one would want her over Maggie. “I’m a no one. No one even knows my name.”

“But you work hand-in-hand with me,” Maggie countered, standing up from the couch. Waving her hand back and forth between Negan and Y/N, Maggie was desperately trying to get the two of them to agree. “Y/N, you know that you knew this stuff.”

“She might have something to do tonight,” Negan stressed, shaking his head. It was obvious that he was still upset with Maggie. “This is very last-minute Maggie. For me, for her.”

“She never has anything she has to do,” Maggie defended herself and it had Y/N huffing out. Looking to Jordyn, Y/N noticed that Negan’s daughter was just watching the whole situation play out in front of her. “Come on Y/N. You know just as well as I do that if I need you, no matter what you are available.”

“It’s my job,” Y/N stressed to Maggie who grumbled under her breath and then lowered her head into her hand. With how Negan was reacting to things, it was obvious that Negan didn’t think she was a good enough replacement for Maggie. “He doesn’t want me there.”

“That’s…that’s not true,” Negan replied back with a sense of empathy over what she just said. “I don’t mind you coming, but…”

“Then it should be fine,” Maggie interrupted him so she could stop any worries or negative thoughts about the idea that she came up with. “All we have to do is have her replace me. I assure you that the speech is going to be great.”

“I don’t think you’re realizing why this is upsetting to me,” Negan grumbled under his breath noticing that Maggie didn’t seem to realize where the problem was. “I don’t have a problem with her stepping in. My problem here is that we promoted you. People are going to expect you to be there. And dropping out of things last second is not really cool Maggie.”

“Oh no, I understand that,” Maggie assured him, stepping to him and placing her hand in over the center of Negan’s chest getting their eyes to lock. “I understand that I will have to make it up to you. And if I didn’t have this last-minute meeting, I wouldn’t be doing this to you.”

“A lot of people are going to be disappointed,” Negan thought aloud, lowering his stare to watch Maggie stroking at the center of his chest. It didn’t take much to see that gradually Negan was getting less angry with Maggie. Sighing loudly, Negan shrugged his shoulders with his eyebrows bouncing up. “You do owe me Maggie.”

“And I intend to follow through,” Maggie whispered lifting her hand to tap lightly at Negan’s nose. Tugging at Negan’s jacket, Maggie got him to lower down enough so she could steal another kiss from his lips.

Separating, Negan sighed loudly and looked to Y/N. Throwing his hands up in the air, he seemed at a loss for words, “Are you available to replace Maggie tonight? If you came to the event, it would help me out. Having someone to talk is better than having no one to talk. I’d owe you one.”

The look in his hazel eyes were almost pleading and it made Y/N’s throat go dry. Giving a small nod of her head, Y/N knew that she couldn’t turn Negan down when he was asking her for a favor, “I’ll find a way to make time.”

“I’ll text you over the details as soon as I can. Thank you for doing this Y/N,” Negan stammered, his dimples prominent while he thought of something more to say. “I just have to find a way to make it make sense to the board.”

“It’s really not that big of a deal honey,” Maggie reached out to squeeze over Negan’s shoulders and then headed back toward her desk. Negan went to say something to bicker back with Maggie, but the way he slouched forward showed that he knew that it would have been useless to do so anyways.

“I think me and Jordyn are gonna take off. We are supposed to meet one of her friends at Bryant Park for some ice skating,” Negan informed the two of them, reaching out to help Jordyn up from the couch. “We’ll make sure to drop this guy off first though so we can make sure he can be with rest of your collection.”

“Thank you again!” Jordyn boasted, running to Y/N to give her another big hug. “You always have the best gifts.”

“And you always give the best hugs,” Y/N hummed, giving Jordyn one final big squeeze. Standing up from the couch, Y/N gave Negan a nod not sure how she should say goodbye to him at this point. When they were close, they were hugging all the time. Now, it just felt awkward. “I hope you both have a good time.”

“Oh, I’m sure she will,” Negan curled his arm around his daughter’s shoulders pulling her in closer to him. “Thanks again Y/N.”

“I’ll call you tonight after everything,” Maggie waved goodbye to both Negan and Jordyn as they worked their way out of her office. There was a fake smile plastered over Maggie’s features when they looked back at her from where they were standing by the elevator. Once they were on the elevator and it was closed, Maggie finally relaxed and slouched forward. Looking to the latte that Negan had gotten her, Maggie groaned and shoved it out toward Y/N. “Take this. I don’t want it.”

“Well I don’t want it after you’ve drank from it,” Y/N muttered, her eyes looking down toward the cup with disgust. “We’re close Maggie, but I’m not really interested in sharing germs with you.”

“Oh please, my germs are perfect,” Maggie pushed the drink further toward Y/N who had to grab the cup otherwise it may have spilled everywhere. “I don’t care what you do with it. Just throw it away. That was disgusting. I can’t believe you allowed me to throw away my other latte for that.”

“Maggie, I can’t make you do anything,” Y/N countered moving over toward the trash to throw away the latte that Maggie no longer wanted. Almost immediately after throwing out the latte, Y/N gasped when Maggie threw her the bag of food that Negan had brought for her. Luckily she caught it after fumbling with it for a moment. “You want me to throw this away too?”

“You can eat it. I already had breakfast,” Maggie explained searching for something in one of her drawers. “I’m sure you haven’t eaten yet, so it’s perfect for you.”

“Thanks Maggie,” Y/N set the bag on the corner of Maggie’s desk. Moving over toward the couch, Y/N knew that her laptop was on the coffee table that was in front of it and there were a lot of things she had to get started on.

A loud, exaggerated gasp was heard making Y/N jump when she looked to Maggie who had shot up from the seat that was at her desk, “Damn it Y/N! Couldn’t you have at least wiped off the seat? We should have gotten you a towel or something with how wet you were.”

“Sorry Maggie,” Y/N apologized, fighting hard to avoid rolling her eyes at her overreaction.

“And you didn’t even get through all the e-mails?” Maggie stammered provoking a long sigh from Y/N in response. Great, today was obviously headed for a shitty day. “You’re slacking a little bit.”

“It took longer to get back to the office this morning with this storm and walking,” Y/N explained, getting comfortable on the couch and preparing her laptop. “Also, Negan and Jordyn showing up distracted me for a few.”

“Those sound like excuses Y/N,” Maggie suggested, tapping her fingers on the desk. Suddenly it felt like Y/N was being scolded by someone of authority and like Y/N was a child. “You know what I say. If you have to make excuses about things not being done it means that you’re not taking your job seriously and I need you to take it seriously.”

“I’m not being dismissive with my job, Maggie. I assure you I’m taking things very seriously,” Y/N declared with an uncomfortable sound. It felt like her throat was closing up with Maggie’s green eyes still staring out at her. “What do you want me to say Maggie?”

“I want you to tell me it won’t happen again,” Maggie stressed and it had Y/N faintly laughing. “Is that funny? You know that you only have this job because you were my best friend Y/N. I could probably find someone that is more eager to have this job.”

“No, it’s not funny at all,” Y/N bit down on her bottom lip, getting angry that Maggie was now threatening her position over a few unanswered e-mails. Maggie would be lost without Y/N. So even the idea that Maggie would threaten her job was amusing in itself. “Sorry Maggie, I’ll make sure to get things done faster from here on out.”

“See to that,” Maggie breathed, her eyes going back to the screen to skim over the things that were still left on the computer.

From the couch Y/N stared out at Maggie. After four years at this company, Y/N didn’t even have a desk. She did most of her work from Maggie’s couch or used Maggie’s desk whenever she wasn’t there. Even though Maggie had gotten her this job where they were supposed to be partners, they weren’t even close.

In this moment, it was hard not to consider life and her choices. A promise to Maggie’s father had caused Y/N to become a slave to her best friend. One where she did all the work to make Maggie look good. All Maggie was in this company was a face. Y/N wasn’t really sure what Maggie really did other than share what were mostly Y/N’s designs and ideas. Y/N did everything for Maggie and she didn’t even make a quarter of what Maggie did in terms of salary.

There were moments where Y/N considered if she should really keep putting up with this. Putting all her efforts and talents into Maggie when she didn’t get any recognition whatsoever. Why had she wasted this much time doing this to begin with? For some reason today, everything was just hitting Y/N harder and it was stressing her out more than normal.

There was a knock at the door that drew both of them to look up. Guy Vixen stood at the door, gazing upon Maggie. As always, the owner of the company was dressed in something unbelievably expensive. Vibrant colors added emphasis to his look making sure to always have him stand out. Guy was originally an English model that took advantage of the sources he had and became one of the most successful fashion designers in the world. No matter when you saw Guy, his appearance was always perfect. His nails nicely manicured. His dark hair gelled to perfection. You couldn’t miss him in a crowd. That was for sure. Not just because he was a good-looking guy, but also because he wouldn’t let you miss him. He had to be the center of attention no matter where he was.

“Well don’t just look at me with those doe eyes. Are you ready?” Guy had been holding the door open, his hand waving at Maggie to get up.

“Of course,” Maggie stood up quickly, fixing the dress that she was wearing. Smoothing it over her hips, Maggie moved around the desk and gave a big smile. “Let me grab my notes.”

Watching Maggie’s movements, Y/N knew that in the corner of the room was the drawings for the presentation that Maggie was supposed to do. Yesterday they had talked about them since Y/N had finished them off for Maggie, but it seemed like Maggie was oblivious to them.

“You,” Guy snapped his fingers at Y/N to get her attention. Well that was a first. Usually Guy was oblivious to her existence. Now? Guy’s brown eyes were gazing her over and she felt her heartrate quicken. Suddenly Maggie’s warning was repeating in her mind about what she was wearing. “What are you wearing?”

Damn, Maggie was right. Looking down, Y/N tugged at Negan’s shirt that he had given her to wear in order to warm up, “It’s flannel?”

“Cute,” Guy simply stated, his head tipping to the side. A surprised expression flooded Maggie’s features that Guy would even say something like that to begin with. “It’s very vintage.”

“Thank you,” Y/N offered up a weak smile, not sure how to respond since that wasn’t the response that she was expecting.

“You ready?” Maggie outstretched her hand to grab a hold of Guy’s arm.

“Yes darling, let’s go,” Guy started to lead Maggie away, but Y/N cleared her throat.

“Maggie,” Y/N called out to Maggie who looked frustrated that Y/N would even call out to her in the first place. “Are you forgetting something?”

“What could I possibly be for…” Maggie started, but Y/N nodded over toward the corner of the room where the materials for the presentation were. A sudden realization flooded through Maggie and she swiftly headed over toward that corner to grab everything. “Yes. You were right. Wouldn’t want to forget these.”

As they were leaving the room, Y/N started to go back to work only to hear Guy whisper, “Who was that again?”

“It’s my assistant,” Maggie muttered under her breath and hearing that made Y/N let out a tense, muted laugh. And there it was. The true label that Maggie had always planned out for her. Y/N was a fool to assume anything else. And each day only proved to her how she was going to be stuck in this very role until the end of time.

----

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[mostlysignssomeportents]

All the books I reviewed in 2024

I reviewed 26 books this year: 15 novels, 5 nonfiction books, and 6 graphic novels. Even though I feel perennially behind on my reading (and objectively, I do have 10 linear feet of "to be read" books on the shelf), I think this is a pretty good haul.

Books are pretty much the ideal gift, if you ask me. Of course, I'm biased as a former bookseller and library worker, and as an author (of course) – I had three more books come out in 2024 (see the end of this post for details).

I started a lot more than 26 books this year. Long ago, I figured life was too short for books I wasn't enjoying, and I'm pretty ruthless about putting books down partway through if I think they're not going to reward finishing them. I probably start 10 books for every one I finish. However, I do review more than 90% of the books I get through. It's rare for me to keep reading a book all the way to the end if I'm not enjoying it enough to unconditionally recommend it. I rarely review books I don't like – there's not really any point in cataloging the list of books I think you won't enjoy reading, and most books I don't like very much are broken in ways that are too banal to comment upon.

The list below is pretty great, but if you're looking for more, here's the haul from 2023:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/01/bookmaker/#2023-in-review

NOVELS

I. Cahokia Jazz by Francis Spufford

A fucking banger: it's a taut, unguessable whuddunit, painted in ultrablack noir, set in an alternate Jazz Age in a world where indigenous people never ceded most the west to the USA. It's got gorgeously described jazz music, a richly realized modern indigenous society, and a spectacular romance. It's amazing.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/04/cahokia/#the-sun-and-the-moon

II. After World by Debbie Urbanski

An unflinching and relentlessly bleak tale of humanity's mass extinction, shot through with pathos and veined with seams of tragic tenderness and care. Sen Anon – the story's semi-protagonist – is 18 years old when the world learns that every person alive has been sterilized and so the human race is living out its last years.

The news triggers a manic insistence that this is a good thing – long overdue, in fact – and the perfect opportunity to scan every person alive for eventual reincarnation as virtual humans in an Edenic cloud metaverse called Gaia. That way, people can continue to live their lives without the haunting knowledge that everything they do makes the planet worse for every other living thing, and each other. Here, finally, is the resolution to the paradox of humanity: our desire to do good, and our inevitable failure on that score.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/18/storyworker-ad39-393a-7fbc/#digital-human-archive-project

III. Jonathan Abernathy You Are Kind by Molly McGhee

A dreamlike tale of a public-private partnership that hires the terminally endebted to invade the dreams of white-collar professionals and harvest the anxieties that prevent them from being fully productive members of the American corporate workforce.

We meet Jonathan as he is applying for a job that he was recruited for in a dream. As instructed in his dream, he presents himself at a shabby strip-mall office where an acerbic functionary behind scratched plexiglass takes his application and informs him that he is up for a gig run jointly by the US State Department and a consortium of large corporate employers. If he is accepted, all of his student debt repayments will be paused and he will no longer face wage garnishment. What's more, he'll be doing the job in his sleep, which means he'll be able to get a day job and pull a double income – what's not to like?

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/08/capitalist-surrealism/#productivity-hacks

IV. The Book of Love by Kelly Link

If you've read Link's short stories (which honestly, you must read), you know her signature move: a bone-dry witty delivery, used to spin tales of deceptive whimsy and quirkiness, disarming you with daffiness while she sets the hook and yanks. That's the unmistakeable, inimitable texture of a Kelly Link story: deft literary brushstrokes, painting a picture so charming and silly that you don't even notice when she cuts you without mercy.

Turns out that she can quite handily do this for hundreds of pages, and the effect only gets better when it's given space to unfold.

It's a long and twisting mystery about friendship, love, queerness, rock-and-roll, stardom, parenthood, loyalty, lust and duty.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/13/the-kissing-song/#wrack-and-roll

V. Lyorn by Steven Brust

The seventeenth book in Steven Brust's long-running Vlad Taltos series. For complicated reasons, Vlad has to hide out in a theater. Why a theater? They are shielded from sorcery, as proof against magical spying by rival theater companies, and Vlad is on the run from the Left Hand of the Jhereg – the crime syndicate's all-woman sorceress squad – and so he has to hide in the theater.

The theater is mounting a production of a famous play that's about another famous play. The first famous play (the one the play is about – try and follow along, would you?) is about a famous massacre that took place thousands of years before. The play was mounted as a means of drumming up support for the whistleblower who reported on the massacre and was invited to a short-term berth in the Emperor's death row as a consequence.

The plot is a fantastic, fast-handed caper story that has a million moving parts, a beautiful prestige, and a coup de grace that'll have you cheering and punching the air.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/09/so-meta/#delightful-doggerel

VI. Till Human Voices Wake Us by Rebecca Roque

A teen murder mystery told in the most technorealist way. Cia's best friend Alice has been trying to find her missing boyfriend for months, and in her investigation, she's discovered their small town's dark secret – a string of disappearances, deaths and fires that are the hidden backdrop to the town's out-of-control addiction problem.

Alice has something to tell Cia, something about the fire that orphaned her and cost her one leg when she was only five years old, but Cia refuses to hear it. Instead, they have a blazing fight, and part ways. It's the last time Cia and Alice ever see each other: that night, Alice kills herself.

Or does she? Cia is convinced that Alice has been murdered, and that her murder is connected to the drug- and death-epidemic that's ravaging their town. As Cia and her friends seek to discover the town's secret – and the identity of Alice's killer – we're dragged into an intense, gripping murder mystery/conspiracy story that is full of surprises and reversals, each more fiendishly clever than the last.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/16/dead-air/#technorealism

VII. The Steerswoman by Rosemary Kirstein

Randall "XKCD" Munroe pitched me on this over dinner: "All these different people kept recommending them to me, and they kept telling me that I would love them, but they wouldn't tell me what they were about because there's this huge riddle in them that's super fun to figure out for yourself. "The books were published in the eighties by Del Rey, and the cover of the first one had a huge spoiler on it. But the author got the rights back and she's self-published it."

How could I resist a pitch like that? So I ordered a copy. Holy moly is this a good novel! And yeah, there's a super interesting puzzle in it that I won't even hint at, except to say that even the book's genre is a riddle that you'll have enormous great fun solving.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/04/the-wulf/#underground-fave

VIII. Moonbound by Robin Sloan

Moonbound's protagonist is a "chronicler," a symbiotic fungus engineered to nestle in a human's nervous system, where it serves as a kind of recording angel, storing up the memories, experiences and personalities of its host. When we meet the chronicler, it has just made a successful leap from its old host – a 10,000-years-dead warrior who had been preserved in an anaerobic crashpod ever since her ship was shot out of the sky – into the body of Ariel, a 12-year-old boy who had just invaded the long-lost tomb.

This is doing fiction in hard mode, and Sloan nails it. The unraveling strangeness of Ariel's world is counterpointed with the amazing tale of the world the chronicler hails from, even as the chonicler consults with the preserved personalities of the heroes and warriors it had previous resided in and recorded.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/11/penumbraverse/#middle-anth

IX. Fight Me by Austin Grossman

Aging ex-teen superheroes weigh the legacy of Generation X, in a work that enrobes its savage critique with sweet melancholia, all under a coating of delicious snark. The Newcomers – an amped-up ninja warrior, a supergenius whose future self keeps sending him encouragement and technical schematics backwards through time, and an exiled magical princess turned preppie supermodel – have spent more than a decade scattered to the winds. While some have fared better than others, none of them have lived up to their potential or realized the dreams that seemed so inevitable when they were world famous supers with an entourage of fellow powered teens who worshipped them as the planet's greatest heroes.

As they set out to solve the mystery of the wizard who gave the protagonist his powers, they are reunited and must take stock of who they are and how they got there (cue Talking Heads' "Once In a Lifetime").

The publisher's strapline for this book is "The Avengers Meets the Breakfast Club," which is clever, but extremely wrong. The real comp for this book isn't "The Breakfast Club," it's "The Big Chill."

https://pluralistic.net/2024/07/01/the-big-genx-chill/#im-super-thanks-for-asking

X. Glass Houses by Madeline Ashby

Kristen is the "Chief Emotional Manager" for Wuv, a hot startup that has defined the new field of "affective computing," which is when a computer tells you what everyone else around you is really feeling, based on the irrepressible tells emitted by their bodies, voices and gadgets.

Managing Sumter through Wuv's tumultuous launch is hard work for Kristen, but at last, it's paid off. The company has been acquired, making Kristen – and all her coworkers on the founding core team – into instant millionaires. They're flying to a lavish celebration in an autonomous plane that Sumter chartered when the action begins: the plane has a malfunction and crashes into a desert island, killing all but ten of the Wuvvies.

As the survivors explore the island, they discover only one sign of human habitation: a huge, brutalist, featureless black glass house, which initially rebuffs all their efforts to enter it. But once they gain entry, they discover that the house is even harder to leave.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/08/13/influencers/#affective-computing

XI. The Sapling Cage by Margaret Killjoy

A queer coming-of-age tale in the mode of epic fantasy. Lorel wants to be a witch, but that's the very last of the adventurous trades to be strictly gender-segregated. Boys and girls alike run away to be knights, brigands and sailors, but only girls can become a witch. Indeed, Lorel's best friend, Lane, is promised to the witches, having been born to a witch herself.

Lorel has signed up for witching just as the land is turning against witches, thanks to a political plot by a scheming duchess who has scapegoated the witches as part of a plan to annex all the surrounding duchies, re-establishing the long-disintegrated kingdom with herself on the throne. To make things worse (for the witches, if not the duchess), there's a plague of monsters on the land, and the forests are blighted with a magical curse that turns trees to unmelting ice. This all softens up the peasantfolk for anti-witch pogroms.

So Lorel has to learn witching, even as her coven is fighting both monsters and the duchess's knights and the vigilante yokels who've been stirred up with anti-witch xenophobia.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/24/daughters-of-the-empty-throne/#witchy

XII. Blackheart Man by Nalo Hopkinson

A story that will make you drunk on language, on worldbuilding, and on its roaring, relentless plot. The action is set on Chynchin, a fantastic Caribbean island (or maybe Caribbeanesque – it's never clear whether this is some magical, imaginary world, or some distant future of our own). Chynchin is a multiracial, creole land with a richly realized gift economy that Hopkinson deftly rounds out with a cuisine, languages, and familial arrangements.

Chynchin was founded through a slave rebellion, in which the press-ganged soldiers of the iron-fisted Ymisen empire were defeated by three witches who caused them to be engulfed in tar that they magicked into a liquid state just long enough to entomb them, then magicked back into solidity. For generations, the Ymisen have tolerated Chynchin's self-rule, but as the story opens, a Ymisen armada sails into Chynchin's port and a "trade envoy" announces that it's time for the Chynchin to "voluntarily" re-establish trade with the Ymisen.

The story that unfolds is a staple of sf and fantasy: the scrappy resistance mounted against the evil empire, and this familiar backdrop is a sturdy scaffold to support Hopkinson's dizzying, phantasmagoric tale of psychedelic magic, possessed children, military intrigue, musicianship and sexual entanglements.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/08/20/piche/#cynchin

XIII. Julia by Sandra Newman

Julia is the kind of fanfic that I love, in the tradition of both The Wind Done Gone and Rosencrantz and Gildenstern Are Dead, in which a follow-on author takes on the original author's throwaway world-building with deadly seriousness, elucidating the weird implications and buried subtexts of all the stuff and people moving around in the wings and background of the original.

For Newman, the starting point here is Julia, an enigmatic lover who comes to Winston with all kinds of rebellious secrets – tradecraft for planning and executing dirty little assignations and acquiring black market goods. Julia embodies a common contradiction in the depiction of young women (she is some twenty years younger than Winston): on the one hand, she is a "native" of the world, while Winston is a late arrival, carrying around all his "oldthink" baggage that leaves him perennially baffled, terrified and angry; on the other hand, she's a naive "girl," who "doesn't much care for reading," and lacks the intellectual curiosity that propels Winston through the text.

This contradiction is the cleavage line that Newman drives her chisel into, fracturing Orwell's world in useful, fascinating, engrossing ways. Through Julia's eyes, we experience Oceania as a paranoid autocracy, corrupt and twitchy. We witness the obvious corollary of a culture of denunciation and arrest: the ruling Party of such an institution must be riddled with internecine struggle and backstabbing, to the point of paralyzed dysfunction. The Orwellian trick of switching from being at war with Eastasia to Eurasia and back again is actually driven by real military setbacks – not just faked battles designed to stir up patriotic fervor. The Party doesn't merely claim to be under assault from internal and external enemies – it actually is.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/28/novel-writing-machines/#fanfic

XIV. The Wilding by Ian McDonald

McDonald's first horror novel, and it's fucking terrifying. It's set in a rural Irish peat bog that has been acquired by a conservation authority that is rewilding it after a century of industrial peat mining that stripped it back nearly to the bedrock. This rewilding process has been greatly accelerated by the covid lockdowns, which reduced the human footprint in the conservation area to nearly zero.

Lisa's last duty before she leaves the bog and goes home to Dublin is leading a school group on a wild campout in one of the bog's deep clearings. It's a routine assignment, and while it's not her favorite duty, it's also not a serious hardship.

But as the group hikes out to the campsite, one of her fellow guides is killed, without warning, by a mysterious beast that moves so quickly they can barely make out its monstrous form. Thus begins a tense, mysterious, spooky as hell story of survival in a haunted woods, written in the kind of poesy that has defined McDonald's career, and which – when deployed in service of terror – has the power to raise literal goosebumps.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/25/bogman/#erin-go-aaaaaaargh

XV. Polostan by Neal Stephenson

Not a spy novel, but a science fiction novel about spies in an historical setting. This isn't to say that Stephenson tramples on, or ignores spy tropes: this is absolutely a first-rate spy novel. Nor does Stephenson skimp on the lush, gorgeously realized and painstakingly researched detail you'd want from an historical novel.

Polostan raises the curtain on the story of Dawn Rae Bjornberg, AKA Aurora Maximovna Artemyeva, whose upbringing is split between the American West in the early 20th century and the Leningrad of revolutionary Russia (her parents are an American anarchist and a Ukrainian Communist who meet when her father travels to America as a Communist agitator). Aurora's parents' marriage does not survive their sojourn to the USSR, and eventually Aurora and her father end up back in the States, after her father is tasked with radicalizing the veterans of the Bonus Army that occupied DC, demanding the military benefits they'd been promised.

All of this culminates in her return sojourn to the Soviet Union, where she first falls under suspicion of being an American spy, and then her recruitment as a Soviet spy.

Also: she plays a lot of polo. Like, on a horse.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/04/bomb-light/#nukular

NONFICTION

I. A City on Mars by Kelly and Zach Weinersmith

Biologist Kelly Weinersmith and cartoonist Zach Weinersmith set out to investigate the governance challenges of the impending space settlements they were told were just over the horizon. Instead, they discovered that humans aren't going to be settling space for a very long time, and so they wrote a book about that instead.

The Weinersmiths make the (convincing) case that every aspect of space settlement is vastly beyond our current or reasonably foreseeable technical capability. What's more, every argument in favor of pursuing space settlement is errant nonsense. And finally: all the energy we are putting into space settlement actually holds back real space science, which offers numerous benefits to our species and planet (and is just darned cool).

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/09/astrobezzle/#send-robots-instead

II. Dark Wire by Joseph Cox

Cox spent years on the crimephone beat, tracking vendors who sold modded phones (first Blackberries, then Android phones) to criminal syndicates with the promise that they couldn't be wiretapped by law-enforcement.

He tells the story of the FBI's plan to build an incredibly secure, best-of-breed crimephone, one with every feature that a criminal would want to truly insulate themselves from law enforcement while still offering everything a criminal could need to plan and execute crimes.

This is really two incredible tales. The first is the story of the FBI and its partners as they scaled up Anom, their best-of-breed crimephone business. This is a (nearly) classic startup tale, full of all-nighters, heroic battles against the odds, and the terror and exhilaration of "hockey-stick" growth.

The other one is the crime startup, the one that the hapless criminal syndicates that sign up to distribute Anom devices find themselves in the middle of. They, too, are experiencing hockey-stick growth. They, too, have a fantastically lucrative tiger by the tail. And they, too, have a unique set of challenges that make this startup different from any other.

Cox has been on this story for a decade, and it shows. He has impeccable sourcing and encyclopedic access to the court records and other public details that allow him to reproduce many of the most dramatic scenes in the Anom caper verbatim.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/04/anom-nom-nom/#the-call-is-coming-from-inside-the-ndrangheta

III. The Hidden History of Walt Disney World by Foxx Nolte

No one writes about Disney theme parks like Foxx Nolte; no one rises above the trivia and goes beyond the mere sleuthing of historical facts, no one nails the essence of what makes these parks work – and fail.

The history of Walt Disney World is also a history of the American narrative from the 1960s to the turn of the millennium, especially once Epcot enters the picture and Disney sets out to market itself as a futuristic mirror to America and the world. There's a doomed plan to lead the nation in the provision of an airport for the largely hypothetical short runway aircraft that never materialized, the Disney company's love-hate affair with Florida's orange growers, and the geopolitics of installing a permanent World's Fair, just as World's Fairs were disappearing from the world stage.

In focusing on the conflicts between different corporate managers, outside suppliers, and the gloriously flamboyant weirdos of Florida, Nolte's history of Disney World transcends amusing anaecdotes and tittle-tattle – rather, it illustrates how the creative sparks thrown off by people smashing into each other sometimes created towering blazes of glory that burn to this day.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/07/15/disnefried/#dialectics

IV. Network Nation by Richard R John

An extremely important, brilliantly researched, deep history of America's love/hate affair with not just the telephone, but also the telegraph. It is unmistakably as history book, one that aims at a definitive takedown of various neat stories about the history of American telecommunications.

The monopolies that emerged in the telegraph and then the telephone weren't down to grand forces that made them inevitable, but rather, to the errors made by regulators and the successful gambits of the telecoms barons. At many junctures, things could have gone another way.

Most striking about this book were the parallels to contemporary fights over Big Tech trustbusting, in our new Gilded Age. Many of the apologies offered for Western Union or AT&T's monopoly could have been uttered by the Renfields who carry water for Facebook, Apple and Google. John's book is a powerful and engrossing reminder that variations on these fights have occurred in the not-so-distant past, and that there's much we can learn from them.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/07/18/the-bell-system/#were-the-phone-company-we-dont-have-to-care

V. A Natural History of Empty Lots by Christopher Brown

A frustratingly hard to summarize book, because it requires a lot of backstory and explanation, and one of the things that makes this book so! fucking! great! is how skillfully Brown weaves disparate elements – the unique house he built in Austin, the wildlife he encounters in the city's sacrifice zones, the politics that created them – into his telling.

This series of loosely connected essays that explains how everything fits together: colonial conquest, Brown's failed marriage, his experience as a lawyer learning property law, what he learned by mobilizing that learning to help his neighbors defend the pockets of wildness that refuse to budge.

It's filled with pastoral writing that summons Kim Stanley Robinson by way of Thoreau, and it sometimes frames its philosophical points the way a cyberpunk writer would.

The kind of book that challenges how you feel about the crossroads we're at, the place you live, and the place you want to be.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/17/cyberpunk-pastoralism/#time-to-mow-the-roof

GRAPHIC NOVELS

I. Death Strikes by David Maass and Patrick Lay

"The Emperor of Atlantis," is an opera written by two Nazi concentration camp inmates, the librettist Peter Kien and the composer Viktor Ullmann, while they were interned in Terezin, a show-camp in Czechoslovakia that housed numerous Jewish artists, who were encouraged to make and display their work as a sham to prove to the rest of the world that Nazi camps were humane places.

Death Strikes was adapted by my EFF colleague Dave Maass, an investigator and muckraker and brilliant writer, who teamed up with illustrator Patrick Lay and character designer Ezra Rose (who worked from Kien and Ullmann's original designs, which survived along with the score and libretto).

The Emperor's endless wars have already tried Death's patience. Death brings mercy, not vengeance, and the endless killing has dismayed him. The Emperor's co-option drives him past the brink, and Death declares a strike, breaking his sword and announcing that henceforth, no one will die.

Needless to say, this puts a crimp in the Emperor's all-out war plan. People get shot and stabbed and drowned and poisoned, but they don't die. They just hang around, embarrassingly alive (there's a great comic subplot of the inability of the Emperor's executioners to kill a captured assassin).

While this is clearly an adaptation, Kien and Ullmann's spirit of creativity, courage, and bittersweet creative ferment shines through. It's a beautiful book, snatched from death itself.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/23/peter-kien-viktor-ullmann/#terez

II. My Favorite Things Is Monsters Book Two by Emil Ferris

The long, long delayed sequel to the tale of Karen Reyes, a 10 year old, monster-obsessed queer girl in 1968 Chicago who lives with her working-class single mother and her older brother, Deeze, in an apartment house full of mysterious, haunted adults. There's the landlord – a gangster and his girlfriend – the one-eyed ventriloquist, and the beautiful Holocaust survivor and her jazz-drummer husband.

Ferris's storytelling style is dazzling, and it's matched and exceeded by her illustration style, which is grounded in the classic horror comics of the 1950s and 1960s. Characters in Karen's life – including Karen herself – are sometimes depicted in the EC horror style, and that same sinister darkness crowds around the edges of her depictions of real-world Chicago.

Book Two picks up from Book One's cliffhanger and then rockets forward. Everything brilliant about One is even better in Two – the illustrations more lush, the fine art analysis more pointed and brilliant, the storytelling more assured and propulsive, the shocks and violence more outrageous, the characters more lovable, complex and grotesque.

Everything about Two is more. The background radiation of the Vietnam War in One takes center stage with Deeze's machinations to beat the draft, and Deeze and Karen being ensnared in the Chicago Police Riots of '68. The allegories, analysis and reproductions of classical art get more pointed, grotesque and lavish. Annika's Nazi concentration camp horrors are more explicit and more explicitly connected to Karen's life. The queerness of the story takes center stage, both through Karen's first love and the introduction of a queer nightclub. The characters are more vivid, as is the racial injustice and the corruption of the adult world.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/01/the-druid/#

III. So Long Sad Love by Mirion Malle

Cleo is a French comics creator who's moved to Montreal, in part to be with Charles, a Quebecois creator who helps her find a place in the city's tight-knit artistic scene. The relationship feels like a good one, with the normal ups and downs, but then Cleo travels to a festival, where she meets Farah, a vivacious and talented fellow artist. They're getting along great…until Farah discovers who Cleo's boyfriend is. Though Farah doesn't say anything, she is visibly flustered and makes her excuses before hurriedly departing.

This kicks off Cleo's hunt for the truth about her boyfriend, a hunt that is complicated by the fact that she's so far from home, that her friends are largely his friends, that he flies off the handle every time she raises the matter, and by her love for him.

Malle handles this all so deftly, showing how Cleo and her friends all play archetypal roles in the recurrent missing stair dynamic. It's a beautifully told story, full of charm and character, but it's also a kind of forensic re-enactment of a disaster, told from an intermediate distance that's close enough to the action that we can see the looming crisis, but also understand why the people in its midst are steering straight into it.

Packed with subtlety and depth, romance and heartbreak, subtext that carries through the dialog (in marvelous translation from the original French by Aleshia Jensen) and the body language in Malle's striking artwork.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/25/missing-step/#the-fog-of-love

IV. Bea Wolf by Zach Wienersmith and Boulet

A ferociously amazingly great illustrated kids' graphic novel adaptation of the Old English epic poem, which inspired Tolkien, who helped bring it to popularity after it had languished in obscurity for centuries.

Weinersmith and Boulet set themselves the task of bringing a Germanic heroic saga from more than a thousand years ago to modern children, while preserving the meter and the linguistic and literary tropes of the original. And they did it!

There are some changes, of course. Grendel – the boss monster that both Beowulf and Bea Wulf must defeat – is no longer obsessed with decapitating his foes and stealing their heads. In Bea Wulf, Grendel is a monstrously grown up and boring adult who watches cable news and flosses twice per day, and when he defeats the kids whose destruction he is bent upon, he does so by turning them into boring adults, too.

The utter brilliance of Bea Wulf is as much due to the things it preserves from the original epic as it is to the updates and changes. Weinersmith has kept the Old English tradition of alliteration, right from the earliest passages, with celebrations of heroes like "Tanya, treat-taker, terror of Halloween, her costume-cache vast, sieging kin and neighbor, draining full candy-bins, fearing not the fate of her teeth. Ten thousand treats she took. That was a fine Tuesday."

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/24/awesome-alliteration/#hellion-hallelujah

V. Youth Group by Bowen McCurdy and Jordan Morris

A charming tale of 1990s ennui, cringe Sunday School – and demon hunting.

Kay is a bitter, cynical teenager who's doing her best to help her mother cope with an ugly divorce that has seen her dad check out on his former family. Mom is going back to church, and she talks Kay into coming along with her to attend the church youth group.

But this is no ordinary youth group. Kay's ultra-boring suburban hometown is actually infested with demons who routinely possess the townspeople, and that baseline of demonic activity has suddenly gone critical, with a new wave of possessions. Suddenly, the possessed are everywhere – even Kay's shitty dad ends up with a demon inside of him.

That's when Kay discovers that the youth group and its corny pastor are also demon hunters par excellence. Their rec-rooms sport secret cubbies filled with holy weapons, and the words of exorcism come as readily to them as any embarrassing rewritten devotional pop song. Kay's discovery of this secret world convinces her that the youth group isn't so bad after all, and soon she is initiated into its mysteries, including the existence of rival demon-hunting kids from the local synagogue, Catholic church, and Wiccan coven.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/07/16/satanic-panic/#the-dream-of-the-nineties

VI. Justice Warriors: Vote Harder by Matt Bors and Ben Clarkson

Vote Harder sees Bubble City facing its first election in living memory, as the mayor – who inherited his position from his "powerful, strapping Papa" – loses a confidence vote by the city's trustees. They're upset with his plan to bankrupt the city in order to buy a laser powerful enough to carve his likeness into the sun as a viral stunt for the launch of his comeback album. The trustees are in no way mollified by the fact that he expects to make a lot of money selling special branded sunglasses that allow Bubble City (and the mutant hordes of the Uninhabited Zone) to safely look into the sun and see what their tax dollars bought.

So it's time for an election, and the two candidates are going hard: there's the incumbent Mayor Prince; there's his half-sister and ex-girlfriend, Stufina Vipix XII, and there's a dark-horse candidate Flauf Tanko, a mutant-tank cyborg that went rogue after a militant Home Owners Association disabled it and its owners abandoned it. Flauf-Tanko is determined to give the masses of the Uninhabited Zone the representation they've been denied for so long, despite the structural impediments to this (UZers need to complete a questionnaire, sub-forms, have three forms of ID, and present a rental contract, drivers license, work permit and breeding license. They also need to get their paperwork signed in person at a VERI-VOTE location, then wait 14 days to get their voter IDs by mail. Also, districts of 2 million or more mutants are allocated the equivalent of only 250,000 votes, but only if 51% of eligible voters show up to the polls; otherwise, their votes are parceled out to other candidates per the terms of the Undervoting and Apathy Allotment Act).

What unfolds is a funny, bitter, superb piece of political satire that could not be better timed.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/11/uninhabited-zone/#eremption-season

As I mentioned in the introduction to this roundup, I had three books out in 2024; a new hardcover, and the paperback editions of two books that came out in hardcover last year. There's more on the horizon – a new hardcover novel (PICKS AND SHOVELS) in Feb 2025, along with the paperback of my novel THE BEZZLE (also Feb 2025). I just turned in the manuscript for my next nonfiction book, ENSHITTIFICATION, which will also be adapted as a graphic novel. I'll also be shortly announcing the publication details for a YA graphic novel, a new essay collection and short story collection.

If you enjoy my work – the newsletter, the talks, the reviews – the best way to support me is to buy my books. I write for grownups, teens, middle-schoolers and little kids, so there's something for everyone!

I. The Lost Cause A solarpunk novel of hope in the climate emergency. "The first great YIMBY novel" -Bill McKibben. "Completely delightful…Neither utopian nor dystopian…I loved it" -Rebecca Solnit. A national bestseller!

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865946/thelostcause/

II. The Internet Con: How to Seize the Means of Computation A detailed disassembly manual for people who want to dismantle Big Tech. "A passionate case for 'relief from manipulation, high-handed moderation, surveillance, price-gouging, disgusting or misleading algorithmic suggestions. -Akash Kapur, New Yorker. Another national bestseller!

https://www.versobooks.com/products/3035-the-internet-con

III. The Bezzle. A seething rebuke of the privatized prison system that delves deeply into the arcane and baroque financial chicanery involved in the 2008 financial crash. "Righteously satisfying…A fascinating tale of financial skullduggery, long cons, and the delivery of ice-cold revenge." –Booklist. A third national bestseller!

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle/

[duribidara]

please please tell me more about your mingi and raiden thoughts because i too am obsessed with the way mingi essentially sets his sights on these older men, bats his eyelashes, and says “please take care of me”

hey there anon! i'm sorry it took me so long to respond lol i hope u haven't forgotten u dropped me an ask :"))

anw ur question is such a Loaded one bc what kind of raiden + mingi thoughts are we talking abt here?? let's start w/ the ones i can say on tumblr w/o utilizing the nsf/w tag, shall we?

• i think it's interesting how two of their public appearances together were at prestigious events and yet they (esp mg) seem to prefer keeping everything on the dl. until they deem it proper to slap us right on the face w/ the collab of a lifetime, that is. ps. pls watch rd's full set pls pls pls he's so GOOD.

[note: linking u to an oomf's posts bc i was the one who sent her the rd+mg anons! her insights are also very brain worm inducing, btw. very worth reading (ilu noé💕)]

• i said on this post how crazy it was that mg managed to get a skilled, experienced, established dj to remix a song of his that's essentially a very personal project meant to document n showcase his growth as an artist. it's quite...intimate, is perhaps the word i'd choose, at the risk of sounding deranged. the pragmatic part of me keeps insisting that yeah, ofc Autobahn is the obvious choice from a technical standpoint: the overall mood of the song is very fitting for a rave, and it can easily be performed live w/ just mg performing the song (still waiting for yunmin to join him on stage someday btw. fingers crossed). but all the previous things i mentioned pointed to the possibility that rd started remixing Autobahn w/ every intention of bringing mg to join him on stage. an edm stage, where a lot of ppl in the audience might not know who mg or atz is. it seems to me that rd was confident that mg would seamlessly fit into the his set (he did), and it speaks to how close they are as artists. that's...another thing to keep in mind, i guess?

so maybe mingi did bat his eyelashes at raiden. not just to ask to be taken care of, though, bc while mg is an adorable, curious, kind dongsaeng who listens well (most of the time), he's also outspoken, honest (sometimes to a fault), pragmatic, and most importantly: he knows his worth. he knows the value he brings into a relationship, and as he's said himself: it's important to be humble without putting urself down. maybe that's smg's appeal to ppl who are older than him, that confounding cocktail of dogged, fiery ambitions n a somewhat naive, earnest, and mischievous charm. or i'm just insane lol

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // part twenty-seven

summary: you were back in the capitol, and you would be damned if you didn't try your hardest to make it worthwhile.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.4k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: omg we're coming up on the end i could cry :') i finished writing everything and i feel like a shell of a person rn without this fic to plan and write, but i hope you guys are excited! there will be five more parts after this and then the epilogue, which brings me to some really exciting news!!

big news #1: i'm opening oneshot requests for this series!! my normal requests will remain closed but i'd love to see what you guys want for the more of this series! (link is here!)

big news #2: the end of this story is opening the doors to my third coryo series which I've been working on for a hot minute, and it'll be called requiem! (see the original request for it here to get the vibes before i post anything!)

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

The protests caught you off guard, more than anything.

It had only been two weeks since you started your classes and you were loving them, but you hated getting dropped off in the morning and picked up in the afternoon. You and Coryo could no longer eat lunch outside, and the previously full lecture halls you had occupied saw more and more students dropping out as people stood outside just to shout at you as you came and went from the school four days a week. To call you an animal, that you don't belong there, that you should be "put down" for crimes against the Capitol. What they were? You had no idea.

Suffice to say, parents were not happy that you were there.

Generally, Coryo said that people had loved you in the games. You were "harmless", and "sweet", you gave them someone to root for- but now that you were walking freely among them instead of being kept behind the bars at the zoo or trapped inside the arena awaiting your death, you were suddenly a threat.

"They... they think I'll hurt someone?" You sniff, watery eyes overflowing as you look at Coryo lying beside you in his bed.

He bites his tongue, nodding as he wipes away your tears with the hand he has resting just under your cheek on top of his pillow. "They're afraid. That's all, it's not because of anything you did."

"I won't." You cry. "I would never, you know that, right?"

"I know, love. I know that." He promises you quietly.

"I don't want people to be afraid of me. It's not fair to them... If they feel unsafe I should just drop out."

"You're not doing that." He insists with a slight shake of his head. "We'll figure it out. Okay? Don't worry about them."

You just nod softly, wiping your eyes as he pushes his arm under your neck. "C'mere." He mumbles rolling onto his back and you move closer, laying your head on his chest as he pulls you closer to his side.

Coryo did figure it out, for the most part, which is how you ended up standing in Capitol TV's studios, awaiting an interview with Lucky Flickerman, someone you definitely thought you would never see again after the games. You didn't know how Coryo did it, who he had to talk to in order to convince them to let you plead your case so publicly. Apparently, the Snow name came with more power than you knew.

"You're gonna do great, love." Coryo whispers to you. "Just be yourself, but remember what I said about your essay, right? Be honest, but think about how you word things. I know you can do it." He assures you quietly, hands resting on your shoulders.

You nod, giving him a hopeful smile. "Thank you."

"I'll be right here, I'm not going anywhere." These types of reassurances were becoming less and less necessary over the month you've been here, but still, you don't like it when he's far, and he doesn't like it when he doesn't know where you are. It worked nicely for you both.

"Miss Y/L/N, whenever you're ready." One of the crew directs you, pointing to the comfortable chair they had set up in front of a homey-looking backdrop. It was fake, but it was meant to look like you were in someone's house. The idea of it was confusing to you, but you supposed it was also unimportant. You had much bigger concerns.

"Thank you." You smile at them and give Coryo another quick nod before making your way over to the seat that they said was yours.

Coryo watches as you carefully brush your hands over the front of your dress, smoothing it as you sit down. You looked so elegant as you did it, if he didn't know better, it looked like the habits of the people you were now surrounded with were rubbing off on you quickly. He had watched you rehearse how you would carry yourself and how you would speak and act with Tigris just this morning, after she fit you into the dress she had made for the occasion. Clearly, you had been paying attention.

When you draw your hair from your back and over your shoulder so your meticulously styled curls wouldn't be crushed against the chair, Coryo thinks he might need to sit down. Especially so when you look back at him again, subtly waving at him with your hand from where they are placed in your lap. The dress Tigris had given to you was red- a deep red silky material that complimented the red of his coat and mimicked the shade of the Capitol's flag but still had you standing out on your own. Seeing the way that dress fit you and hugged your form in all the right ways even as you were sitting, he was sure he had never been more grateful to his cousin and her talents.

"Y/N, it's so good to see you again." Lucky smiles at you as he sits down across from you, adjusting the small device attached to his lapel as crew members come up to you and fasten the same thing to the front and back of your dress.

"You as well." You grin, trying the best you can to mask your nervousness.

"Are you ready? Do you need anything?" He asks and you shake your head.

"I am ready whenever you are." You confirm, looking around as some more lights flick on, bright in your eyes as the man behind the camera starts counting down.

You look over at Coryo one last time and he nods at you. It was just like your first interview all over again- you had to sell yourself to the people. To prove that you were worth trusting.

"My name is Lucretius "Lucky" Flickerman," You smile as he flips a coin up into the air. You've seen him do it before, but you still weren't sure how the trick worked. "Amateur magician and your host for everything interesting on Capitol TV, and today is certainly no exception. Today, I have a familiar face with me who I know you will all recognize as well, the Victor of the Tenth Annual Hunger Games, Miss Y/N Y/L/N." He looks over at you and you keep your eyes on him, certain that all cameras are watching you now.

"Y/N, I am so happy to have you back. How have you been?" Lucky asks you and you're already fighting off the need to fidget with your hands.

"I am very well." You smile at him. "How about yourself? It has been a while."

"I'm great, thank you! You know, I was not allowed to bet on the games, but anyone who was there can tell you that I predicted your win from the beginning. You certainly are something else."

"Oh, well thank you." You giggle. "Though, I can't fully be credited for my win. I have to thank the sponsors who allowed Coriolanus to send me food and water. That made all the difference in my game."

"Oh, most definitely." He agrees. "But you shouldn't deny your own role in that. Hiding in the vents, that was genius!" Lucky claps. "Truly, that was a jaw-dropping moment for all of us watching. I remember thinking 'wow, how did she think of that?' It was incredible!"

"Yes, well, I saw the grate and knew it was worth a try." You shrug, slightly laughing. "I had nothing to lose."

"Yes, well, I'm dying to know- what have you been up to the last few months? You went back to Twelve, and then what?"

"Oh! Yes, I did. I've been spending time with friends and family, I got a job at the local library, catching up on some reading, that sort of thing." You grin, glancing at Coryo for only a moment and he gestures for you to continue. "I got home and I really realized for the first time how much we should be appreciating everything we have- even out in the Districts where sometimes life is tough, it's key to remember how privileged we are to be alive. The games were truly eye-opening for me."

Coryo gives you a quick nod of approval, and you smile, training your view back on the man across from you.

"Yes, I agree. Live life to the fullest, that's what they say." You just nod at his response. "Which also begs the question, if you were happy back in Twelve, what brought you back to the Capitol?"

Let the lies begin.

"Well," You laugh nervously. "When I was given the opportunity to come here for the games back in July, I was so interested in everything. The people who I got to talk to, the things I got to see, it was all amazing and I was just dying for more."

"So you decided to come study at the university here, is what I've heard."

"Yes, exactly." You grin. "I just think that the Capitol has so much to offer as far as education goes, I am already learning so much and I am having so much fun doing it."

"So really, your focus is just on your education." He prompts you and you nod.

"Definitely, considering the course load I don't have time for much else, but that doesn't really bother me. Like I said, I just want to learn from the greatest minds in the nation. Even the other students, it's amazing! Everyone has earned their spot there and I can see why and all the work they have put in to be there. It's a privilege to study among them, and I am so grateful that I was given this chance."

"You say 'all the work that they put in to be there', but you didn't attend the academy, so how is it that you were admitted?"

"I filled out the same application that all the other students did, I went through all the same testing." You confirm, nodding at him. "Although," You laugh slightly. "I was only given one day to complete it all. I was locked away in my room working on it all night. I hardly had time to blink, it was tough."

"Wow!" Lucky laughs. "One day? I remember when I applied to the university, my application took months to get just right. You must have aced it all."

"I am very proud of the work I did to be admitted, yes." You smile.

"From what I hear, you should be." He agrees. "So, you're really not in it for the sake of making friends."

"Well, I certainly would love to, but it is not my priority." You nod. "But, if any of my classmates are watching, I promise I am good at proofreading and if you need a second set of eyes on your papers, I'm happy to help. I'd also love to have more people to discuss our readings with." You joke, looking into the camera for the first time.

Lucky laughs. "You've heard it here, everyone. Y/N's pitch to make some friends!"

"Yes, I suppose it was." You chuckle, smiling at him.

"Now on the topic of friends while we're getting to know you better," You tilt your head at him while he begins the question, unsure where it is going. "Back home, do you have a boyfriend? Surely he must be missing you."

"No, not at home..." You laugh, catching in the corner of your eye as Coryo shakes his head at you, his face flat of emotion. "I don't have a boyfriend. Again, that's really just not where my priorities lie at the moment. I've... I've had a very busy year, you could say." You explain hesitantly.

"Wow! A beautiful girl like you?" You laugh nervously at his response. "Capitol boys! She's smart, pretty, and single. Just saying." He says, raising his hands.

You knew his job today was to help you, to make you more likable and more normal, to humanize you, but it was still uncomfortable to hear. "Oh, please." You laugh nervously, waving a hand at him. "Like I said, I'm just here to learn. I'm not after anyone's son."

"No? Not even all the handsome boys in your classes? I'm sure there are at least a few." He teases you and your cheeks flush red.

"I wouldn't know, I'm watching the lectures." You shrug jokingly.

Coryo is trying not to lose his mind while you talk about how single you are. Not that you were much of a willing participant, and to be fair he did tell you not to indicate to them that the two of you were together. You technically weren't, if he was being totally fair, but just because it hadn't been said doesn't mean it isn't real. He knew you knew that, though. So why was he getting so mad?

He doesn't even realize how little attention he was paying after that until you're standing up and shaking Lucky's hand. It was over, you'd done everything you could have to ease the minds of scared and angry Capitol parents.

Lucky gives you a quick hug, wishing you good luck in your classes before you're allowed to rejoin Coryo. "Ready to go?" He asks and you nod.

"How did I do?" You ask as you walk out of the studio and into the hall, aiming for the elevator to take you back to ground level.

"Amazing, love. You were perfect." Coryo confirms, still noticeably tense as he walks next to you.

"Are you sure?" You ask as he presses the button to call the car up to your level, unsure since he still hasn't really looked at you.

The door opens and you both step in. "Yes." He tells you again, quickly tapping the door close button.

"Oh, good. I was really nervous..." You laugh slightly as the doors slide shut, and as soon as any light from the hall ceases to enter the elevator his hands are on you and his lips are pressed against yours.

You let out the slightest squeak out of shock, but quickly relax as Coryo rubs familiar small circles on your hips with his thumbs. How he could be so gentle as he backs you into the wall of the elevator you don't know, but you're grateful for it as you hum into his mouth. But still, something was different.

Spending so much time with you only made him want you more. He loved you, he knew that, and someplace deep in the corners of his mind, he had always wanted you in a way he never thought possible when he first fell for you before the games. Now, with you curled up under his sheets almost every night, seeing you step out of the bathroom with damp hair after a shower in pyjamas that don't fit you quite right, he thought about it more than ever. Thoughts of you plagued him more than usual, and the best way to describe the accompanying feeling was guilt. Guilt that he couldn't show you off given the circumstances- at least not yet.

He trails his kisses away from your lips and across your jaw, pulling you tighter against him. "You're so beautiful, my love..." He mumbles into the skin just below your ear, leaving a kiss in his wake that has your head spinning.

You giggle, eyes fluttering open. "What has gotten into you?" You ask, hands sliding up over his chest to rest on his shoulders.

"I can't tell my girlfriend that I think she's gorgeous?" He asks, shaking his head slightly as he looks down into your eyes.

"Oh, so I am your girlfriend." You giggle and he nods, kissing you again.

"Of course you are, and don't forget it." He chuckles, pulling back from you as the elevator stops moving, waiting for the doors to open.

Your skin is flushed down to your chest as the doors slide apart and even though he's not touching you anymore, you can feel the ghost of his hands on you. You look up at him, a lingering smirk still on his face as he looks straight ahead and leads you out of the car.

The phone rang at the time you were eating dinner, and you quickly asked if you could be excused to go answer it. Coryo and Tigris both just nodded at you, but you could still feel their grandmother's eyes burning into your back as you quickly walked away. She still wasn't fond of you, but she tolerated you. For now, that was just enough.

You grab the phone off the receiver as the small round screen flickers to life. "Hello?" You answer, hopeful that it would finally be your family you see on the other side.

You had answered every call that came to the Snow's apartment for weeks, waiting anxiously to hear their voices again.

"Y/N, is that you, honey?"

You gasp with excitement when you get a clear enough view of your ma. "Ma! Hi!" You smile, leaning in a little closer to get a more clear view as the camera on their end begins to adjust. This was likely the first time it was being used.

"Oh, honey, how good it is to see you!" She smiles, and out of nowhere, you feel hot tears welling up in your eyes.

"You too, Ma." You nod, biting into your lower lip. You didn't want to cry so quickly into the call. "How are you? How's everything at home?"

"Same old." She shakes her head with a slight laugh. "I'm much more interested in you- how is everything? How is school? And how is Tybalt settling in? How are you settling in? My goodness, I just have so many questions!"

You laugh, quickly wiping a stray tear. You had told them about all of this in letters, of course, but she just wanted to hear you say it all. "Everything is good. School has been so lovely, Coryo walks me to all my classes and we eat lunch together between. And Tybalt just loves it here! They have a garden on the roof, and I take him up there as often as I can. Tigris won't stop giving him treats either so he couldn't be happier."

You look down at the animal as he brushes against your leg, looking up at you.

"That's amazing. I've been so worried, it's just so good to see your face again. God, we've been missin' you..."

"I miss you too." You agree, careful not to choke on your tears. "How is Len? And have you seen Lucy Gray and the Covey?"

"He's... He's doing alright." Your mother looks off-screen, and you assume he must be there. The look on her face, one of nervousness and hesitation tells you he doesn't want to speak to you. "But Lucy Gray has been around every day, she and Maude Ivory come over and they help me with hanging the laundry and such... It's been good to have them around."

You smile sadly, nodding slightly with the receiver pressed to your ear. You felt bad about that aspect of leaving- you spent as much time as you could before the games helping out around the house, but even in the summer when you came back you weren't much help. Your mother wouldn't let you do dishes all summer, for fear that the sight of a knife might set you off. She knew you came back a different person, and she wasn't taking any risks. All she really allowed you to do was hang laundry and "keep her company" while she did other home chores. But now, she didn't even have that.

"Can I speak to him?" You ask, referring to your brother who you knew was there.

She nods, waving off camera and holding her hand over the wrong part of the phone. "Lennox, come over here. Y/N wants to talk to you."

His response is muffled, but you make out the gist of it. 'I don't want to talk to her'.

"She's your sister, Lennox. You can't ignore her forever."

'If she wants to talk, she should come home.'

Your heart clenches in your chest and you chew your lip. You have to pretend you couldn't hear, but you just felt so horribly guilty. You shouldn't have left, but he doesn't understand you had no choice. He wouldn't be able to understand until you could come home and see him again, likely not until the summer. Coryo had told you to be mindful of what you write in letters and what you say on the phone, it's possible others were listening. The Capitol was always listening.

"He's just a little busy right now, honey." She smiles at you, but you can see right through it. "But tell me about your day! Did you have class?"

taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl ,  @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs, @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie,  @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore , @strawberryflavouredkisses, @cascadingbliss

okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!

also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)

[lightlycareless]

naoya would be the type of man to post instagram reels of his physique except everything’s overly saturated with bass booted phonk music in the bg and the caption would say sum stupid shit like crying is gay and alll the redpill mfs would eat it up

i—can't say that's not true. This man is some kind of ironic shitposter that I don't think he truly understand what it is to be one, like, he'd have people gathering around his pages and he thinks it's genuine but they're all making fun of him hahahaha. Or not, because I've seen enough of the internet to think otherwise 🙃

anyways, I decided to write a trope I enjoy putting Naoya and Y/N into. Not sure if that was the intention of the ask (for me to write something) but I take all that I can get from my inbox 😈 so I hope you enjoy it hahaha.

warnings: naoya hates women and he's an absolute piece of shit BUT read to the end. tiny mentions of private parts, he's just being gross. minors DNI.

happy reading!!

This ask presents one of those scenarios where Naoya is an insufferable man having built a career and reputation by doing “alpha male” content (typing this made me cringe), obviously that means degrading women, inviting his followers to send him links of women for him to critique berate, followed by advice of things we already where it’s going.

It’s through one of these ratings that you came into his attention, one of his followers thought you were too good to be true and undoubtedly, putting up a show to pull all the simps onto your page and get their money; because why else would you be doing content about the things girls don’t normally partake in like videogames?? There’s no way you actually understand what the hell it is that you’re doing in that game, there’s probably someone telling you what to do in a covertly disguised earpiece or something.

Naturally, none of Naoya’s commentary is constructive nor relating to your content. He goes all in on your appearance and demeanor, followed by the seeming shock of your absent you know which page, which he was 100% sure you had because why wouldn’t you.

With a poor rating barely saved from the worst just because of some pity points you earned through your attractiveness, Naoya considers his job done, his followers satisfied, and moves onto his next victim.

His fans would sometimes bring you up in his future streams with the hope of stirring the pot and getting to hear more of that destructive criticism these incels simply thrive to hear on. However, he ignores them, citing that he doesn’t enjoy revisiting leftovers when there’s so many new faces to pick on. Some keep insisting by some strange reason, but eventually let the whole topic quiet down when Naoya keeps ignoring them.

But in reality… they don’t even know half of the things that occur behind the scenes.

When Naoya portrayed himself as uninterested, in a couldn’t care less attitude…

He couldn’t be any more involved in your life. Greatly so.

The truth is, the two were actually together. Dating.

Have been for a while, didn’t take long after the two met in college, just a few dates and that was it.

However, it was agreed upon that for the sake of his reputation (heir to a rich corporation, his family would probably deem you unsuitable, if not disown him for going against their word…) it would be kept a secret. Which is why he was a bit alarmed when his followers eventually brought you up to him, instinctively fearing they might’ve found out of his secret relationship and how he essentially built a platform out of being a liar (dating a girl from a different background than you is a no-no but this is fine? Zen’in hypocrisy at its finest)

Because obviously, he doesn’t practice what he preaches. Not with you, never. When it comes to his beloved princess, he’s what his platform would call a simp. Probably more than that because there is nothing he wouldn’t do for you. Whatever you desire, just say the word, and it’s yours.

Do you agree with his content, the dangerous messages he’s spreading? Absolutely not. Which is why… you don’t know about it.

How he managed to keep you out of the loop for so long (and subsequently those around you) is… outstanding. Who would’ve known that by blocking you and your friends you’d be safe from the beast that is the internet? All that you’re aware regarding his social media presence is that profile he only uses to keep in contact with you and upload photos of his physique—he loves it when you gush at his appearance, there’s no way he’s closing that account— solely per your request, that is.

Unfortunately for him, since you also have somewhat of a prominent presence in the internet, and a very loyal fanbase as well, it doesn’t take long before one of your followers share what nasty piece of mind Naoya had to share to the world, leading to an awkward, heated conversation between the two.

One that effectively lands him on the couch, just because you’re still merciful (and deeply in love with him, after all) to not kick him out of the apartment.

He’ll only regain his privileges back if he gets his act right, and denounces whatever stupidity he’s been spewing on the internet.

This is where true conflict begins.

Had he chosen to practice what he preached, he would’ve dumped you right then and there. Proclaim that he, as a strong, oh so important alpha male, to seek the validation of a woman was beneath him. He had no reason to entertain your suffocating demands against his virility! To deny what leaders like him should be doing anyways! Not when he could easily find another cunt to satisfy him, another bitch that ought to know her place by keeping quiet and serve him.

But that’s just the thing, isn’t it? As much as he wishes to fool himself, there really isn’t anyone else like you out there.

Naoya still struggles to accept this truth, of course. The fragile, sensible part of him wants to brush all of this as simply being under the spell of your bewitching (yes, delusional) pussy. It’s the only good thing you have! A tight, warm hole that always puts him in a good mood after he’s done using it—replenishing him with energy, motivation! As if it were a drug of sorts—and diligent hands that simply know what they’re doing. Where to touch, what to caress… when to tease and when to oblige. All for his sole use.

Of course, that’s the only reason why he’s bothering to clean up his act.

Not because of the warm cuddles and sweet kisses you give him after a long day of work. Your tinkling voice calling out for him the moment he steps into the apartment —"Darling, you’re home!” And just like that, his exhaustion is gone— alongside the smell of his favorite meals, already waiting for him in the dining room; you always made sure to keep him fed and healthy, far more than his family bothered to care at least. Or anyone for that matter.

And most importantly… how you treat him. How you see him. Him! Not the heir of the privileged Zen’in company, or a promising student. To you, he’s the love of your life, possibility a future husband and father to your children. Before his influence and fortune, he’s simply… your Naoya.

….

…

…

Yeah, to hell with those losers. Those idiots might proclaim to want something else but deep down, he knows they’d budge to the smallest glimpse of female attention. He knows his kind, what goes on in their mind.

But he’ll no longer be of that same fabric nor care to fit in—happily proving so when he deletes all of his social media, the platform he diligently built up with his message of hatred gone that very night you kicked him out to the living room.

Some naturally seek for answers upon noticing his absence, others attempt to fill the vacuum he left behind, while the rest simply move onto whatever other “prophet” they can find. Yet none of these things matter to Naoya, not when he has far more important matters to attend to, like using his time to make it up to you.

Prove that none of those things hold any value to him anymore, for he already has what’s most precious in his life.

i mean that pussy does contribute to him being whipped but its NOT the sole reason hahahahahhah it reminds me of that cringe tiktok video I saw many moons ago where a so-called alpha is being comforted by his partner uwu; it's awful, but I gotta say, y/n and naoya sometimes strike me as the type of people to do that :)

also, there's no way y/n wouldn't know what the fuck is going on with her boyfriend on the internet, because you have people like gojo and geto that just enjoy being on everyone's business so the moment they know something's up, naoya lives to regret it. maybe don't play stupid games next time.