#(now that I work as a librarian I’m finding new inspiration to return to her story)

[soulsmuses]

Weirdly enough I want to make a DA Library Au. It’s a job I have irl and writing about relatable personal experiences tend to be fun. Guess I gotta dust off my AO3 account.

[doctorstephenvincentstrange]

What If S1E4 Meta: The True “Heart”

The same way Stephen couldn’t let go of Christine in the fourth installment of What If...?, I haven’t been able to shake this episode off and out of my head since watching it. I’m pretty sure it’s put me through the grieving process. Lately, it’s been haunting me like a ghost, and while mentally revisiting it for the fourteen millionth time, I realized something BRUTAL that I just had to share ASAP!

Hear me out, homies. What if...

The running theme and title of the episode was Stephen Strange losing his “heart.” But although the setup and storyline seems to suggest the euphemism refers to Christine Palmer, it doesn’t! The “heart” of Stephen Strange is not the girl of his dreams he lost in that car accident, but the greater man he had gained.

OK LISTEN. Let me have a shot to show you what I see (even in shite quality, pardon my crappy screenshots). Let’s start with the DS1 recap, 'cuz I’m still not over the first movie, either, and it’s relevant.

Like the watcher explained, after the devastating and tragic death of the love of his life, Stephen Strange began to look for answers. Not different from Stephen Strange of the sacred timeline, he was obsessed with reversing the great loss and trauma he’d endured. It was with the same perfectionism that made him a great surgeon, that Stephen sought the power to “find his own way back.”

... By any means necessary. 

They both discover that “power” they were searching for when they stumble upon time magic. However, Stephen is lectured that time magic is something that could risk the stability of the universe, and should never be done lightly and certainly never for the sake of one person over all others. Although harm is not his nature and Stephen doesn’t want to hurt anyone, he struggles to give up on his quest to heal his hands, or alternatively, to resurrect Christine. He was told a solution wasn’t out there, but found it in the Book of Cagliostro.

Despite every person that told him it couldn’t be done, Stephen can’t accept that. He won’t admit there’s nothing that can be done, there has to be something he can do. He’s conceited with the delusion he can alter his past to better his present. And he won’t be swayed of it.

But when the Ancient One fell, Stephen Strange rose to take her place and fend against the invading Dormammu. He saw for the first time the world that was so much bigger than him, that he could do so much good for, more than good only for himself. He saw the millions of lives that had not yet been lost to tragedy he could prevent and save from it, even if not what hardships had already been done and could not be undone in his own life. Things he could save, not fix.

And it wasn’t his own life he saved with that time magic in the end, but earth itself. And Stephen Strange became something much bigger than himself. No matter what he’d lost in that car accident, he learned there was still much more he could gain, regardless of what he’d lost. He didn’t need to fix his hands. They were still good.

Better than his brilliant mind, was his beautiful heart. 

His capacity for goodness, not greatness.

And yet, for all the good he’d achieved and learned, on the two year anniversary of Christine’s death, Stephen can’t help but get sucked into his past, and in a moment of weakness, allow his grief power over him once more. He can’t stop reliving the past. He loops it over and over again, trying to reverse fate, trying to find a way to spare Christine and find that “miracle” that must exist to spare her.

The Ancient One has sensed his presence and meddling with the Eye of Agamotto, and warns Stephen that the path he had set himself on would lead him only to more pain. When Stephen refuses to be reasoned with, the Ancient One brandishes him with a single blow before he escapes into the past. He thinks she missed. She didn’t.

SHOT THROUGH THE HEART, AND YOU’RE TO BLAME! DARLING YOU GIVE LOVE A BAD NAME!

But *ahem* seriously, notice how Stephen was struck mid center his chest, directly over his heart. It was in that moment that Stephen Strange lost his “heart,” as the Ancient One had knocked it out of him, just as she had knocked him out of his own oversized head when they first met. Theory: she cast a spell to separate Stephen’s heart from his mind, the two halves that make one complete man.  

Because even if Stephen Strange’s mind was still set on Christine Palmer, his heart had been changed, and there was still hope for it. And Stephen Strange’s heart had enough with “living in the past for one day,” and chose instead to share drinks with Wong.

Meanwhile, Stephen’s “mind” searched the Library of Cagliostro for a way to reverse an absolute point and save Christine. Eventually, he found the answer he was looking for. He needed more power, that could be obtained by otherworldly creatures. Now, harm is not in Stephen’s nature. On his first attempt, he actually tries asking “nicely,” and ends up getting ass kicked.

O’Bengh, the librarian of the books of Cagliostro, patches up his body and tries to warn Stephen. He may have lost his heart, but if he he keeps going at this rate, he was well on his way to losing his mind.

But Stephen didn’t heed those words of warning. He distorted his body, darkened himself with every sacrifice he made for Christine’s sake. So caught up in the memory of Christine’s greatness, Stephen had forgotten he’d once had one of his own. Christine was all he saw. 

So obsessed with her, he lost himself.

When Strange returns to O’Bengh’s side, the librarian has aged and is dying. He reveals the passage of centuries Stephen has spent devoted to this madness. As someone Stephen thinks of as a friend passes away, Stephen can’t think to cherish these last moments or listen carefully to his final words. All he can think is to use his magic to spare O’Bengh, which O’Bengh refuses, trying one last time to reach through to Stephen before giving up and leaving hope to the “heart” to be strong enough to withstand and stop him.

*Wink, wink, wink.* Do you see it now?

Now, onto the confrontation between heart and mind. Stephen’s mind can’t achieve anything if his heart isn’t in it, and I love the symbolism of that. He must get it on board first, unite on both fronts.

Stephen’s heart can recognize that this isn’t love, but the work of his broken mind lost in a delusion. And Stephen’s so far gone down the rabbit hole, he won’t even listen to his heart. Instead he ignores it, even burns the cloak of levitation... the very symbol of his finding something new that could uplift him after spending so long down on his knees in the past... and he burnt it to ash. When his heart won’t be persuaded, he resorts to trickery, attempting to con his heart with the same delusion that haunts his mind. It’s the same Christine that Stephen first was hung up imagining when he picked up the eye of the Agamotto and got himself into this mess, his trump card.

But again, the heart cannot be deceived. It knows Christine is dead, and it realizes the fantasy his mind is pursuing is not the same as the Christine they once knew and loved. More importantly, his heart remembers that there are other people who need him now, people that are not beyond saving. And the mind is done playing.

If his heart won’t come willing, then he’ll just have to beat it into submission until it can’t make a single sound of protest, and then swallow it whole. Stephen makes the ultimate sacrifice the Ancient One had tried so hard to prevent, and abandons that heart she saw so much potential in and inspired her to teach him.

This episode AMAZINGLY tackles the narcissism and arrogance that hides in specific shades of grief and depression. In believing our problems are greater than anyone else’s, that no one else could understand as Stephen insisted “they didn’t know her!” The selfishness that comes with refusing to see the world or those around you that still need you and choosing instead to chase the memory of the ones you’ve already lost, who are beyond saving. If we choose those delusions over our reality, in the end, we will lose everything, and the ones who will pay the price for your arrogance won’t be you, but the ones you loved. Even the memory of the one you loved, that you twisted to fit your mold. There’s a selfishness in seeing only the bad of what was rather than the good of what could come.

Unless you want to end up alone inside a cold and empty shell, maybe it’s time to listen to your heart, and move on.

[blackcherrykiss]

BLOOD BOUNDARIES - Enhypen OT7 Fanfic (ch.5)

[CH.1] [CH.2] [CH.3] [CH.4]  previous chapters

[CH.6] next chapter (now available!)

genre: vampire au, romance, drama, mystery, thriller

note: written inspired by enhypen's storyline, given-taken lyrics & teasers. please keep in mind all members are apart of this fanfic and the main theme is mystery/drama!

P.S Niki and Sunoo's roles become bigger in later chapters :) sorry I took 2 weeks to update. School + new enhypen teasers made me alter the story now jesus their lore is confusingly interesting. Didn't proofread half of this chapter LOL. Happy readings <3

"Well now that everyone is here, I'd like to announce we have a new student who just transferred here." Your eyes were immediately drawn to the student's platinum blonde hair. Despite his sharp and charismatic face, his eyes were delicate and innocent. He had an exceptionally small face and a sunkissed skin tone. The new student snapped himself around so that the entire classroom got a good look at him, "Hello, my name is Park Jongseong or Jay, call me whatever you feel." He bowed slightly, his voice having a cool ring that played over in your head.

"Everybody please welcome Jay to our astronomy class. Lend him any of our previous notes because midterms are coming up and I'd appreciate as a teacher if you guys helped him catch up before our long weekend coming up in two weeks." Your teacher gave a warm smile, nodding in such a way that made the rest of the class nod with her.

Without a student saying a word, everyone's eyes followed him as he took a seat at a desk a couple of rows in front of you.

You stared at him tirelessly, barely listening as your teacher rambled off-topic. You noticed Jay often stared out at the crying sky that occasionally flickered with lightning. His eyes focused intently on the woods. You were sure you weren't the only one who was interested in the new boy as you frequently caught other students glancing over at him every few seconds. Jay carried an attractive and dark aura that clearly contrasted from the crowd. Both girls and boys stared at him not because of his pretty face but because he was far different from the new students who had joined your school mid-semester.

The class flew by for you because of Jay until a simple but intriguing question was purposed by the teacher, "Bonus marks today if anyone can guess when the next full moon is." she lifted her eyes off the projector for a few moments, waiting for answers to come sailing.

"Saturday?" Somebody from the front called out, followed by numerous answers that ranged between the second week to the fourth week of the month.

"Come on now. Don't blurt out, give others chances to guess. Jay why don't you guess?" Your teacher questioned welcomingly, expecting no answer from him.

He leaned back in his chair, scraping the non-writing end of his ballpen on his thumb, "November 30." A gentle sound of thunder playing perfectly when he said the answer; like some sort of scene out of a comic.

"Ding ding ding!" Your teacher switched to a PowerPoint slide with the new unit name bolded, "I know this isn't part of the curriculum but I got it approved by the head of the school." She took a breath, giving students time to comprehend what was presented in front of them. "Our next unit will be looking deeper at the moon. More specifically, we'll be looking at both the sciency and non-sciency sides of this topic. And before anyone asks; no, you don't need to believe in astrology or superstitions to understand the non-sciency material. It's just very fascinating because it connects to many cultures." Your attention was now far away from Jay. You were enthusiastic about a topic for once in the class.

"And looks like we're running out of time." Your teacher's wrist clock blocking her eyes. "That's it for today's class everyone! I'll have your projects marked for next class, I promise! Have a good day." She said while shutting off the projector.

You slid all your handouts into your binder, not bothering to align the three-hole punches of the papers to their designated rings.

"Y/N before you go, do you mind helping out Jay? Today or tomorrow?" Your teacher stopped you on your way out.

"Like lend him my notes?"

"Yep! I just forgot to ask but he just left so you might be able to catch up to him. Maybe ask if he's got the notes yet."

You waved your goodbyes and chased the new boy down, his uniquely blonde hair standing out from the hallway of heads. You picked up the pace to catch up with his swift steps when you caught him chatting with Sunghoon and Jaeyun. Your feet froze straight down in their place.

Were they new friends? Or perhaps they were old friends?

You weren't going to bother talking to Jay as you already knew what kind of funny business would come up if you did. You could only watch them swing and lean their arms against each other in a close and friendly way. The picture was becoming more and more clear to you as to what kind of association Jay had with Sunghoon and Jaeyun perhaps even Heeseung, Sunoo or Jungwon.

...

You throw yourself violently over your thick mattress after finishing a long study and homework session at your dorm. The session wasn't productive but the time you spent surrounded by your schoolwork made it feel that way. Your dorm was awfully quiet that afternoon as your dormmates had music rehearsals for their extracurriculars. Nana had told you to come by the music rooms around a quarter past five when their practice was over to go down to the dining hall and have dinner but you couldn't think of a way to kill your remaining hour alone.

Phones were forbidden in your school and you often felt uncontrollably alone and bored with your thoughts during your free time. You could only lay tangled in your bed with your half progressed work in the corner of your eye. You shift on one side to watch your wide-open binder until you got some burst of motivation to finish studying until an idea hits you.

After eyeing your handouts from your astronomy class, you decide to hit the library and do some reading to get a little advanced in the class. Sure you could study for your other class but the sudden idea was far more worth your time in your mind. You quickly twirl out of your room, clearing your desk while you're at it. Excitedly, you hop into your shoes and head straight for the library. You were put in a good mood as you skipped along the long journey to the bookhouse.

The library was moderately packed as you don't bother to recognize any faces there. You get deja vu as you trail the same path you did when Sunghoon and Kyungeun were around. Sliding between the thin space between the bookshelves once again, you search for the section related to the moon, feeling dizzy at the sight of books your school owned. You could've made your life easier by asking the librarian but you were confident you could find it on your own. You move up and down the aisles as you catch a glimpse of theoretical and astrology related books that sit next to a couple of history books.

Backing up, you awkwardly bend your knees forward to get a better look at the small selection of books under the genre. You peel a random book spine out from its tight spot as if it had never been taken out before. You dust off the book a bit, reading the wordless cover and open it to check if it was really related to any sort of astronomy as you find a much stranger subject being discussed.

"Finding everything alright?" The librarian comes by, pushing a kart from the other end of the shelves. "I-I'm looking for books related to the moon." You say, standing up and forgetting you still had the old book in hand.

"The scientific information is just on the other side of this shelf but the section you were just looking at has some interesting stuff that might be related." The librarian stuffed herself in between the shelves to get toward you.

"Yeah, I noticed... This book I just picked up was talking about vampires." You laugh a little as you hold it up.

"Ah, that book..." She paused, snatching the book out of your hands to examine it, "I read this before... It relates to astrology. I think there are some parts of the book that go into detail about the moon, you should give it a read."

"Is this book just theoretical research about vampires though?" You were unconvinced with the idea.

"Yeah, real or not, our school grounds and the neighbouring town are talked about in the book. Apparently many years ago this place used to be a hotspot for vampires."  She looked you dead in the eyes.

"Do you think the information is true?" You questioned with deep curiosity upon her answer.

"Some information in there is haunting. I think vampires did exist." She said with some sort of distress beginning to seep into her face.

Shivers ran down your spine, if she was just trying to sell you the book, it was working damn well on you.

"I'll leave you be, no need to sign out the book, nobody ever takes it out so I trust you'll return it." And with that said, she left you cold with mystery as the book between your fingers stared at you with big round eyes.

You shake back to reality, checking your wrist just to find out your time has vanished. You shift your priorities to getting to the music department, throwing the book into your bag without much thought.

...

The sun was already going down around the afternoon as the days got shorter with autumn blossoming. You're standing between rooms full of beautiful voices and instruments, peering through every window attached to a door in an attempt to find your roommates. The issue was the widows didn't give much of a view as to who was in the rooms. But your ears were drawn to a gentle piano that played a bittersweet melody beneath the louder sounds of people singing in a harmonious glee. As you move in the forward direction of the hallway, the piano gets clearer to your ears. It became clear that the sound was coming out of a room with its door wide open. Your back attached it to the wall in fear of being seen as slide yourself until you meet the spine of the door where you could see into the shadowy room.

Your eyes lit up when they see a familiar platinum blondie behind the keys. The melody was enchanting and was played in such a personal way as the sounds escaped into the noisy environment where it hoped to go unheard. Jay had reached the final notes of his song as he turned his head in your direction. It was as if he knew of your present from the moment you started watching him from the doorway.

[emmys-grimoire]

Lesson 52 - Bittersweet Pseudo-Memories

It wasn’t what I wanted, but it was good for what it was?

When we last left our heroes, they were having their intimate moment intruded upon by Big Majestic Chicken Lucifer, who demands to know who they are. You can try to evade the question, but he continues to be an asshole and you have to relent and continue to pretend you and ‘Sully’ are angels. Lucifer pretends to believe you and proceeds to make you do his chores.

Lucifer proceeds to complain about Raphael dumping all his work onto him and Satan implies that Lucifer is letting the other angel bully him... and he’s not actually wrong. I’m not sure why Lucifer just couldn’t say “no” -- it’s not like he isn’t willing to in other contexts.

But Satan also can’t help himself, and it’s very clear early on that Lucifer knows he isn’t an angel. We are escorted to the library to sort books.

NEEEEEEEERD. Satan is a natural librarian, of course.

Lucifer continues to opine about his situation and Satan continues to needle him about it. There’s a cute moment when Lucifer admits there are few angels he can turn to for help or advice, and by contrast he feels Satan might be worth confiding in because he’s a fellow level-headed intellectual.

D’aaaaw. My only complaint is that he doesn’t really do this in the story; it’s only now being brought up for a bonding opportunity. The most we get is acknowledgement that Lucifer has a high opinion of Satan’s wealth of knowledge and expertise... he hasn’t really taken advantage of it. 

It could be because the Avatar of Pride doesn’t feel he needs advice from anyone else.

The book comes up again, but...

It’s used as a trap to capture ‘Sully’ and reveal he is what Lucifer suspected he was: a demon. 

Yeah I did but the game insists I be an unobservant moron for the plot to continue.

In my lesson 51 analysis I theorized the numbers in the title of the mysterious book related to a particular Bible verse meant to encourage believers to keep their faith, and while I can’t be 100% sure that’s what it was meant to allude to, this exchange seems to suggest it could have been. This arc is meant to instill Satan with more faith in Lucifer, because he’s constantly doubting his intent throughout this lesson.

But we discover that Lucifer has changed from who he was before we startled meddling in time travel dreams, by his own admission. You can probably make a good guess to who is responsible for that change (it’s actually not MC, though, believe it or not!).

Yep, it’s Diavolo.

Diavolo doesn’t act the way Lucifer expected a demon to behave and it’s confusing him.

But he likes him, and he has had some time to digest that. Glory Days Lucifer would never have admitted this to anyone, let alone strangers.

D’aaaaw.

Lucifer then turns his attention towards MC and asks about what they are. If you’re truthful, you get this interesting tidbit of information:

Michael has been scoping out Solomon before the Great Celestial War. Whatever for, I wonder? I don’t think angels offer pacts, and I suspect Solomon was a bit of a troublemaker even before he was given Michael’s ring.

My guess? Michael is Solomon’s guardian angel. It is probably the closest equivalent to forging a pact that angels have.

Yeah... I just told you I was a human lol.

A HUMAN.

(Nah I know it’s pretty obvious that we’re SPECIAL, at this point.)

Lucifer takes us to Simeon and the brothers, who are gathered in presumably Michael’s observatory-to-be. Lucifer decides to hi-jack Michael’s fun and steals the first chance to see the human world’s night sky for himself and his family. It is projected onto the walls of the room.

You can suggest Michael might be mad, and Lucifer makes it clear he gives no fucks.

The other option makes him explain he believes he’s owed this because Michael keeps making him go to the Devildom and never volunteers himself lol

The brothers marvel at the spectacle, and they wonder about the stories behind each constellation. Mammon suggests Michael likely knows all about them, and Satan proceeds to nerd out again AND POTENTIALLY STEALS THAT MEMORY by making himself the one who teaches his brothers about the stars.

But, it’s Satan’s at his best, and he enjoys it thoroughly.

You and the brothers eventually doze off, and Satan wakes you up to share some private reflections.

Cute.

You realize Lucifer and Simeon are nowhere to be found, and run off to go see what they’re up to. They’re having a private moment of their own.

Simeon’s happy but sad. :(

Yeah. I’ll have more to say about this particular moment in my analysis post. There’s a noteworthy parallel at play here.

Ruh roh. I think Simeon and Michael may have suspected Diavolo played a part in pushing Lucifer away from the Celestial Realm. If given the opportunity, I sense Simeon may have tried to talk him out of this doubt.

But he isn’t given the opportunity! We pass out and the screen goes black, accompanied by some creepy heartbeats. When we come to, we’re back in reality and in the care of Luke and Mammon.

Wow you guys had an exciting time being shoved offscreen didn’t you?

They puzzle over what transpired and Luke and Mammon confess they don’t remember anything of what happened after they stepped into the fake House of Lamentation.

Furthermore...

I was correct in my theory that it was an illusion, but it seems it was the work of regular ol’ fairies and not some creepy banshee. That was a red herring, apparently. It’s even more anti-climatic than expected.

Additionally, Satan unknowingly covered himself in fairy crack before he dropped in.

My question is: how the fuck does Simeon know all this? Did he hang out with fairies once upon a time?

They decide to give up the hunt for the fairy ring and return home.

NOOOO THEY MADE LUKE CRY

If it were up to me I would have gone back and punched some fairies into submission until they forked over the ring, Luke. I’m sorry!

Of course, there’s not enough sleeper cars now that Simeon and Satan unexpectedly joined the party. Guess what they proceed to fight over!

You flex your pacts to make Mammon and Satan stop squabbling.

Are we sure Lucifer and Michael are the only angel sadists?

Simeon takes an unusual amount of delight in the suffering or discomfort of others lol

I think he’s just much better at hiding it.

Either way, it’s obvious he’s bothered by something, and after some deflection and prying he finally fesses up.

Michael and Simeon want them back BAD.

We finally get our first opportunity to get all sappy with Simeon here. 

Well I was right about which trial this was supposed to be, at least!

Luke and Mammon are on the roof squabbling about constellations again.

You’re treated to a mini-quiz about them. Have Google at the ready.

You find out there’s a constellation involving the seven brothers in the Celestial Realm, that was created (or at least named) after they fell.

They begin to theorize what the other three stars may represent. Mammon thinks it’s Michael and the stars represent his face.

Satan chimes in with a much better take.

I think Satan’s mostly right, but the stars represent Diavolo/Michael/MC specifically: the three “guardians” of their respective realms, all of whom have deep connections with the brothers.

Solomon can also count as a guardian, but I don’t feel he has the same connection with the brothers that those three have.

And it turns out this was two trials!

I completely forgot that generosity and gratitude were two of the virtues Solomon listed, so it’s not a complete copy of the seven virtues. But hey, it’s now four down and three to go!

We have eight more lessons to complete the remaining three, so we have plenty of time. But... what about the overarching plot? I was certain that something in this arc would finally jumpstart it, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.

But... maybe there was something hiding in there? I’ll go over the more important bits in my analysis post.

There’s still plenty of lore they haven’t covered re: the Celestial Realm and most of it has just been fluff. Satan’s creation remains a mystery: so far we’ve learned the Seraphim are assholes and Lucifer is overworked, but the latter is nothing new and I highly doubt that inspires enough visceral rage to make Lucifer absolutely hate his dad. We don’t know how the war unfolded and we don’t know why Simeon was demoted from his post. How things went is a big determining factor in trying to deduce Michael’s part in everything, and what he’s currently planning.

I’m hoping they get around to all the juicy bits, but I don’t know...

[itshardcandy]

Stormy Night

Kim Seokjin x Reader

Written for my fav moot bc I love her @a-noona-mous ❤️

~1.3k words

Genre: Strangers to lovers (kind of), fluff

Warnings: None, except for one (1) awful pun

-----

“Noona, I need your help... again”

The grumpy guy from last night leaned over the counter,

“You know that book you recommended yesterday? I already finished it and I need a new one”

He explained, an innocent smile gracing his lips. You sighed and pulled of your glasses,

“You know, you’ve been coming here for the last two weeks straight; by now I would think that you know what kind of novel I’ll recommend”

You replied. You watched the gears in his head turn a little at your statement. This guy had basically been harassing you for the last two weeks; coming in every night and asking for new books to read. If your professor didn’t make this library work a requirement for your research position, you would have gotten the heck out of here already because sitting behind this counter for 8 hours a day had not been as much fun as he promised it would be.

“But I like hearing you talk about them, first”

He schmoozed and you couldn’t help but smile. He was kind of cute, though, the harasser; tall, broad shoulders, handsome face with beautiful, full lips... You had to respect his determination; and since he had never really been annoying our outright rude in his clumsy advances, you humoured him.

“You like hearing me talk about the fluffiest, most cliché romance novels ever written? That’s a first” You joked and he huffed, as if you had insulted him,

“Of course, you always make it sound so romantic”,

“Well, that’s the point, isn’t it? Of a romance novel?”,

“I guess but most of the time it sounds stupid and overrated. Most of the time I think ‘Why beat a dead horse’ but you always find a new perspective. I like that. It’s inspiring”,

“Huh... thanks, I guess”

You were taken aback at his sincerity. You had not expected such a reply and you had to admit, it made your cheeks feel a little hot. You prided yourself on the fact that you were able to enjoy romance novels for what they were and not what they were made out to be and it was refreshing to have someone recognise the same thing.

He smiled at you, knowing he had said something good right there,

“So, will you show me a new one?”

You leaned back in your chair and regarded him carefully. This felt like a defining moment in your, up until now, friendly and professional relationship. Were you ready to succumb to his flirting? You definitely had some real good reads in mind for him but they were a little more on the raunchy side and you weren’t sure what kind of message that would send, or what message you wanted to send, in the first place...

“You know what? I think I have something... let me check where to find it”,

“Ah Noona, I knew you wouldn’t let me down”

You smiled and caught him winking before you turned your attention towards your computer screen to check the shelf number for that particular thing you had in mind. He waited patiently as you typed the criteria in extra slowly.

“Ok, it’s in the back, far end of the hall to the right, shelf number 36 section D. It’s called “Stormy night”. You’ll find it, I’m sure”

You explained and he nodded,

“Alright, I’ll try my best”

He walked a few steps backwards, holding your gaze for a few seconds before he turned and walked right into one of the shelves.

“Ow, fuck...” he mumbled and rubbed the back of his head before he awkwardly checked whether you had noticed. Of course, you had; you thought about warning him but you also needed some entertainment once in a while. You hid your laugh behind your hand and watched him disappear into the maze of shelves.

A few minutes later he still hadn’t returned and you wondered if he had gotten lost. Which was of course a little unlikely but you could never know. You rose from your seat to have a better view of the room but you couldn’t spot him anywhere. He was likely strolling around between the tall shelves in the back, trying to find the book. You sighed and sat back down and tried to focus back on your work instead of his orientational issues. He would have to be fine on his own for now. Suddenly the phone rang and you jumped a little at the sudden noise.

“Jeez...”

You mumbled before picking up,

“University library services, how can I help?”,

“So uh, I think I’m lost”,

“Lost?”,

“Yeah, see... the cute librarian at the counter gave me directions to one of the shelves but I just can’t seem to find it”

Oh, you realised. It was him calling. You covered the speaker with one hand and tried to laugh quietly.

“Well, we can’t have that. What kind of help do you need, Sir?”,

“It would be great if you could send someone out here to help me find it”

You could hear the smirk in his voice,

“Of course, where are you right now?”,

“I’m at the right shelf, I just need help with finding the book”

He said and you shook your head in disbelief while chuckling to yourself,

“I’ll send someone over”,

“Can’t you come yourself?”,

“Well, I’m really busy at the moment, I don’t know if I can abandon my post like this...”,

“What if I ask really nicely?”,

“I guess I can make an exception, you sound like you’re in dire need of help”,

“Definitely”,

“Stay put, I’ll be right out”

You hung up and left your place behind the counter, smoothing your skirt and blouse as you navigated through the shelf maze.

You spotted him soon enough, leaning against the dark wood, watching you approach,

“So, you can’t find the book, hm?”

You teased as you walked up to him and he pushed off the shelf, standing at full height,

“Yeah, this is all so confusing”

He gestured to the mass of books and smiled,

“It’s right over here...”

You walked past him and stopped in the middle section, tracing the books with your finger until you stopped over ‘Stormy Night’. You pulled it out and held it up in front of yourself. He smiled brightly and took it.

“Wow, Noona, you’re so good at this, I never would have found it without your help. Although...”

He said and looked at you expectantly,

“Need something else?”

You ask, expecting to be part of another fetch mission,

“Actually yes, there is something else I forgot to ask for, earlier”,

“I’m all ears”

He stepped a little closer and gazed down at you, making your cheeks heat again.

“Your number”

He said with the most serious expression and you burst into laughter,

“What? My number? What would you need that for?”,

“To ask you out obviously”

Now he was smiling again and you cleared your throat and tried to seem unbothered again,

“Well, uh. I did not expect that, to be honest”,

“Really? I thought getting you out here to help a clueless patron would be a clever rouse and you would be prepared for shenanigans”

He straightens his posture a little,

“I was prepared for shenanigans but not to be asked for my number and a date”

You say and he puts the book back onto the shelf,

“Well, you should always be prepared when you see me”,

“For a date or shenanigans?”,

“Why must one exclude the other?”,

“I see... well, I guess I’m down for both”,

you pull your phone out and his eyes grow big,

“Really?”

“Yeah, here’s my number”

You show him the screen and he quickly pats down his pockets for his own phone to copy your number. After he typed it in, he looks at you, squinting his eyes a little in question,

“You know, I’ve been calling you Noona this whole time and I don’t even know your name...”

You grin and prepare yourself for an awful joke,

“I guess you could say I’m... anoonamous”,

He chuckles and takes your hand,

“Well, it’s nice to meet you anoonamous, I’m Jin”

[prettyinpymtech]

A Trip to the Library

Poe Dameron x Reader (Modern AU)

Summary: Poe is an elementary school teacher with a not-so-secret crush on the school librarian.

A/N: This was inspired by an idea I had for quite some time and yes, I did listen to “A Trip to the Library” from She Loves Me while writing this fic.

Friday.

Poe Dameron, much like his own students, impatiently awaited the end of the school week. His haste was hardly the result of resentment or displeasure-Poe valued his profession a great deal, appreciating the camaraderie of his colleagues and students alike.

But the end of the school week always promised a welcome respite from work-and a chance to visit you.

Your duties as school librarian had only begun a few months ago, but in that short time you had developed a rather particular bond with Poe. Leia had been the first to introduce you, asking Poe to provide assistance during your initial arrival.

As the weeks turned to months, he found his fondness for you continue to grow. He would often invite you to lunch, delighted by discussions of literature. He loved to watch you excitedly talk about a particular chapter and always welcomed a chance to spend more time in your company.

Poe’s admiration for the school librarian had not gone unnoticed. His students exchanged knowing glances when he would stare at the clock every Friday, nervously redoing his tie. He had decided to distract his thoughts by grading a few papers before a student interrupted the silence.

“Are you going to tell her?”

Poe instantly looked up, failing to conceal his blush at the question. “I’m sorry?”

“Miss Y/N,” stated the young boy. “Are you going to tell her you love her?”

A few giggles erupted from the other students. Poe tried to offer an explanation, surprised by the young boy’s observation, but he couldn’t hide the smile that appeared on his face. Fortunately the bell sounded throughout the hallways, providing a perfect diversion.  

The children cheered, finally allowed to embrace a much-needed rest. They waved goodbye to their favorite teacher, racing towards the playground where their parents waited. Poe watched his students’ enthusiasm with a smile, chuckling at the young boy when he shouted, “You can do it!”

He waited until each of his students had gathered their belongings before making his way to the school library. The direction required only a few minutes, but he decided to leave early to visit with Leia before she left. Her office door remained open, providing a glimpse of the esteemed principal in the company of her husband.  

They were in the middle of a deeply cozy conversation when Leia spotted Poe, inviting him to step inside. He tried to hide his amusement as the pair separated as though their own parents had caught them kissing.

“Hey, you two. I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” he asked with an innocent smile.  

Han rolled his eyes, clearly not amused. Leia simply gave her husband’s arm a gentle squeeze to ease his annoyance. “Not at all, Poe.”

“Got any plans for the weekend?”

“Han is taking me out for dinner.”

“How about you? You have any plans for the weekend, Dameron?” Then, with a teasing smile, Han added, “A date with Y/N, maybe?”  

Poe’s wide eyes were almost comical and Han laughed at his attempts to offer an explanation.  “I don’t-I mean, how did you-”

“The kid is hopeless, Leia,” Han stated with a deadpan expression.

“He is,” she responded, “but I still think he’s got a pretty good chance.”  

She offered Poe a warm smile before moving towards the door, quickly followed by her husband as he placed his hand on Poe’s shoulder. “A word of advice, kid. Don’t wait too long. If you really love her, then tell her.”

Poe watched as Han wrapped his arm around Leia’s shoulder, placing a loving kiss on her head as they left.

Inspired by their words, Poe finally reached the school library. It had been your suggestion to extend the hours on Friday, providing a safe location for children to wait for their parents and providing a chance for them to find a book to read for the weekend. Poe had been the first to encourage your efforts, appreciating your concern for the well-being of the children.

His arrival was welcomed with the sight of students resting in the comfort of comfy chairs. A few looked up and waved in his direction before returning their attention to the pages in front of them. Poe relished the familiarity of the library, strolling past a variety of bookshelves and observing the selections they offered.

Poe’s amble ultimately came to a stop once he found you settled in a corner of the room, occupied with a display. Your entire presence affected him in a way he had never felt before, especially when you met his gaze with a warm smile that never failed to make him blush.

“You’re just in time!” Holding up two different streamers, you asked, “Which looks better? Blue or purple?”

Poe tried to form an answer. Tried to match the different colors with the colorful display of fairy tales, but all he could focus on was your features illuminated by the twinkling lights suspended overhead.

“Uh, blue.”

You gave a quick nod before taping the blue streamers into place and joined his side to observe your work. “What do you think?”  

“It’s perfect.”

The display was perfect, but Poe’s observation was far too captivated by your beauty. You blushed when you turned to find him staring at you and rewarded his comment with a number of streamers draped over his shoulders.

“You’re far too charming, Poe.”

He gave a gentle tug on a streamer wrapped around your arm, enchanted by your laugh as you stepped closer. The close proximity allowed Poe a moment to indulge in his affection. Perhaps now was the perfect time to confess his feelings. Perhaps now was the time to-

“Hi Mister Dameron! Hi Miss Y/N!”

Well, perhaps not.

The slight tug of his shirt compelled Poe to look down, where he found one of his students looking up at him with wide eyes. “You look funny!”

She pointed to the streamers draped along his shoulders and giggled as he placed a few on her head. Kneeling down to her level, he noticed the book in her arms.

“What you got there, Allison?” The young girl proudly presented her selection.  “Anne of Green Gables?”

“Uh-huh. Miss Y/N said it’s one of her favorites.” Suddenly aware of your presence, she stepped to the side and motioned for Poe to step closer. In a hushed whisper, she asked, “Are you going to tell her?”

There was no need to ask for clarification-apparently everyone knew who had captivated Poe’s attention.

He risked a glance in your direction, worried you had heard Allison’s question. But your back was turned to him while you arranged the books in your display, leaving him unable to gauge your reaction.

He nodded and Allison clapped excitedly. “Good! I know she feels the same way!”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because I heard Miss Y/N tell Miss Rose that you’re the handsomest man in the whole world!”

Her comment was met with a loud crash as you dropped the books in your hands and Poe suspected perhaps you had overheard their conversation.

He immediately rushed to your side, helping you pick up the books on the floor. An embarrassed chuckle escaped your lips as you took one of the books he returned in your grasp.

“I, uh, should get back to work,” you mumbled, ignoring his whisper of your name. “I still have to organize the shelves and-”

“Do you remember the time I snuck in here with Beebs?”

You furrowed your brows, puzzled by his question. “Of course. Leia was furious with you.”  

Poe smiled at the memory, recalling Leia’s opposition to pets brought inside the building. He had tried to comply with her demands, but how could he possibly deny the pleading stares of his students?

The visit had been short, only long enough for each student to fall in love with the adorability of his corgi. The rest of the day had required Poe to sneak through the hallways, careful to avoid Leia’s fury. She had almost caught him and Poe, in a moment of sheer panic, rushed into the nearest room he could find-which just so happened to be the library.

The sight of Poe with a dog in his arms hardly surprised you. Instead you offered a teasing smile in his direction, very much aware of Leia’s initial stance, and returned your attention to the small group of children in front of you. They were far too fascinated by your dramatic narration of a story to notice the new arrivals. Poe had spent the rest of the day in the library, mindful of the admiration he felt as he watched you interact with the children.

“That was when I knew I loved you.” He stepped closer, his own voice now a whisper. “I’ve been meaning to tell you for a long time. I’ve loved you everyday since that moment, Y/N.”

You remained silent after his confession and Poe worried that perhaps he had made you uncomfortable. But those concerns were quickly dismissed once you pressed your lips to his. Poe’s touch immediately reached for your face, deepening the kiss with all of the love he had gathered for so long.

The children cheered as they spotted your embrace, though their delight was soon followed by discussions of who would be the first to tell Han and Leia.  

[jaeminlore]

To Live and Let Go | Renjun

summary: if there’s something left to be learned, then my time is running. why would i waste it all, wasted on you?

words: 2.3k+

category: librarian!renjun x tutor!reader, fem!presenting!reader, adventure au, a bit meta, what’s going on idk ur guess is as good as mine, some sections are written better than others, reader is a tutor for prince jaemin, this sucks so bad i’m so sorry.

note: this was a commission for @yrb-reads who donated to a charity of their choice. thank you :) i’m terribly sorry it took so long and it's definitely not up to par the way it should be. if you want something else written to make up for it let me know. there was depression, full time job, and a death in the family i would like to blame, but i should’ve prioritized this story more for you, and for that i’m sorry. thank you so much for donating, and i hope this serves as a holiday gift for you. again, sorry about the short length

To Renjun, libraries feel like home. Especially the castle’s library, located just west of the kitchen; a hidden gem unknown to most people. Really, only known to Prince Jaemin and Renjun, if he really thought about it. Perhaps a few tutors and scholars as well.

But these factors don’t make it home. Instead, it is the wooden walls of thick cedar trunks, built long before the castle walls were put up; when the builders didn’t have the heart to tear such a piece of architecture down. It’s the way it smells like a forest at all times, and how the inside walls are chipped and falling onto the bare floor. It is the large shelves, made just decades ago, crammed up against each other and overflowing with the royal family’s books. Each piece of literature is practically an heirloom, save the small shelf in the corner where the prince hides his new romance novels he gets delivered straight from the village of Rubin.

The library feels like a bridge between the kingdom and the village. Inside these four walls, wooden and chipped, Rubin feels like one entity, undivided by classes or rank.

It also happens to be the one place Renjun is allowed to hang his paintings.

Ever since he was younger, it has been Renjun’s dream to be a portrait artist. To be able to place his thumbprint in Rubin’s history by painting the royal family or a few important nobles, is all he has ever wanted. But the King and Queen prefer a man of nobility to do the work, so Renjun was shot down. Since he sold everything he had to come and shoot for his dream, the royal family had offered him a pity job.

Correction: Prince Jaemin had begged his parents not to turn Renjun away empty-handed and convinced them to let him earn his pay here in the castle.

Prince Jaemin does a lot for Renjun. He had introduced him to his friend and closest servant, Donghyuck, who has a sharp tongue but no real malice to back up anything he ever said. Renjun had moved in with him, and used his side of the house as his painting room. Donghyuck barely even complains about the scent of oil paint anymore.

Prince Jaemin also got him his current job as a bookbinder. Which, in itself, is a very lonely and tedious job. Perfect for a boy like Renjun who only wants to work with no outside distractions. Aside from his friends in the castle, that is. Or the prince’s tutor, who comes in for study material.

Most importantly, Prince Jaemin lets Renjun hang up his portraits in the library. He had said that they deserved to be hung up, even if it couldn’t be hung up in the royal hall. Renjun had nearly burst into tears in front of the hyperactive prince.

They had met during a touchy time in the prince’s life. He had just returned to the castle after a trip to the village. There, he was hiding from potential assassins, but for some reason, the prince seemed more upset about coming back.

It was in the quiet of that library that Jaemin let Renjun, a complete stranger at the time, in on the secret that he was in love with a girl from the village. For the young artist, it wasn’t hard to imagine. Prince Jaemin was known for his free spirit and hyperactive personality. There was no way he could become attached to a noble raised under discipline.

Of course the prince was raised under the highest of discipline, but he somehow found a way to rebel against it all and stay true to himself, even if it meant hiding the portraits he liked the best in a forgotten library, or befriending the healer and servant of the castle instead of the lords.

He was wonderful, and Renjun couldn’t wait for him to be king.

The library was home because Prince Jaemin made it home. He had crafted a place between the castle and the village — a place of seclusion — just for Renjun and his thoughts.

-

“I just want them to listen to me,” Jaemin moans, dropping his chin onto his open romance book. “I’ve been asking them for almost a year and a half to let me go back to the village, but they refuse to listen to me.”

Renjun hums non-committedly. “Chin up, please. I’m not finished.”

Jaemin glares at Renjun through his eyelashes but obliges, a pout still evident on his face. He returns to his casual pose of leaning his cheek against his fist and turning the pages of his book. “Anyway, I really want to go back to the village.”

“I know,” Renjun sighs and dips the tip of his paintbrush into the copper-colored paint he had mixed. “Right now, you have to obey them. You may be the prince but obviously they’re the king and queen.”

“I’m about to be nineteen,” Jaemin mumbles angrily.

“And when your coronation arrives, you’ll have more freedom to do things like visit the village.”

“Her grandmother died, you know,” Jaemin says, morose. “I could’ve been there for the funeral, at least.”

Renjun grabs a slimmer paintbrush and begins to note the details of Jaemin’s face. “I know, Your Highness. But if she’s anything like you’ve told me, then I’m sure she understands.”

Jaemin bites his lip and looks at the book sadly. “I just miss her.”

“It’s your duty to stay here. I’m sure she realizes that.”

Jaemin rolls his eyes, albeit sadly, and goes back to posing.

“Your Highness! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Renjun’s brush shakes slightly as his mind registers the new voice. It is Jaemin’s tutor. You, a servant the same age as the prince, seem to be the only one he will actually listen to. Perhaps because you entertain his many ideas. Perhaps because Renjun had begged him to keep you around.

Because you not only entertained Jaemin’s ideas, you also praised Renjun’s art. You are a no-nonsense tutor, but as a friend, you have had neverending praise and encouragement to the two boys.

Renjun longs to be around you as much as Jaemin is. In fact, you are the only real reason Renjun finds himself being jealous of the prince. He often wonders how Jaemin could even think about a villager he only knew for a week, when you are right there beside him, every day.

Just the blossom of your smile could make Renjun’s mind freeze in all it’s concerns. Suddenly, the portrait in front of him means little to nothing, and all he could really think about was how many different shades of pink and brown he’d have to mix before he matched the color of your lips. “Hello, Y/n.”

“Good day,” you greet, bowing slightly. “What are you painting today?”

Renjun almost forgets to breathe when you walk toward him and lean your head over his shoulder to inspect his art. He can smell the amber musk on your collarbones and feel your soft hair tickle his cheek. “J-Jaemin.”

“You always paint him,” you murmur, almost in boredom. “Say, do you do favors?”

“Come again?”

“Like, if I paid you, would you draw a portrait of me? I think my mother would really like it— she’s always asking me to get a portrait done.”

Renjun feels his tongue rest heavy in his mouth. Before he can speak, Jaemin grabs your arm. “He can do it! Now let’s get to my lessons!”

And that was that on that.

-

The stream trickles loudly, leaping down and over the rock formations and falling into the pool with grace. This is where Renjun comes to find inspiration. It’s also where he comes to practice his art.

It’d be nice to do it into the library, but Renjun knows that he would abandon all his actual duties — the ones that he gets paid to do.

He eyes his oil paints, color coordinated from lightest to darkest shade. He dips his brush in pure white, to lay a foundation coat atop his canvas.

Truth be told, he could paint you from memory. But if he told you that, he’d have to admit to his crush on you, and that’s far too embarrassing. No, thank you.

Renjun takes off his sandals and plants his feet on the soft grass. The blades tickle his toes, so he tries to relax his muscles. He has the canvas stretched out on his knees, which is a bit unconventional, but it works. He looks up at the afternoon sun; his straw hat scrapes the trunk of the tree he’s leaning against.

“Sorry I’m late. Jaemin needed help with Latin...” You wander in and trail off, looking at the pool in wonder. “This is beautiful.”

You’re dressed in silver shades — Renjun wonders if you intentionally made yourself look extra beautiful, or if that’s you, in the reflection of the water. He clears his mind and his throat. “I figured It’d be a nice background for a portrait.”

“How do you want me posed?” Your lips are upturned, soft, and Renjun starts a mental list on how to keep you smiling.

“Whatever you’re comfortable with,” Renjun hurries. “We’ll be here for an hour or so each session until it’s finished.”

You sit in the grass, atop your knees, and smooth out any wrinkles in your garments. “My Mother is going to be so thrilled, Renjun. Thank you so much for doing this.”

His tongue feels heavy at the compliment, so he settles for a simple nod. The foundation coat is still drying, so Renjun pulls his sketchbook and a pencil out of his bag. “Do you mind if I start with a few sketches?”

“Of course not,” you say. Your eyes clip to his, bright and clear, and Renjun thinks this is going to be a lot harder than he initially thought.

(The next session, Renjun is so focused on getting the outline of your back right that he doesn’t even notice you moving towards him.

“You’ve got paint on your brow,” you say.

Renjun reflexively wipes at his face, feeling himself blush at your observation. “Is it gone?”

You grin — looking straight at him — and reach up. Gently, you use the pad of your thumb to scrub off the paint. “Now it is.”

Renjun thinks he’d rather melt into the floor than finish the rest of this session.)

-

Renjun threads the spine of his latest project: scribe records from the recent knighting tournament and ceremony. Even as he pulls the last thread tight, his finger raw and screaming, he’s thankful that he wasn’t the one editing these records.

Jaemin hasn’t been to the library in awhile. His current betrothement has him in a frenzied mindset, and Renjun is sure he has more important things to do than hang out with his friends.

Still, he misses the company.

He sets the glue along the spine and aligns the pages with the leather backing. He’s so busy focusing on making sure the lines are straight that he doesn’t notice someone walk into the library. “Hello, Renjun.”

Renjun jumps, and the spine of the book misaligns. He leaves it on his table, and when he turns around, you’re there smiling at him. “Hey, Y/n. I didn’t know you tutored Jaemin today.”

”I don’t,” you admit. A bashful look overtakes your face and you focus on one of the books in Renjun’s return pile. “I wanted to thank you for the portrait. My mother loved it.”

“I’m glad!” Renjun says, brightening up. He notices that you still look rather distant. “Is something wrong?”

”it’s just...” you bite your lip. “Do, um, do I really look like that?”

Renjun wants to ask what you mean. But he sort of knows. “Your portrait? Is it not to your likeness?”

You furrow your brows. “I just... You made me look very beautiful.”

“You are very beautiful,” Renjun replies, voice low and steady. “Surely, you know that.”

Embarrassment paints your face and you shrug. “I dunno...”

“I know,” Renjun says, surety building in his voice. “Whether you believe it or not, it’s a fact that you are very beautiful. I hope my painting portrayed even an inch of your beauty.”

You look aghast at his words, mouth open in shock. “Are you… Are you serious?”

Renjun stares at the way your lips look, pursed in confusion. “Why on earth would I lie to you?”

“I don’t mean to insult your integrity,” you say, eyes wide. “It’s just that no one has ever been so upfront with me.”

This is it, Renjun thinks. This is my chance to confess. He takes a deep breath, steps closer to you. Toe to toe, so that your chest is brushing against his. And the outside air lessens it’s chill, so that Renjun is sure he’s sweating, nervous and hot and wanting.

His luck hasn’t run out yet. “Can I be upfront again?”

Your breath hitches, leaving Renjun’s own words isolated, suspended in the air between you. “Yes,” you finally say, honeyed lips nearly brushing his own.

“I’m in love with you,” Renjun allows himself to say. “And I want to kiss you. Selfishly.”

“Then do so.”

Your lips are honeyed; candied peonies against his own cruel briars and thorns. Renjun wonders if he’s good enough for you. If book binding and tutoring go hand in hand. If he’ll be stuck forever in the royal library, giving you books to read to the prince. He wonders if this is the life of a peasant, always one step behind the nobles.

Two people in service to a prince can never truly serve each other.

But Renjun doesn’t hold on to that thought. Instead, he surges forward, holds your body like it’s falling, kissing your mouth and your chin and your neck and your skin and—

“Hey,” you cup his face in his hands. “This isn’t the last time you’ll have me. There’s no need to be urgent.”

So he slows down. Gentle touches and warm gazes. Tastes you as much as touches you. All lips and no teeth. Memorized the palm of your hand against his jaw.

You’ll still be here, you said so.

Renjun decides to let go.

[brywrites]

Flight Risk VI

Summary: An answer to the age old CM question, “who’s flying the plane?” And the story of a pilot and a profiler. Part VI: In which things are lost and found and borrowed.

(Series Masterlist) ( Previous  |  Next )

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The case is of a vengeful Cinderella is closed, but as they prepare to head to the airport, Kate isn’t feeling so well. Rossi offers to drive with her to a pharmacy to pick up some saltines and Dramamine, and the rest of the team heads to the airport to wait. Reid spots Y/N chatting outside the plane with Dobson, and he instinctively starts towards her. She must see him out of the corner of her eye because she turns to greet him, but before either of them can say anything a strong hand finds his shoulder, holding him back.

“Hold there, Pretty Boy. I wanna hear the details of your Prince Charming moment back there,” Morgan says.

Y/N raises her eyebrows and he can feel his face flush. “There’s um, not much to say,” he stammers.

“Spence, come on, you were totally prince-like,” JJ laughs. “Kneeling down on one knee with a glass slipper and everything?”

“A glass slipper?” Y/N asks. JJ describes, in detail, how he played the part of the knight in shining armor at the cemetery to get Claire Dunbar to leave with them. He’s embarrassed through the whole tale, but by the time JJ gets down on one knee to kiss Morgan’s hand as he did the unsub’s, he’s sure his face is scarlet. Y/N is laughing along the entire time at his fellow agents’ melodramatic reenactment.

“Anyways, it was all very romantic. He totally swept her of her feet. The poor girl fell for him in a heartbeat,” JJ says. For a moment, Reid tries to discern what Y/N is thinking. Her face is unreadable other than a bemused smile. Her body language tells him nothing. But he can’t help but wonder – hearing about his heroics in the field, would she be jealous? Hearing how he played Prince Charming for Claire and kissed her hand. Then he wonders if he wants her to be. Is he curious because there’s a part of him that wants her to want him? Is he secretly hoping that she’d feel slighted by any hint of romance towards someone else? And if he is hoping for that, what does that mean?

But Y/N just says, “I sure would have liked to see that.”

“Next time we’ll get it on camera,” Morgan teases, ruffling Reid’s hair. He swats his friend’s hand away.

“You know, I love a good fairytale,” Y/N says, turning to him.

“Well this one was more Grimm than Disney,” he admits, trying to push the memories of the men Claire killed out of his mind. The story is over now. No more dragons to slay. Kate and Rossi return seconds later and it’s time to go.

Y/N follows Captain Dobson up the steps of the jet, and he follows close behind her. Lost in his thoughts, he nearly loses his balance at the top of the stairs. Y/N immediately reaches a hand out to steady him. Her hand is soft around his. He holds tight, both to maintain his balance and to keep a connection to her. All his life he’s been uncoordinated, but he’s willing to fall over his own feet a million times if it means having the chance to finally hold her hand. With her help, he ascends to the top step, finally making it onto the jet. It strikes him, this sudden reversal of roles. Only a few hours ago he was offering his hand to a distressed damsel to lead her away, using his words to woo her. But now Y/N is the one coming to his rescue. She is steady. Confident. She doesn’t need anyone to save her. If she did, he’d be there in a heartbeat. But she’s saving him. Little by little. Maybe they’re saving each other. One thing is for sure – she sweeps him of his feet without even trying. Knocks him out with a single smile. Quite literally puts his head in the clouds. And that’s better than any fairytale.

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She’s turning the pages of Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, so taken by the story that she jumps when he calls her name. She turns to see him standing there, offering an awkward half-wave. Y/N can’t help but smile at the sight of him. His cardigans and ties are becoming familiar. He always looks more like a librarian or a professor than a special agent. Not that she minds one bit. The clothes suit him well, though at this point she’s convinced he’d look good in just about anything.”

“Is it good?” he asks, nodding at the book.

“Extremely. The prose is incredible and the narration is really unique. It manages to make a story so painful sound so beautiful. You can borrow it when I’m done if you’d like. I’m sure you’d finish it in a single flight.”

“It’s quite likely,” he laughs.

“So I hear we’re off to New Mexico,” she says. The flight is long enough that she could easily lend him the book now, but she knows the trip there will be spent reviewing case files and preparing for the work to come.

“Yeah, there’s five women dead already.” Spencer sits beside her on the bench. “The unsub seems quite advanced. It’s not looking pretty.”

“We’ve got to find you at least one pretty thing to see on these cases,” she says. It doesn’t seem right for him to travel across the country and return with nothing but memories of police stations and a handful of nightmares. She still hates the idea of ferrying him and his team to and from monsters. To and from danger.

He raises his eyebrows. “Oh? Like that coffee shop you found for us last weekend?”

She laughs at his pointed accusation. When they made plans she had insisted on visiting a new pop-up that Yeeqin had shown her on Instagram. The drinks were dreamlike pieces of art with cotton candy fluff, impeccable latte art, ombre iced teas, and donuts carefully placed over the rims of mugs. The line to order had been long, and the shop was crowded with people taking photos in front of the murals and installations throughout the shop. When they finally got their drinks, they were both disappointed to find they were more watery than the sad coffee found in police stations and tiny airports. The coffee didn’t taste nearly as good as it looked, especially for the pretty penny it had cost.

“Okay, okay,” she giggles. “You have a point. I will refrain from taking food recommendations from social media influencers in the future. But I’m sure I can find a nice bookstore or a garden or something worth paying a quick visit to in Santa Fe.” She pulls out her phone for a quick search. “Oh, like this bookstore! It’s called Collected Works and it’s lovely.” Suddenly she can smell coffee and the sharp spice of aftershave. Spencer is leaning over to look at her screen. She turns her head towards him and he shifts his gaze from the phone to her and she realizes how incredibly close he is. There’s only inches between them and when his hazel eyes find hers any words she had die on her lips. Lovely, is all she can think.

After mere seconds that seem to slip into eternity, she quickly breaks eye contact and looks down at her hands, her heart thudding loudly in her ears. “Um, but, uh, maybe there’s somewhere else…” she says.

“Oh my god, Reid, you are not going to believe what I saw this morning!” A cheerful voice calls out from across the hanger and Spencer practically leaps up from the bench. The voice is familiar somehow. A brightly-dressed woman is heading towards them surprisingly fast considering the height of her stilettos. Her shockingly orange dress matches the bright hue of her lipstick and the flowers in her hair. When she reaches them, her eyes widen, and a neon grin spreads across her face as she regards Y/N. “Oh! You have to be Y/N! You look just like Morgan described!”

Y/N’s eyes flicker to Spencer who gestures towards the newcomer. “Y/N, this is Penelope Garcia. Our technical analyst.”

Garcia holds out a well-manicured hand. “Technical analyst, internet goddess, and oracle of all knowledge. But tomato, tomahto.” Y/N stands to shake her hand. “JJ was right, you’re totally cute.”

Out of the corner of her eye she sees Spencer turn tomato red. She chooses not to question it and instead asks, “Why haven’t I met you before?”

“Well, usually when these crimefighters are flying all over to world to do their crimefighting thing, I stay hunkered down in my Quantico batcave ready to scour the interwebs for their every demand. But our creep of the week is particularly creepy – he’s hacking into his victims computers to stalk them and erasing almost any trace he was there. So I’m coming along for the ride to try and pull any data I can from their devices.” She grimaces. “Believe me I would much rather be staying put and calling them from my office.”

That explains why her voice is so familiar, she’s heard it in the background a million times as the team prepares for a case in the cabin.

“Well Captain Dobson and I will do our best to make the trip a little more comfortable. We restocked the galley and deep cleaned this weekend, so Geff should be in perfect form.”

“Oh my gosh I still love that our jet has a name. Geff is so cute. I’m never calling it the jet again.”

Y/N smiles. “Right? I feel like planes have a personality all their own. They deserve a name, too!”

“I feel the same way! I name all the things in my life, but none quite compares to Esther. She’s an orange 1975 Cadillac Eldorado and the one true love of my life.”

“An Eldorado? She must be gorgeous.”

“She absolutely is, and she drives like a dream. You should totally come take her for a spin sometime! If you can handle Geff you can totally handle Esther.”

“Hey!” Spencer protests. “You wouldn’t let me drive your car!”

Garcia rolls her eyes in mock annoyance. “See, calling her a car is exactly why I don’t let you drive her! Besides, you drove us to Comic-Con and your maneuverability did not exactly inspire confidence.”

“Well if you ever need a co-pilot for a convention, let me know,” Y/N offers.

“You’re into the con crowd?” Garcia asks.

“Please, I’m a total geek,” she laughs. “If it’s got a flying craft of any kind I’m in. Firefly, LOST, Doctor Who, Star Wars – you name it.”

“I totally love you,” Garcia declares, linking her arm through Y/N’s. “I love her!” she tells Spencer.

“Well I hope you have a little love left for me, Baby Girl,” Morgan teases, walking up behind them.

“Always, sugar,” Garcia throws back. She let’s go of Y/N’s arm but says, “We have to talk later.”

“Of course,” Y/N assures her, and she hurries over to catch up with Morgan.

“I didn’t realize you liked all those things,” Spencer says.

“Of course,” she laughs. “I guess it just never came up in conversation. We were too busy with books and stories. But I’m guessing you’re also a fan?”

He nods. “Although I’ve never seen LOST. Is it good?”

“Is it good?” she asks, incredulous. “It’s incredible. It revolutionized television. And it’s right up your alley. Mystery, psychology, recurrent numbers . When this case is over we are absolutely watching it together.” She only realizes after she says it that she’s practically inviting him over to her place. Or inviting herself over to his. Is that too much? They’ve been spending more and more time together, and she has yet to stop enjoying his company. If she’s being honest, she’s always looking for excuses to see him again.

“I would love to,” he says immediately. Relief washes over her. So it is okay. It’s okay that she wants more of these moments with him, that she’s trying to commit of these little conversations to memory for fear they’ll slip away and she’ll forget the butterflies she feels when he looks at her. And when Arthur calls her away to ready Geff for takeoff, the smell of coffee and aftershave lingers in her in mind long after she walks away from him.

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

Three days later, the case is solved. The unsub is in custody. The victim is in the hospital with their family, where she will hopefully make a full recovery with time and with therapy. The Santa Fe sun is sweltering though. The team sits inside a small room at the little airport. The air conditioner is on full blast and everyone is sipping on water to stay cool. All of them are exhausted, and Reid wants nothing more than to take a long nap on the plane. Even Garcia is quiet. It’s a relief when Captain Dobson appears to inform them that the jet is ready for takeoff. They board Geff and settle down into chairs and couches, ready for well-deserved rest.

As soon as he does so, Reid realizes he’s left his book in the air-conditioned room. He quickly hurries back down the stairs and inside, grabbing the paperback that sits on the table where he left it. As he walks back out, he spots Y/N, standing at a locker in the hangar. She waves at him a with a smile.

“How was the case?” she asks.

“It ended as well as it could have,” he says. “But it was long. I think we’re all pretty tired.”

“I’m sure this heat isn’t helping. It’s worn me out. I’ve been putting off getting in uniform as long as I could.” She wears black pants and a short-sleeved white button-down, but the rest of her uniform is still in the locker. “So the missing woman is okay?”

Reid explains that she is, but he’s hardly aware of the words he’s saying. His focus is on her fingers as she buttons the top of her collar and ties her black tie with a careful and practiced knot. It’s looks far nicer than any of his slapdash crooked knots. She slips her blazer over her shoulders and adjusts the cuffs. He’s seen her in these clothes so many times before but he’s never realized before how good she looks in uniform. Or at least, he’s never let himself think it. It fits her well, tailored perfectly to her body. Reid is absolutely entranced as she buttons the front of her blazer, the little gold pair of wings shining above her pocket. He can’t explain why he suddenly finds this incredibly attractive, but when she puts her cap on and turns to smile at him, he completely loses track of any thoughts in his head.

It’s only when she closes the locker and says, “Let’s get out of here,” that he regains his ability to form coherent sentences.

“Wait,” he says. She does. Her cap is ever so slightly off-kilter. He reaches out to straighten it for her. As he does so, it catches a strand of her hair, and he brushes it out of the way. The gesture feels so intimate, and she stares at him the entire time. “There,” he says. “Perfect.”

“Thanks, Doctor.” The smile she gives him is different from the one she wore seconds ago. It’s softer somehow, and if he were to melt right now it wouldn’t be the result of the Santa Fe sun. They climb back into the plane. Y/N disappears into the cockpit. He puts his book back into his bag and then walks to the jet galley to grab another cup of water. Garcia joins him. As she pours herself a cup of coffee she says, “I had no idea you liked a girl in uniform.”

Reid nearly chokes on his water. “I – wait – what?”

“Oh come on, I saw you staring at Y/N.  The way you were looking at her? Ooh you are in deep, loverboy.”

“It’s – it’s not like that,” he sputters. “Not at all. We’re just – she – she’s my friend. That’s it.” Garcia quirks an unconvinced eyebrow. Reid sighs. “Look, even if I liked her, it would never work out. She’s…” There aren’t enough words to follow that adequately describe her. “Her. And I’m me. And besides, I’m pretty sure there are rules. Even if I felt that way…” He couldn’t. He can’t.

Garcia’s mischievous grin fades. “Reid, do you really think that-”

“Please, Garcia.”

She bites her lip and grabs her coffee. “Hey,” she says quietly. “No one else was paying attention. They didn’t see. And I’m not going to say anything.” She takes a step past him. “I just wish–” But she doesn’t finish the sentence. Evidently deciding against voicing her wish, Garcia returns to her seat. Reid prepares to do the same, only to notice the book sitting beside the coffee maker. Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. With a little note that says, you can give it back when I see you for LOST.

In spite of himself, in spite of all the things he can’t and shouldn’t do, he smiles. He can have this. Sharing words and stories with her, and wondering which ones resonated with her when she read them. He picks up the book and sits back down just as Dobson’s voice comes through the speaker  to ask them to ask them to fasten their seatbelts and secure all loose items. Reid opens the book. That nap can wait until he gets home.

[the-hilda-librarians-wife]

Much Ado About Nothing

Summary: On Valentine’s Day, Johanna’s visit to the library takes longer than expected due to ... unforseeable circumstances.

Snowed in Valentine’s Day sketchbook AU

Notes: Okay this fic was written and revised at the quickest speed I could manage so it’s probably not the best, but in my defence I wasn’t even going to write it before I saw @kaminos-hangout-corner ‘s post about v day being cold like, three days ago, so it’s the best I could do :3. Happy Valentines, hope you enjoy it! (also please keep in mind I live in a place where snow is not a thing, so sorry if this is too inaccurate)

Read it on ao3  I  Read last year’s Valentine’s sketchbook fic

The library’s closing time had long since passed by, yet the lights inside it were still lit, something that was becoming recurrently common these days. With it being a Sunday, the library’s doors were supposed to have been locked at five in the afternoon, but the librarian had found herself… otherwise engaged.

Johanna had walked in earlier that day, bringing a basket of cookies to give her and of course, bringing her lovely self. Even if she wanted to do so, Kaisa wouldn’t have had the heart to tell her to go away when the time had come for her to close the library, and she very much hadn’t wanted to.

Sometimes the kind woman came to doodle; on the occasion when Kaisa had mustered up enough bravery to ask her about it, back when the two of them barely spoke at all, Johanna had said she liked the peace and quiet of the library, as well as finding it an inspiring place. The librarian had had to agree, there was something about the place that inspired not only knowledge, but also imagination, but she didn’t dare say that it was probably the vestiges of magic in the air.

Other days, which Kaisa had to admit were her favourite, Johanna came simply to check out a book and she always made time to exchange a few words with the librarian; the baked goods were new, but Kaisa was definitely not about to complain.

Of course, she supposed she shouldn’t really be talking during her working hours, nor giving all her attention to one single library patron, but it wasn’t like anyone else but Johanna seemed to even want the librarian’s attention, and besides that they always kept their voices down so as not to disturb anyone. Seeing as the situation seemed completely unproblematic, Kaisa didn’t stress about it, and even felt flattered that Johanna had chosen to spend some more time with her on that date, since she certainly had better things to do. The problem came when, hours after the library had been closed, when they had already spent hours chatting alone in her break room and eating the cookies, Johanna looked at the clock and  suddenly excused herself, saying that she needed leave.

“Do you want any help?” Kaisa asked after a couple of seconds of watching the woman struggle to push the library doors. It seemed like a very unusual occurrence, in Kaisa’s eyes. Big as they were, those doors had never given her much trouble, and she knew for a fact that Johanna was a strong woman. She still remembered the time she’d let a pile of books fall from her cart and Johanna had picked all of them up for her at once, which considering how lengthy and heavy the books had been, was no small feat.

“I think I do, actually.” Johanna adjusted her grip on the handle in a way that allowed Kaisa to grasp it too. For a moment, the librarian’s fingers brushed against Johanna’s hand, allowing her to feel how soft they were. Were she not in Kaisa’s presence, she would have huffed at herself for noticing such a small thing in the situation she was in; she really had it bad.

They attempted to open the door again, together that time, being unsuccessful once more. Kaisa’s brow creased. Granted, she hadn’t expected her limited strength to be of much help, but this shouldn’t be this hard either.

“Together on a three count?” Johanna suggested and Kaisa nodded. They both took a wider stance, and when Johanna reached the ‘three’, they dumped all their body weight into the door, but to no avail. They would have had more luck moving a boulder.

The two of them were heaving with the effort when they stopped, Kaisa going as far as leaning forward and placing her hands on her knees to rest.

“What on earth…” Kaisa breathed, before connecting the dots and immediately coming back to an upright position as if she had been startled. “Oh no.”

Johanna gasped when the librarian began running away to the closest window. She’d known it had been snowing, but she really hadn’t given this matter much thought. Spending her days inside the library, it wasn’t often that the weather became a hindrance to her, so it hadn’t even registered in her mind that it might become on that specific day.

“Tell me something.” Close as she was to the window, the tip of her nose nearly touching it, Kaisa’s words and breathing caused condensation to spread on the glass. “Was it already snowing when you got here?”

Approaching the window as well, Johanna grimaced at the amount of white flakes falling quickly to the ground outside. “It was, yes.”

“Damn it.” She whispered softly, trying to keep her cool while inside she was already cringing at having to deliver these news. “I’m sorry, Johanna, but it looks like you’re snowed in with me.”

_#_#_#_

If Kaisa had stopped to think properly, she would have noticed that she was stressing about the situation a lot more than Johanna herself was. This gave the artist conflicting feelings at best. She didn’t know what to think about how desperate Kaisa seemed to be to get rid of her.

For her part, the librarian couldn’t get out of her mind that she had ruined Johanna’s Valentine’s Day. Surely, for her to have asked to leave so suddenly earlier, it was because she had a date (or at least something that was worth her time more than keeping the lonely librarian company), and Kaisa told herself that if she hadn’t been so selfish and had stuck to the rules, asking her to leave the library at the time everyone else was supposed to, this wouldn’t have happened. Now Johanna was stuck with her as company.

Johanna had asked if there wasn’t any other way out that she could use, even though seeing Kaisa’s distress was already enough of an answer. Kaisa had had to bite her tongue and say that no, there weren’t any other ways in or out, even though she could list other five just from the top of her head; the Witches Tower wasn’t exactly open for visitors, and Kaisa would prefer it if Johanna did not end up in the void of no return.

Together, they had tried forcing the door open a few more times, even though they both knew it would be no use. For the first time since she’d known her, Kaisa wished Johanna would stay away from her, if only for one second. If she got distracted for long enough, maybe she could figure out a spell to melt the snow outside. Or to blow the door away and blame it on a new variation of mutant book worms, whichever seemed more believable. No such luck, however, since Kaisa had worked herself into a fine state of panic, and worried for her, Johanna made sure to stay close.

Kaisa’s next grand idea was to call the Safety Patrol. They were the ones responsible for operating Trolberg’s snowplows, so hopefully they would be able to help them out quickly. There was a phone behind the circulation desk, and a sticky note with useful numbers glued on it. The librarian took a moment to thank her past self for jotting down the patrol’s contact number, even though she couldn’t imagine herself in any other situation in which she’d ask for their help. Still, it was good to know that at least at some point in her life she’d been competent.

Her fingertips tapped against the wood anxiously as the phone ringed three, four, five times before someone picked up.

“Safety Patrol, what is your emergency?” The voice on the other side was heavily accented, and Kaisa sent a silent prayer to whatever deity was listening in gratefulness that it wasn’t the leader of the patrol that had picked up. She wouldn’t trust that man to open a jar.

“Good evening, I need to have the snow removed from the library doors immediately.”

“The library? Sorry ma’am, it says here that the library is closed. There’s no one there anymore, so there are places that will be needing the snowplow with more urgency.”

Kaisa rolled her eyes, which caused her to look up at Johanna. The woman was looking somewhat uncomfortable, and Kaisa took it that it was because, as she had mentioned before the librarian picked up the phone to make that call, she didn’t want to bother the Safety Patrol. Though she had insisted that there was no need for such haste, Kaisa knew she was only trying to be kind, or maybe to make Kaisa herself feel like she wasn’t such bad company. But she wasn’t who Johanna wanted to be with at that moment, so she would do whatever it took for the woman to get what she really wished for.

“I am at the library.” She answered, irritation making her tone harsh like the cold outside.

“You are?” The woman on the other side didn’t sound suspicious, only surprised. “Why? Who are you?”

“I’m the librarian.”

There was a beat of silence as the officer understood the situation. “Oh. I see. Well, I’m afraid that doesn’t change many things, ma’am. This amount of snow caught us all by surprise, many places weren’t ready for it. So, you see, there are people snowed in without supplies, and people snowed in on risk areas. Of course, there are also the main roads which need to be cleaned up. You have a private office with water and some food, don’t you? We will solve your problem when we can, but it might take a while.”

“Listen to me.” Kaisa summoned up her most threatening tone, wishing she’d never allowed Erik’s administration to make that silly inspection in the library, or at least that she could threaten to turn whoever she was talking to into a toad. She highly doubted Johanna would appreciate it, though. “I need you to let me out right now. I don’t care if all you bring is a machete so you can break one of the windows, just-”

So absorbed she’d been in trying to sound convincingly intimidating, something Kaisa was most certainly not used to, she was startled when Johanna grabbed the phone right out of her hand.

“Good evening officer, sorry for the bother.” She was leaning on the circulation desk, propped up on her elbows and sounding remarkably calm. “We will wait, don’t worry about us. Good luck with all the snow tonight. Goodbye.”

The officer said something else, but after that Johanna put the phone back in its hook. When she met the librarian’s gaze, Kaisa felt as if a blow had been delivered to her chest. Johanna looked sad with her, and she couldn’t fathom why. If she was only trying to help…. than the problem must be that Kaisa had allowed this to happen in the first place. Kaisa looked down, not wanting to look at Johanna’s face and see the disappointment in her any longer. She didn’t mean to be the wrong person for her to spend Valentine’s day with, she thought as a blush covered her cheeks, making matters worse, but she could hardly apologize for that, could she?

“Kaisa.” Johanna sighed. “There’s no need for all of this, really. Just… just let me make a call, will you?”

“Of course.” The librarian got up from the chair and walked around the desk, switching places with Johanna. Meaning to give her privacy, she walked a little further away, but couldn’t help but hear the first words she said.

“Hi, sweetie.” Johanna said softly.”I’m afraid I won’t be able to make it for dinner tonight-”

A sudden wave of cold washed over her, and Kaisa wrapped her cape tighter around herself. This conversation really wasn’t something she wanted to hear.

Figuring a hot drink would serve her well, she went back to her office and put some water to boil in the kettle. Some black tea would serve her well, but Johanna looked like the sort of person who drank red berries tea. She didn’t even dare to pick the flavour for her, however, since she had no intention of adding one more screw up to the night.

Johanna joined her right as the water finished boiling. “I already told her I won’t make it tonight.” She said as Kaisa gestured for her to choose a tea bag, allowing the librarian to pour the water on her teacup. “So no worries. I hope.”

“Ah.” Kaisa ran her thumb on the porcelain of her cup. She wanted to take a sip so she would have an excuse not to say anything, but that would certainly cause her to burn her tongue. The atmosphere between them was one she didn’t like, even if she reluctantly had to admit that she’d been the one to create it; it was heavy with discomfort and with words left unsaid, but at least for that last part there was something she could do.

“Johanna, I am sorry.” She said finally, making the other woman look at her with an eyebrow lifted in confusion. “It’s my fault that you’re stuck here right now.”

Looking exasperated, Johanna shook her head. “Kaisa, truly, you don’t have to worry about it. It doesn’t really matter that much, she’ll be fine-”

“It does matter!” Kaisa didn’t know why she was arguing against herself, but she felt like she needed Johanna to be angry at her, because otherwise she’d be the one who would continue being angry with herself. “I should have paid more attention to the time and to the weather. But it was so nice to talk to you privately for a longer while that I… forgot. And now your date is ruined because of that!”

She was gripping the mug so tightly that if it were slightly more frail she’d worry that it might break. Biting the inside of her cheek in an attempt to hold back the tears that were threatening to choke her, Kaisa looked out at the small window in her break room. The snow continued to fall stubbornly, caring not for any of them. Apologizing always sucked; whenever she had too much she wanted to say, it tended to come out all at once in ridiculous manifestations of emotion, leaving her feeling like a fool. At least it was done, and now all she did was wait for Johanna to say something.

“My date?’ Johanna half mumbled, half laughed after a second. “I don’t have a date.”

Kaisa whipped her gaze back to her. “Of course you do.” She said without even thinking about her words, an unusual thing for her to do. “You just called her, did you not? It’s Valentine’s day, who wouldn’t want to be with you?”

To her utter surprise, Johanna laughed, a bubbling sound that began in her chest until it spilled out of her, filling the room with its warmth. Kaisa didn’t even care that the laughter was at her expense; Johanna wasn’t sad anymore and that was what mattered most.

“Kaisa, that wasn’t my date. I was calling my daughter.”

The librarian blinked in surprise, hoping her hair hid the pink spreading on her face. “But… when you noticed the time, you said you needed to leave immediately.”

Johanna’s mug could barely hide her satisfied grin behind itself as she took her first taste of the reddish beverage. Now that she knew exactly what Kaisa’s panic had been about, and that it had nothing to do with wanting Johanna to go away, she was admittedly enjoying the situation way more that she thought she should.

“Yes, because my daughter has an inclination to chaos and would take my being late as an excuse to meddle around the kitchen and possibly set the house on fire.” Watching realization dawn in Kaisa’s face was like watching the sun rise, so deep the transformation was. “I just told her to order in to avoid accidents.”

Holding her steaming cup with her left hand, the librarian used her right one to cover her face. She really hoped there were no witches going through any of the secret passages at the moment that had heard that exchange. They would never let her live this down.

“Oh my goodness.” Her words were muffled by the heel of her hand, and in a show of compassion, Johanna held her giggles back. “I’m so sorry for the way I acted, that was honestly pitiful. I just wanted to make sure you could spend your Valentine’s day - well, Valentine’s evening, I suppose, with the person you wanted.”

Internally repremending herself, Kaisa didn’t dare look at Johanna; she hated how vulnerable and emotional she sounded, and it ought to have made the other woman uncomfortable. She brought her cup to her lips and immediately regretted it when Johanna spoke.

“Who’s to say I didn’t? I did come here to talk to you, didn’t I?”

The witch nearly spilled her tea all over the tiles. When she stared at Johanna, finding her looking right back at her, the woman only smiled calmly, as if the implications of what she’d said weren’t more than enough to shake Kaisa to her core. Still tranquil, she glanced at the book which was sitting on the counter of Kaisa’s kitchenette.

“Is this the book you told me you were reading?” She asked as she lifted up Much Ado About Nothing for the librarian to see. “When we were talking earlier?”

Realizing she still had her cheeks pouched with tea, Kaisa forced herself to gulp it down and nod. “It is. I have already read most of his plays but not this one, so I figured it was worth a shot.”

“We still have some time here, don’t we?” Once more, Kaisa nodded, fearing she looked like a stupid string marionette. “Would you read it to me? I find drawing while listening to stories very cosy.”

“That’s-” Kaisa’s lips slowly bloomed into a smile. “A wonderful idea.”

While the librarian sat down on one of the two chairs of the break room’s table, Johanna produced a sketchbook and a pencil from her pocket. Too distracted finding the place she’d stopped, Kaisa failed to notice most of the doodles in the drawing pad were of her. To that day it had never failed to surprise Johanna that she really believed she went all the way to the library just to doodle in peace.

“Would you like me to begin again so you can keep up with it better?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Johanna was already planning what she would draw. She’d sketched Kaisa so many times, admiring her from afar as she sat in one of the library’s tables, but the evening’s event had made her more confident that her feelings weren’t one sided. Surely a drawing was a more straightforward gift than a batch of cookies, she thought. “Just pick up where you left, it’s perfect.”

After taking a deeper breath, the librarian began.

“I do not love nothing in the world so well as you - is that not strange?”

[nanowrimo]

How Changing Your Environment Can Help Your Novel

Do you have a routine to your writing that’s feeling a bit stale? Sometimes all we need for a boost of writing inspiration is a change of scenery! Young Writers Program participant Brianna is with us today to share with us how switching up our routine—whether through travel or music—can benefit us as writers.

Picture this: You sit down at your desk for another day of writing. You click on the Google Doc (or grab that notebook) you’ve been working on/in diligently, and then it hits you: You have no clue what you are going to write.

If you’re like me, this has probably happened to you on more than one occasion. You don’t understand why—you always work in this place. What you see as comfort might just be what is causing your writer’s block.  

Sometimes all you need to do is change the environment you’ve been writing in. Going to a new place can help spark creativity. That single mother balancing a toddler on her hip could become inspiration for the daring mechanic repairing space ships to provide for her children. The charismatic librarian might find herself as the hero’s devoted mentor in a sci-fi story. 

Sometimes the best inspiration comes from the environments that we write in and the people we interact with. When I sat down at my laptop for the first day of NaNo last year, I was full of great ideas. I knew just where I wanted my story to go, but by day 15, I was lost. Turns out, all I needed was a small environment change and I was back to my usual writer self. Here are some ideas for how you can beat writer’s block with a few simple changes. 

1. Music

One of my favorite resources for inspiration is Spotify. I’ve created playlists for the books I’m working on and the places that I listen to music the most: I have a dance playlist for when I’m stretching, playlists broken up by genre, and of course a writing playlist with chill music. Now, you may be wondering how music has anything to do with environment. Music creates an environment in itself. We recognize generations by the music we listened to and certain songs bring back memories.

Try listening to a new playlist and write a short piece based off of the tone, genre, and message the song is sending. 

2. The Library

I volunteer at my local library by checking the books in and out and shelving returned titles, but when I’m not busy, it’s a great place to write. Sometimes I’ll just sit at the desk and describe the patrons that walk in and out. I also like to watch body language and the way people talk to one another. A fun challenge can be to go into your local library (if it’s currently open) and just listen to conversations. Not in a creepy, eavesdropping way! It doesn’t have to be a library either. Going into different stores and cafes can help get the creative juices flowing.  

3. Travel

Many authors travel to new places searching for inspiration. Writing in a new environment such as the beach or school can help defeat writer’s block and spark new ideas. Try visiting a new place and see the writing that could be born. 

If you can’t travel to a new place right now, try taking a trip to a different spot in your home. If you usually write at your desk, try writing at the kitchen table, in bed, or on the sofa. You could even try writing somewhere you normally wouldn’t sit, like on the stairs or in your dog’s bed. Do these new perspectives or locations inspire you to write something you normally wouldn’t think of?

Environments can play a huge part in writing and sometimes all a writer needs is a new place to spark creativity. I hope you enjoyed these tips and remember to write!

Brianna is a high school student with a passion for all things reading, writing, blogging, and Marvel. She enjoys reading anything from John Green to Sarah J. Maas, and aspires to one day publish a contemporary YA book. Brianna is the host of Brianna’s Books and Randomness, a blog where she reviews books, talks about writing, and discusses why Loki should be an Avenger.

Top photo by Kira auf der Heide on Unsplash

[wolfstarlibrarian]

Hello librarian, thank you for all the recs 😍 Do you have any fics with either of the boys as doctors/nurses/healers?

Yes! The Librarian loves this ask and the opportunity to shine some light on Remus and Sirius in these caretaker positions. Hopefully this will inspire more people to write this trope... 😉

Wolfstar Healers, Doctors, & Nurses

Black's Anatomy by @tonftyhw

Sirius is working as an intern at St. Mungo's. One of his first ever cases, a very snarky, very sick, and very attractive patient, tests everything he thought he learned in med school.

The "Sweetest, Kindest Person" by @kittycargo

Lily's friend Remus comes to the dental office where Sirius works to have his wisdom teeth removed.

Walking Toward Me -orphaned account

Remus is confused and Lily is furious when her old school mates James Potter and Sirius Black come to work as doctors at St Mungo's where Lily and Remus both work.

Cupid Disarmed by Chromat1cs

Remus Lupin has Veela blood, Sirius Black reads trite romance novels, and neither of them are quite sure what the fuck to do with their hands when they get to talking with one another.

Honeydew by @quoththethestral

Healer Sirius Black feels like his life is going through the motions. He is still recovering from the tragic death of his best friends four years prior while doing his best to parent their five-year-old son. However, when a new patient's encounter with a mysterious creature leads him to contact a person from his past, his life gets shaken up into one giant beautiful mess that he isn't sure he knows how to handle.

Fight me by @christinebh

Sirius is in the hospital and is tragically close to dying of boredom. In his search to find amusement he meets three different nurses but only wishes one of them would stay and amuse him. Inspired by a tumblr post.

Bad For You by @gooseberrybrains

Jesus, but this is getting ridiculous. He’s going to think I have some sort of deficiency if I keep letting him fluster me. I remind myself that it’s all in my head. He’s the doctor and I’m the lab tech, there is no way he has any interest in me beyond that. The girls in the front office are always flirting with him, and while he’s polite, he never returns the attention.

Healing by @dannikathewomanika

Remus's dog gets hurt, and the vet is way hotter than Remus was prepared for.

Unusual Practice by umbral_artist

A scheduled prostate exam goes sexual.

Friday I'm In Love by greensweater

The face smiles. It’s a man, Sirius sees, or someone who looks like a man, at least. He has tired hazel eyes, light brown skin, and some white, healed-over scars on his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. “I'm the lucky bastard assigned to take care of you.” He pauses, seems to realize that sarcasm maybe isn’t what Sirius needs right now. “Um. Your nurse.”

Ambassador To the Wild -orphaned account

Detective Sergeant Sirius Black just wanted a drink after a long day. That's all. So chasing down an assault suspect--whether or not he had noble intentions--was not on his list of things to do. Unfortunately for Sirius, the man--with the impressive arrest record--was a little more than just fascinating. He was also very good looking and it made Sirius want to throw protocol out the window.

How To Get Stabbed and Woo Someone Through Puns -orphaned account

You could say Remus and Sirius meet by accident. Sirius gets stabbed in an attempted mugging after making a bad pun. Remus is his doctor. There’s an obnoxious amount of puns.

Rococo by @quoththethestral

SEQUEL to Primavera.

Displaced by Coriaria

Sirius doesn't like the press. He hates the way they swan into the hospital when something big happens, film themselves in front of suffering people then bugger off again leaving Sirius to deal with the reality of human suffering. So when a photojournalist arrives in the camp two days before Christmas, he's not happy.

Happy reading and thanks for the ask!

[beholdme]

All the Many Shades of Gerry - Chapter 3

Chapters: 3/19

Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist

Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Gertrude Robinson, Elias Bouchard

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Library AU, Librarian Jon, Artist Gerry, Trans Male Character, Trans Martin Blackwood, Canon Asexual Character, Asexual Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Ace Subtype - Sex Positive, Polyamory, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Romantic Fluff, Falling In Love, Boys in Skirts, Kissing, Demisexual Gerard Keay, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Canon-Typical Child Neglect, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Flirting, Minor Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Adventures in Hair Dying, Happy Ending, Banter, Gerry has a lot of sass, Gerard Keay is Morticia Adams, Jon is a very grumpy Librarian, Martin adores them anyway.

Summary: In which Gerry is a kaleidoscope and Jon and Martin can't help falling in love with him.

He happens to love them back.

Find it on Ao3

[1] [2]

In the following weeks, as he sees Jon a few more times, Gerry's hair fades out and he looks rather more 'forest nymph' than 'American Gothic'.

So it's not much of a shock when the next time Jon catches sight of Gerry striding through the library stacks, his hair has been re-coloured. This time it's a smooth buttery yellow and Jon is struck by how young the warm, bright colour makes him look.

Gerry doesn't feel young though, he feels tired and bored and wrung out, and he wishes he had never agreed to take art commissions.

"It's only the one time!" Gertrude had insisted to a very put upon Gerry, very early in the morning. "And if he puts in a good word for you in his circles, your name will really be on the map in the art world."

Gerry wasn't particularly interested in being put on any maps, or being picked apart by rich, stuck up strangers, but he had agreed to try, mostly because Gertrude had put a lot of effort into making his passion for art an actual career and he felt like he owed her.

(He forgets, frequently, just how much of a commission she takes on the sales of his paintings).

So there he was, striding around the library at 7 am and desperately looking for exactly the right reference book. Unfortunately, it has been out of print for years, and Gerry can't seem to find a copy anywhere that won't cost him half a liver. He has the money now, but he refuses to pay half a month's rent to a second-hand retailer on principle.

Jon watches him skulk around for so long, (apparently forgetting that he is, in fact, a librarian) that Sasha comes out from her desk to ask Gerry if he's looking for something specific. She's wearing her big round glasses today and even indulged herself in her favorite waistcoat to beat the Monday blues.

"Why, yes." At this, Gerry looks directly up at Jon, where he is standing and watching him from the upper balcony level. Jon's face burns, and he ducks out of sight, but not earshot. "I do actually come here to borrow books, not boys." And he smartly feeds her the name of the reference book he has been hunting for almost an hour.

Sasha giggles at his antics, "We do have a copy of that, actually, but it's very popular. There's a waitlist; also it's checked out right now."

Gerry's whole demeanor sags and he sighs in defeat. "Guess I really will just have to order it off the internet, then." He eyes the stacks of books, old and new, looking vaguely betrayed.

"No!" Sasha's exclamation takes everyone a bit aback, being that they are in a library and all. "You know, my mate has this sweet little bookstore, and he loves hunting down rare copies of older books, he might have a copy?" She wrings her hands, eyebrows raised in question.

Gerry beams down at her, causing even stoic Sasha to blush and scurry off to get a piece of paper for the address.

They're already most of the way to the front desk by the time Jon realizes just which bookstore Sasha is busy recommending to the man he is dating , and just who owns that particular establishment.

By the time he manages to get downstairs to try to deflect the situation, Gerry is out the door, nothing left but the faint scent of oil paints and leather from his jacket.

***

Tim Stoker leaves Gerry feeling faintly dazed. By the time he stumbles out of the bookstore and into the tea room, elusive book in hand, he's forgotten everything he has ever known in the face of such intense flirting. And Gerry thought he was bad.

Throughout the whole episode at the library, the walk through Chelsea, and the exchange with Tim, Gerry had never once taken a moment to consider that Sasha's friend with a bookstore and Jon's Martin with a bookstore might be the same person.

He chooses to blame the lack of sleep and general disarray that is his life for the oversight.

Which is how, 9:30 in the morning, having been awake for almost 24 hours and completely finished, Gerry walks up to Martin in his tea room and says, "I'll have whatever is pink and in that jug, please. The biggest you've got."

Martin, of course, recognized him immediately. He would have recognized Jon's gothic childhood boyfriend from his social media stalking alone, but Jon's frantic texting was also a pretty big giveaway.

Martin: Relax, I don't bite clients this early in the morning. He's in safe hands with me.

Jon: HE KNOWS THINGS ABOUT ME. Besides, who's gonna stop him from biting you?

Martin: Whatever he has to tell me can’t possibly be worse than the office gossip I heard about you before we even meet.

Jon: W H A T

Now, here Gerry is before him, and he’s quite pleased with what he sees. Even tired and vaguely dazed, his presence in the little room carries a certain energy that Martin enjoys.

"Right away. Take a seat and I'll call you with it." Martin's voice is sweet, but gentle and firm, in a comforting sort of way. Through Gerry's sleepy haze, the instruction makes perfect sense, although he has neither paid nor offered a call name.

Gerry considers taking a seat on the plush bench that occupies one wall, before deciding that he desperately needs a cigarette, and wandering outside.

Technically he is only supposed to smoke at night when he's painting and needs just the right kind of boost, but he decides to call this one since he's on a painting-based errand when he's supposed to be sleeping.

"Gerry?" He turns toward the sound of his name, to find the barista offering him a large to-go cup of what he assumes is fruit ice tea. He frowns at having his name known (his new, much-preferred name, no less) and then frowns at a blonde, bespectacled man in a tea room attached to a bookstore.

His brain finally takes a moment to function, and he puts all the pieces together in an avalanche.

"Martin?" Far from his usual self-confident tone, the single word comes out in a squeak that would make even a toddler wince.

"Yes?" Martin returns the single word in the same solidly reassuring way, and even offers a happy smile.

"I didn't... I didn't recognize you."

"Would be pretty hard for you, considering this is the first we've ever met." Martin's voice is calming in a way that eases Gerry a bit, teasing and all.

"Thank you. For the tea, I mean." Gerry closes his eyes and desperately begs his shit to pull together for him, just this one time. "It's nice to finally meet you."

His hands are fully occupied with a book, a cup of tea, and a cigarette, but Martin doesn't seem particularly bothered by the lack of a hand to shake. "It's nice to meet you too. We're giving Jon a heart attack by doing it without him."

"That is the lawful good," Gerry says, after a long drag of his smoke. "A panicked Jon is a happy Jon, after all. Whatever would he do with himself without a situation to unnecessarily complicate?"

"Yes, the man does seem to thrive on anxiety, doesn't he?" Martin asks warmly, eyes crinkling around a fond smile. "Speaking of, you seem pretty wrecked yourself. Good party, I hope."

Gerry's answering laugh has a razor edge, "Not hardly. This fucking painting I'm working on will be the death of me." Gerry lifts the reference book as proof of trauma and stabs out his cigarette viciously.

"Hmm, sounds like a pain. I hope you typically find art a more enjoyable career?" Martin asks, tilting his head inquisitively. His curly hair moves fetchingly and Gerry catches himself tracking the movement.

"Mostly, yes. Although I keep the bartending gig for variety. You'd be amazed at the sort of inspiration someone can find in the right drunk crowd." Gerry grins, thinking of all the ridiculous things he’d seen walk in and out of the bar in his run there.

"I'd be very interested to see what kind of art you can turn that into. Maybe you'd like to show me sometime?" Martin's words are open and friendly.

Gerry eyes him for a minute, hiding behind a long taste of his drink. He's trying to suss out Martin's motivations, for his kindness and general geniality. The drink is good and it tips Gerry's mood far enough back into cheerfulness that he shrugs off his considerations for the time being.

"You know what," Gerry quips back. "I think I would like to show you sometime. How 'bout tonight."

It's not a question really, with Gerry's typical force of personality behind it, and he leaves the shop with Martin holding an address in his hand and a time to drag Jon over for dinner that evening.

***

Gerry does not make a big deal of Martin coming over. He acts as if any other friend is coming over for dinner.

He tidies, a little. Lights a few candles. Wears pants. The bare minimum really.

He isn't trying to impress anyone, he tells himself sternly.

Except he is, obviously. He doesn't know Martin very well yet, but he does want to keep Jon around, and they are a packaged deal these days. Which he was happy with, truly.

In their limited interaction, Martin had been sweet and put Gerry instantly at ease. He knows, from many years of working a bar, how to spot a dipshit, and feels confident in his assessment of Martin's character.

But, it's his own character that concerns him. People don't always like Gerry past surface interactions. He can be tempestuous and moody, and catching him tired is a pretty bad idea. The combination of artist and mommy issues can be jarring.

He desperately wants those things to not bother Martin though. He wants Martin to like him, and he's not interested in putting on a show to make it happen.

It occurs to Gerry an hour before they're due that he doesn't even remotely know what takeout to order for dinner.

(He knows what Jon will eat, and he obviously knows what he likes, but what about Martin? Why didn't he ask this morning? Why didn't he ask Jon earlier?)

Gerry is just starting to really panic about all the life choices leading up to this moment, when he gets a text from an unknown number, instantly filling him with relief.

Martin: Since you're hosting this time, I'll grab the take-out. Jon says you like Thai, I'll bring that. You got the drinks covered?

Gerry: As long as you drink either coffee, vodka, or water, yes.

Martin: I'm sorry, I subsist only on the blood of virgins.

Gerry: Oh dear. I couldn't tempt you to settle for Earl Grey?

Martin: Hmmm, yes, I'll accept your offerings this time.

***

The first knock comes right on time. Gerry, dressed in his best paint-stained jeans and cherry blossom kimono, opens the door with a flourish.

Martin allows himself to be welcomed in and hands the food off to the dramatic artist, who deposits it on the table where he has already set the tea tray.

"No Jon? Not that I mind quality ‘us’ time, of course."

Martin is busy taking in the rambling studio space and barely spares the attention to respond, although he manages a blush at the flirty tone. "He's, uh, running late. Work stuff. You know Jon."

Gerry smirks at that. "I do indeed. Is it a 'stumble in at 3am' late, or 'we could probably wait to eat' late?"

"Hmmm? Oh, let's wait a bit? If you don't mind." Martin seems equally taken with his painting wall and his book wall and keeps trading his attention between the two. The paintings, being the larger attraction, eventually win, and he meanders over to study them closer.

"Do you keep all the completed paintings around?" His voice is soft and reverent, and Gerry feels a rush of pride for his work.

"For a while. I like to make sure they're in their final forms before I release them into the wild." Martin blinks big brown eyes at him, before grinning and giggling slightly.

"You're very talented. Jon said as much, showed me the pictures, but words and photos are nothing compared to seeing the real thing." Martin really regards his paintings as if they're special, and rather than the prickly feeling of appraisal he feels during gallery nights, it fills Gerry with warmth.

He turns to examine the wall himself. It's filled with an eclectic group at the moment. Large abstracts made by pouring paint and then layering designs over, three-dimensional pieces painted and then embroidered or quilled over in select places, including a particularly wild eye design. Surreal faces and scenes that seem realistic except for the wild subject matter of planets in meadows and chimeras going to battle.

"Is this what comes from your adventures in bartending?" Martin asks Gerry, turning from the wall and towards the slightly taller man.

"That, and my traumatic childhood." Gerry makes sure to laugh at the last, taking the edge off the small confession.

"Obviously." Martin offers.

"Obviously." Gerry accepts.

***

Gerry and Martin drink tea on the floor while they wait for Jon. Gerry gently prods Martin through the story of how he came to open the bookstore. The blonde man even softly confessing that he had to lie on his CV to get the librarian gig at Magnus.

"How old are you? How did you convince them you had a Master's degree?" Gerry is incredulous. Not that he doesn't think Martin could have an advanced degree. But in paranormal research? Gerry hadn't even known that was an option.

"That's the thing! I'm only 29 now . I worked there for five years!" Martin's voice pitches up in disbelief. "I'm still in shock that anyone ever brought it. Desperate times, desperate measures, you know?"

"I do, actually." Gerry shifts slightly, adjusting his balance with the long remembered urge to flee from those desperate times. He fiddles with his teacup to distract himself. He brought this particular set from a pawn shop because the filigree and florals appealed to his love of colour theory. Soft pinks and corals warm against the cool aqua background.

"Jon says you wanted to go to art school when you two were younger."

It's not a question, but merely Martin offering the same space for openness that Gerry had given him.

"I never went. After my A-levels, I had to get away, and I never really stopped moving for long enough to go to uni when I was younger. Now I'm settled and it's not important to me anymore. Besides, no one asks for a copy of my phantom degree when I sell a painting. So I'm happy with how things turned out for the most part." He stops to consider the outline of a possible past for a moment, one where he didn't have to skip college and go ten years without seeing Jon. "Besides, can you imagine a 27-year-old in art school? The young ones would sacrifice me for more creative talent."

Their eyes meet for a moment, and then they laugh easily and move on to different topics, sliding through the easy stages of getting to know each other.

***

Jon does eventually arrive, looking panicked and harried. He de-ages 10 years when he finds them laughing and relaxed instead of tense and awkward.

So, the three of them eat cold Thai take out on the floor of Gerry's loft, leaning against the perfectly good couch. They share the odd intimacy of people who have known each other for very disjointed amounts of time but like each other just the same.

[desiraypark]

Clyde x Sherri Master Post

Clyde x Sherri is an ongoing non-linear series about (now) married couple, Clyde and Sherri (Simmons) Logan. Clyde and Sherri are currently living it up in “real-time”, but entries could be set in the past or future. Sometimes major events are sped up (ex: in real-time, they moved to Norfolk, VA in September 2020, but I’ve been writing them in their new city since July 2020).  This post (which is long, I must add) contains a breakdown of the series entries and some story development details (the Capricorn jumps out, y’all).  Full Series in Posting Order (Entry Breakdown below) LONG POST WARNING

ENTRY INDEX ( *- means they’re being sexy and/or they’re gonna bang) Before They Met July 1992 (Young Clyde x Sherri cross paths) Dating Era The First Date “Familiar” (How They Met) Untitled Prompt Request (Clyde asking Sherri to quit one of her jobs) “Was it for a good reason?” (Sherri learns about the robbery)  Shattered (continuation of the previous) Locked Away (cont. of the prev.) No More Secrets (cont. of the prev.) - Sherri x Jimmy Like Magnets (cont. of the prev.) Meet the Parents (Clyde meets Terry & Ramona Simmons) “Where’s Sherri?” (Request/Clyde x Sherri at a family cookout) Honeybunch (Why Sherri calls Clyde “Honeybunch”) Movin’ In (Prompt request)

Married (Before the child/children) Dearly Beloved (Part of their Wedding) Shut Up, Clyde* (Their Honeymoon) Summer Madness (Summer fluff) Bare Feet (Prompt Request - Clyde and Sherri enjoy a kiddie pool) Lil’ House Guest (Critter alert) Have Clyde’s Cake and Eat It, Too (Sherri can’t resist sweets) Sherri Logan, P.I.* (A lil’ roleplay)  Bad* (A hint of dominatin’ Clyde) Are We Ready? (Discussing children) “Where is my tongue?!” (Sherri gets her wisdom teeth pulled) A Birthday First* (Sherri puts on a show) Lunch Time* (Clyde his hungry) “Love Won’t Let Me Wait”* (Baby Fever in a thunderstorm) Yoink! (Sherri is not to be trifled with) Headed West (Clyde and Sherri move) Every Room* (You see what it says) Something in Common (Clyde and Sherri meet their neighbors) A Mean Old Fashioned (Clyde gets a new job) “Her Name is Sherri.” (Clyde finds the perfect job for Sherri) A Long Night* (If you give a Clyde a remote...) Negative to a Positive (Sherri suspects pregnancy) Deserving (Sherri helps Clyde through anxiety) Bad Mood* (Clyde fixes that lil’ attitude) Babies with Dimples (Clyde and Sherri have too much to drink) Sherri and the Giant Peach (Sherri tries on business clothing) Apple Pie (Sherri freestyles a popular dessert) Chef Sadie (Sadie goes on a cooking competition reality show) Too Much* (Clyde lets out some frustration) No Solids / No Sweets (Sherri’s sick and refuses to do the right thing) Cherries & Honey (Sherri gets a tattoo) The Near Future The Big People (From Clyde and Sherri’s child’s POV) Shush. (Pregnant Sherri wants Clyde to be comfortable) Peanut Butter Jelly Time! (Pregnant Sherri is hungry and horny) The Family Man (Clyde’s dad returns) Catwoman (The Logans go trick-or-treating) The Distant Future Ruby (Clyde and Sherri’s 40th Anniversary) The Weight (Part I - Part II) (Sherri deals with impostor’s syndrome) With Others No More Secrets (Sherri x Jimmy) The Little Things (Clyde x James Cooke) Extra Stuff The World of Clyde x Sherri - “behind-the-scenes” type stuff (includes their birth charts, text conversations, descriptions of their homes, etc.) Sim Clyde x Sherri (I made them in The Sims 4) _______________________ MAJOR TIMELINE The events of Logan Lucky are pushed back to 2015 solely because I wanted Clyde and Sherri to have known each other for a long-time (again, relative to “real-time”).  2015 Early May - Clyde got locked up Late August - Clyde got out December - Clyde moved into his own two-bedroom home // Clyde and Sherri “formally” met.  2017 January - Clyde and Sherri started dating Early April - Clyde and Sherri broke up Early May - Clyde and Sherri got back together Late May - Sherri formally met Jimmy and Mellie  June - Clyde met Sherri’s separated parents (Terry and Ramona Simmons) 2018 March - Clyde and Sherri got engaged September - Clyde and Sherri got married “2020″ September - Clyde and Sherri moved to Norfolk, VA. ______________________ BACKGROUND STORIES Some Clyde Logan headcanons; Sherri Logan development Content/Trigger Warnings: Depression; impostor syndrome; self-doubt; death; parent death; war mention; war injury mention; abandonment (by a parent); cancer mention. Sherri (Simmons) Logan was born on January 25, 1988, in Charleston, West Virginia. Her family moved to Boone when she was a toddler. She has an older sister named Robyn and a little brother named Terry Jr (aka TJ). Sherri graduated high school with a 4.0 GPA and attended North Carolina Central University where she studied Early Childhood Education for two years. Her life’s dream was to become an elementary school librarian. While in college, Sherri’s parents separated. As a result, she became depressed, and eventually so overwhelmed with school work that she dropped out.  Despite her inner desire, Sherri avoided any work in the education field and took on jobs in retail and customer service. When she and Clyde started dating, she worked two jobs--cashier at a dollar store and cashier at a local supermarket. She was also living with her best friend, Tasha. Sherri still feels the “sting” of (self-imposed) embarrassment that has come with being “the one who was supposed to “make it” but didn’t”, but occasionally considers returning to school. Sherri’s sister, Robyn, moved back to Charleston when she married Devon. They have a son, Devon Jr (aka DJ), and a baby girl named Princess. Her brother, TJ, lives in Atlanta, GA. Sherry currently works as the morning/afternoon receptionist at Busy Bees Daycare. Entries to Reference: “July 1992″, “Her name is Sherri.”, “Untitled Prompt Request”, “Familiar”. Clyde Logan was born on November 25, 1983, in Boone, West Virginia to Donna Logan and Timothy Green. He has an older brother named James (aka Jimmy) and a little sister named Melody (aka Mellie). When Clyde was about eight years old, Timothy (never having married Donna), abandoned his family--only sending the occasional postcard to his parents and for the first couple of years, birthday cards to his kids (through his parents). When Donna died of cancer in 1996, the Logan children moved in with their maternal grandparents, Aaron and Sylvia. 

Around this time, Clyde noticeably became more introverted, but often got in trouble for little mischievous acts (ex: setting off the school fire alarm to get out of a test; the occasional schoolyard fight). He joined the Army after high school and just as he was returning home after a second tour in Iraq, Clyde lost the lower part of his left arm in a roadside accident. Inspired by his newfound love for cooking shows, Clyde began taking bartending classes, and late in 2004, started working at Duck Tape. He worked there for sixteen years. 

Aaron and Sylvia Logan have since passed away (Aaron in 1999, Sylvia in 2008), as has Clyde’s paternal grandmother, Betty (d. 2013). His brother Jimmy currently lives in Greenbrier County, WV has a daughter named Sadie and a fiancée named (ironically), Sylvia. Mellie is recently married to Joe Bang. Clyde currently works as day bartender at a posh restaurant called Strafford’s Kitchen.  Entries to Reference: “July 1992″, “Familiar”, “A Mean Old Fashioned”, “Headed West”.  _____________________ I even have a work schedule for these two but I’m gonna to sit down somewhere and finish this. Bye. Lol.

[fantasyinvader]

Kamen Rider Saber: Finale and Series Review

Okay, before I start disemboweling this series I want to give the finale two points of props.

It was nice to see the main trio fight the big bad together rather than it just being the lead Rider.

The ending really feels nostalgic for me. It's like one of those old games or anime that tried to do something like Evangelion, mostly Star Ocean 3 comes to mind.

I was going to add another point: how the ending didn't have to rely on a cosmic retcon to turn things into a happy ending like Build or Zi-o did, leaving those who died dead and having some level of maturity. I was going to give the show that point, even if it felt like it was leading into Touma essentially becoming God, but then the show did it and...I'm going to be honest here, I was saying fuck you at the screen. Multiple times, kinda like when Doctor Who's 50th anniversary where it turns out Gallifrey wasn't destroyed, the Doctor sealed it away and just couldn't remember it. Like, that is the level of bullshit I was calling out, and with Doctor Who I only said it as an “oh fuck you” rather than just “fuck you fuck you fuck you” until I noticed I was doing this and stopped myself.

Got it? Good. Now let's put Kamen Rider Saber on the examination table, rip it open, and see what went wrong with it.

Oh my god, where to begin with this series?

You ever see a show or movie that tries to do too much for it's runtime? Maybe a book that has some ultimately good ideas, but it never fleshed them out properly? That's my biggest feeling with Saber. Individual parts of the story, some arcs and characters are good on paper. Not to mention, Touma has two incredibly sexy upgrades (the Ryuki-inspired Draconic Knight and the berserker Primitive Dragon). But there is just so much in here that, given the proper focus could have carried the show if properly developed. It's a case of quantity over quality.

But the main problem comes to it's central McGufffin, the Omniscient Tome. This book is supposed to have all knowledge and later on all stories contained within it. It's what powers Wonderworld and the Wonder Ridebooks that are the main collectable trinket of the season. But when you stop and think about it, Saber is a world where there is no free will and the antagonists are all rebelling against this in their own way. Kento's dad (former Kamen Rider Calibur) went rogue in the backstory because he was given a vision of the future through his sword, and it led to the former Saber taking up the role of Calibur and going rogue in order to learn the truth. When the other riders are turned against Touma, the argument is over how he's destined to become more powerful, making Touma seem like he's seeking power and could be a future threat. When Kento returns from the dead, he's haunted by visions of the world ending in multiple variations, leading to him trying to seal the Sacred Blades in order to stop it. But then Master Logos is revealed to be buttfucking insane, wanting to rebel against his position in the world. Then it turns out the monster faction's leader, was a former poet who lost hope when he learned that all his creations were already in the Omniscient Tome, so he decided he would end the world his way rather than the predetermined ending. And even then, the world still ended the way it was always fated to end, even with Touma disappearing to nu-Wonderworld if only for a year.

The world wasn't saved, it was destroyed and then rebuilt because Mei wrote an online post that encouraged people to share their stories, which they did in oblivion even though these guys shouldn't have seen the post at all and instead just heard her voice.

Like, maybe the nu-World has free will. I'd buy that. But when applied to the 47 episodes I've spent the last year watching (alongside the Zenkaiger crossover episode), it felt pointless because it ended the way it was foretold in the Omniscient Tome. It didn't matter that Storious was defeated, fate was not averted. It's like, the complaints people have about the MCU post-Loki. It doesn't matter that Tony decided to sacrifice himself, because he didn't have free will. He was always going to sacrifice himself. Thanos was always going to snap away half the universe, and it would always be undone because choices didn't matter before Loki's ending.

And that's not even going into how they final arc reveals that Touma can somehow create stories not present in the Omniscient Tome. That he can somehow, because the personification of Wonderworld choose him as a child, that for some reason he's the only writer in history that can do this. His catchphrase is about how he'll be the one who'll decide how the story ends, but with the idea that everything was set into stone? It's laughable.

Like, my problem with Zero One's ending was the last scene. Aruto had learned a lot about the Humagears and was an advocate for them finding their own dreams as they became self-aware AI. So him trying to treat a new humagear as just an amnesiac Is  and try to help her “remember”? That felt like a betrayal of the character and what he stood for. But the post-series movie revealed that Is left a copy of herself in the Zero Two driver, and merged with the non-self aware nu-Is who the movie kept reminding us wasn't the Is we knew. Aruto even had a sobbing scene about what he was doing, lowkey acknowledging what he was doing but without overtly calling him out. It fixed Zero One for me after that last scene left me with a bad taste in my mouth that overshadowed an otherwise excellent show.

You can't fix Saber with a single movie, that's what I'm getting at here.

So, with that out of the way let's go into my thoughts on each character.

Touma: Is one of the blandest main riders in the franchise. His sense of style is probably one of the worst I've ever seen though. Like I know they like to try and give the main riders their own look rather than having them dress like normal people, like Aruto wearing a hoodie under his suit jacket alongside with his very bright shoes, but this wasn't a W or even something like Ghost (where honestly I really liked Takeru's robe-like shirts). What they eventually settled on with Touma was a stupid hat, really baggy pants, and shirts that look like they came out of a stern librarian's closest. You know, the type with her hair in a bun and their horned-framed glasses on a chain.

Rintaro:Is one of those cases where he's meant to be the secondary Rider of the series, but is overshadowed because the writer likes to use someone else more. The idea of him having to turn against the organization that raised him (like a child soldier) could have worked really well if the series had a more free will-direction. But alas.

Kento: Kento's the one character I found I could really like. His arc was more interesting during the first quarter, his return as Calibur, but then he returned to being Espada and, as much as I love that suit, he just became Touma's main cheerleader. Really, I felt like towards the end it was a waste of him, especially since he doesn't get any power ups like Rintaro did to solidify him as one of the main three. He definitely feels like a victim of rewrites or just the writer not knowing what he was doing.

Mei: The female lead. Honestly, I just found her annoying most of the time. A womanchild to match Touma's more manchild moments, with a potential romance with Rintaro thrown in to only be confirmed in a future movie. Really, she should have taken over as Espada after Kento disappeared early on (especially since she's one of the three in the Ending dance while Kento isn't).

Daishinji: I'd say best boy, but he became a background character pretty quick.

Ogami: An older Kamen Rider who is also a father to a young child? Cool, and could even have worked in contrast to Rintaro's raising as essentially a child soldier. But alas, it was not to be.

Ren: OMG. A somewhat psycho younger Rider, idolizing Kento, and his social Darwinist beliefs on strength leading to conflict as Touma gets more powerful, leading to him abandoning the team to train with an enemy monster? HOW DO YOU MAKE THAT NOT WORK! I swear, Ren should have been the secondary Rider of the series, with his changes in beliefs being used more effectively.

Yuri: One of the most competantly written characters in the entire show. One of the original swordsman who became his sword, returning after 2000 years and not only feeling the culture clash of then and now but even how the idea of what makes a hero has changed? Good boy. Also loved him using a shadow body early on during fights.

Sophia: Why are you even here?

Reika: Oh boy, the swordswoman who leads the rest to distrust Touma under the orders of Master Logos, and doesn't sway from this until he's proven to be batshit insane? And even then, reluctant to join the others? Could have been better, especially if her relationship with her brother didn't come across as incesty. Though, could we please return her to Magine in Zenkaiger? Reika hugging her was really cute, in a socially awkward type of way.

Ryoga: Reika's brother. With his powers being something out of Jojo, time manipulation powers which are a bit hard to explain. He starts them and to his opponents things seem like the fight is continuing as normal, but he really exists outside of that and then can attack from a blindspot? Could have been really good with if the series had gone Team Free Will is all I'm saying.

Master Logos: What I mentioned above, but his Rider suit is one I'm in lust with. Just laughs like a madman and you're wondering why Reika and Ryoga don't rebel against him earlier.

The Megid: Two are a waste who I never bothered to learn their names. Fall out of focus for a bit and only return to be beaten, with the sad fact that they were once human. Storious is the exception, but even then I felt he was a little too late to save the series.

Tassel: Bon Lecture! I still hate you you weirdo, even if your death scene made me feel a little sad. The fact that you treated the early parts of the show as a story you were reading? Have you seen my other complaints?

As for the message of what the show tried to say? I don't really mind it. It's encouraging people to love stories, even if they are copies (considering the controversy of Time Paradox Ghostwriter and Cheat Slayer within recent memory, I'm trying not to make jokes about Saber encouraging plagiarism). And I don't think that's a bad thing in itself. Hell, how many stories take stuff from older stories and just tweak elements to make them their own? I love the Elric saga, but that was based on old legends and meant to subvert the likes of Conan the Barbarian, and some other stories I've liked have borrowed elements from it as well. The idea that stories can be used to pass on our hopes, thoughts and dreams to others is pretty nice as well, rather than writing being a form of masturbation on the author's part.

But in the shadow of the Omniscient Tome and it's implications, I really feel the story should have taken another route.

A lot of Riders start of weak, having to introduce the plot as well as the main release of whatever trinket they want kids to gorge themselves on this year. But they usually start getting better towards the end of the first quarter, while maybe stalling a bit towards the end of the second/third. Saber was a series that I felt never really found it's legs. Too many bareboned plot threads on the go, dropping some for a while only to pick them up again after they've been forgotten about. This is not a good series, to be honest I think Zi-O and even Ghost were better, and really feel it would have been better handled in the hands of someone who could actually write. 

Not to mention, this gave me flashbacks of Power Rangers Megaforce over how much this series relied on fight scenes. Throw in greenscreen everywhere, lack of civilians...oh god, it is Kamen Rider Megaforce. And it felt like Saber was trying to have a story, unlike Megaforce, but it has the same “it’s a kid’s show, we don’t have to try that hard” energy.

[scribblingfangirl]

WANDERLUST | The Witcher - Jaskier

not my gif!

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Author’s Note: My second attempt! I’m still not able to find a good ending, but I think I’m getting there. English is not my first language, so I hope there aren’t to many mistakes.

word count:  ~ 1.9k

prompt: //

warnings: //

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You were standing behind the bar, chatting with yet another drunken guest, well, rather distracting him from the fact that you hadn’t, even after his fifth attempt, given him another ale, when the door to the tavern flew open.

The man you had been fretting about since he had left with the Witcher the prior day stood there, smiling at you with open arms. “Mind my words Posada! The next thing you’ll throw at me won’t be bread! It will be coin! I will enchant you with the tales of the White Wolf and how he defeated your devil!” 

His sudden appearance and outburst startled a few of the guests that were spread out throughout the tavern and not drunk enough to be able to ignore him, resulting in a few spilt drinks and angry mutterations. You just sighed, while Jaskier, stupidly unaware of his surroundings, walked as if nothing had happened up to the bar and took a seat, scaring away the drunkard.

It would be a lie if you said that you weren’t glad to see him this way, alive and happy. Having heard the dark stories and tales about the Butcher of Blaviken, you couldn’t but be afraid for Jaskier’s life, or rather, his mouth, as he had the extraordinary ability to talk him into very stupid and dangerous situations. Yet, you knew what the grin and the mischievous glittering in his blue eyes meant. He had found his muse, his inspiration and would soon be leaving to begin a new adventure. It was just like the day he left his old life behind to pursue his new calling as a bard.

So, all you could do was chuckle at his usual exaggerated behaviour and started to wipe the counter. It was dark outside, well into the night and almost, if not already, closing time for the tavern, but you were waiting for Jaskier, knowing he’d return to you if he saw the lights still lit. Not that you would tell him that, or anybody else for that matter. You both might have been young, but his reputation was already well established and you didn’t want to be just another girl in his bed. You’d already lost your appreciation for yourself the moment you started to follow Jaskier around like a puppy and you didn’t want to sink any lower in your own regard.  

“You heard that? I’m going to be Geralt of Rivia's barker!” Jaskier said while leaning across the counter and tapping his finger excitedly against it. For the other tavern guests, it might have seemed, as if he was afraid, that you wouldn’t be able to hear him. You knew, however, that this was just his way, unconsciously always searching for a little more closeness than before.

As did you. Even though you could have lost yourself in his blue eyes, you soon felt your own wandering down his face, following the lines of his neck, over his Adam’s apple and stopping at the visible line of chest hair. Thankfully, he had already leaned back and turned around, not seeing the way your eyes betrayed you, as he started waving happily at the Witcher, who had just appeared in the doorway. 

You blushed in the meantime, cleared your throat, and hopefully head as well, not used to such a closeness to the bard. “The usual?” you asked to distract yourself and went to grab a clean glass behind you, hoping to give your face enough time to cool down.

“No,” you heard him say behind you. “Give us the best and strongest ale you have. After all, he defeated the devil of Posada!”

“Was it really the devil? With horns and all?” you asked, turning around and seeing that the Witcher had now approached you both and taken a seat besides Jaskier.

“Yes! And I’ve got a song to tell the tale! You’ve got to hear it! Oh!” he suddenly stopped, then smiled and stood up, bringing is lute to the front of his chest. “Actually, I have to perform right now it in front of this ungrateful lot. Let’s see how close I can bring them together now. This is…”

“... a story for another time,” the Witcher finished the sentence for him, his deep voice thick with annoyance and tiredness. He waved you off as you went to grab another cup, telling you to put the alcohol back. “This lady seems to be cleaning up and probably wants to close the bar. I’ll retreat to my chambers now.” After he stood up, he pushed Jaskier forcefully back into his seat, as he passed him to go to the stairs leading to the bedrooms.

“He’s either incredibly stupid or extremely brave, if he agrees to be accompanied by you, Jaskier,” you say as you look after him, completely missing the faint hint of jealousy that washes over the bards face.

“Hm,” you heard the Witcher grumble, as he stopped at the beginning of the stairs, having heard you thanks to his reinforced hearing abilities. “I never agreed to anything. You might even make a better travel companion.” Then he definitively stomped up the stairs, leaving Jaskier squirming, gesturing indignantly with his arms at the edge of your field of vision and squeaking helplessly. 

“You’re already welcome!” the bard finally called after him, but you doubted that the Witcher heard it, reinforced hearing or not. Then he placed his lute carefully on the counter. “Isn’t she sexy? I got her from Filavandrel after one of his fellow elves broke my old one. That’s at least one reason to celebrate,” he added quickly, as he saw that you had started to clean up the bar for real and gestured to the last guests to pay up and leave. “Why does nobody ever care about Jaskier?”, he asked then, pouting and slouched against the bar, staring at the wall in front of him.

“I care about Jaskier, a lot, but some of us do have a job so that they’re able to go home with some coin.” Without a second thought, you pushed his hair out of his face, so that you could take a proper look at him, freezing for a short while the moment you touched his forehead and then retracting your hand and occupying it with any task you could think of.

Jaskier didn’t react immediately. He seemed frozen too, then moved his head and looked at you, still slouched against the counter, but a with a bright smile plastered on his face. You didn’t like that look. Suddenly he heaved himself up, clearing his throat and supported himself with his arms on the counter. “You could come with us! Be my muse! After all, Geralt did say that you might make a more favourable companion than I. You must give me the possibility to prove him wrong!” 

The silence that followed his request gave him the answer he needed but didn’t want to hear. “You… You don’t want to?”, he inquired stunned.

“Jaskier.” You breathed out his name and weren’t even sure if it was loud enough for him to hear. Gladly you took the coin the last tavern guest handed you as a distraction. This was his wish and dream, not yours. You weren’t a traveller, didn’t want a big adventure, just a cosy home and someone who loved you to come home to. Things Jaskier would never be able to give you, you knew that and yet, your heart just couldn’t let go of him.

“Why?” His voice nearly broke saying just this one word and he stared at you, his eyes wide open as he grabbed your hands, that were scrubbing the same spot over and over for the past minutes.

You clenched your eyes shut and blew air out of your nose. “We both know why. I mean, come on! The university staff was right to look at me weirdly as I quit my job at the same time as you. I should’ve just stayed in Oxenfurt as a librarian. Look at what you’ve been doing while I stayed behind, watching over drunkards and sweeping tavern floors. What would I be even bringing to the table?”

His hands clenched tighter around yours. “I think we have to go now.” 

That was an answer and reaction that you weren’t expecting. “What, where? Wait, Jaskier!” You almost didn’t have the time to finish up your work behind the bar, as he started to pull you towards the exit.

Opening the door for you, he let you get dressed quickly before he shoved you out into the cold air. “I have to show you something.” 

This is when you realized that he let go of your hand and instead intertwined his fingers with yours. Blushing again, you tried to hide your face somehow from his view and act as nonchalantly as possible, even if it was almost pitch black at this time of the night, save for the occasional torch that was nearly burned down, and almost impossible for you to see his face, to begin with.

He stopped suddenly in front of the stable and turned you around to face him, looking serious. “I want to introduce you to someone. But do not tell Geralt about it! See… well, technically,” he started to babble nervously and his fingers fidgeted against yours. “You know what? Never mind!” He pushed the stable doors open. “Meet Roach!” 

He had a plan, at least that much you had to give him. He knew how much you liked animals, especially horses, and wanted to convince you to join his travels by saying that you’d be able to watch over Roach and maybe even convince Geralt to let you ride her. Sadly, after walking around the stable for a few minutes, Jaskier had to admit, that he had no idea which horse it was, as he didn’t know what she looked like anymore.

You just punched him lightly in his shoulder and laughed, as you finally exited the stable. “All right, all right! You tried and you convinced me. I’m coming with you! Even if it’s only to help you out of tricky situations and keep track of your, apparently, rather leaky brain. But I won’t be playing matchmaker. If people are stupid enough to follow you into your room, that’ll be their fault.”

He turned around, after closing the doors behind you, looking bewildered. “Why would I need a matchmaker? As far as I’m concerned, there is a beautiful young barmaid right in front of me. My, as I’d like to call her, muse, whom I’ve been trying to impress since seeing her the first time in Oxenfurt, but, admittedly, failing miserably every time.”

This time your silence gave him the answer he needed and wanted. It would have been a lie if you’d said that you weren’t stupid enough to follow him to his room and that you were angry for throwing your own rules out of the window so fast. Being his muse for a little while and travelling with him and the soon to be White Wolf - and yes, deep within Geralt was thankful for the image change - was something you’d never come to regret. You were still young, after all, and had your whole life in front of you to find someone to come home to, and who knew? You’d helped Jaskier achieve his dreams, he might be able to help you achieve yours.

[emospritelet]

I'm having massive anxiety attacks over COVID-19 so for the promptathon I'd like to submit 14, and I hope it hasnt been done yet. If it was, then 18 ;-) Thank you for doing this!

14: “I’m afraid there’s only one bed”

You know what I’m about...

This is a continuation of Curfew and is inspired by two posts on unusual words by @bibliosauruswrecks

Prompt list here

[AO3]

x

“Scrabble?” said Belle. “Are you sure?”

When Gold had asked if she wanted to play a game, she had agreed readily. The tiny grin he had and the gleam in his eyes was too intriguing to resist. If she was entirely honest with herself, she had been hoping he would propose something a little more shocking than Scrabble, and told herself off for her libido’s ability to twist the most innocent of statements. Face it, Belle, he was unlikely to suggest a game of who can orgasm the most in a single night. Which is a pity because I bet the answer would be you. 

“I thought, as a librarian, you might appreciate it,” said Gold, sliding the box out from the middle of the small pile of board games she had. “Perhaps we can teach each other some new words.”

“Well, I could never object to that,” she said, and he grinned, catching her eye as he stepped past her to the kitchen.

“In that case,” he said. “Perhaps you’d care to make things interesting. A small wager with the spoils to the winner?”

Belle followed him in, watching as he set the box on the table and pulled out her chair.

“What are the stakes?” she asked, and the smile grew, revealing the gold tooth on his lower jaw.

“Oh, I don’t know just yet.”

“You’re expecting me to agree to something without knowing the terms?” she asked flatly, and he shrugged.

“I did say let’s make it interesting.”

She couldn’t quite decide whether he was flirting or not, but either way she was feeling reckless, and she put her hands on her hips, raising her chin.

“Alright, you’re on,” she said defiantly.

“Good. In that case, shall we have another glass of wine?”

“Trying to get me drunk in the hope it’ll put me off my game?” she asked, and he grinned.

“You got me.”

“Well, it won’t work. I’m the Scrabble queen.”

“All hail Your Majesty,” said Gold, bowing his head. “But I won’t be prostrating myself at your feet just yet.”

“Huh.” She took a seat, reaching for the wine bottle. “We’ll see about that.”

x

“Oh come on!”

Belle huffed in irritation as Gold placed his final tile.

“Blatherskite? Are you serious?”

He smirked.

“Look it up.”

Growling under her breath, Belle reached for her dictionary. It had already been well thumbed during the two games they had played, for words both of them had used. It was one game each, and they were most of the way through the decider. She had been winning. Until Gold broke out ‘blatherskite’, of course. She grumbled when she found the word, and closed the dictionary with a thump.

“Okay, fine,” she said loftily. “You can have that one.”

“Very generous of you.”

Belle drank the rest of her wine, setting down the glass and totting up the score. She was feeling a little light-headed; they had finished one bottle and started on a second, and she had enjoyed their games. Gold was excellent company, highly intelligent, with a dry sense of humour that complemented her own. Sitting across the table from him hadn’t helped her deal with her rising lust, and her attention had wandered on occasion to what he might be hiding underneath those close-fitting suits. Gold seemed oblivious to her desire. Or perhaps he wasn’t remotely interested in her. Now there was a depressing thought.

Shaking her head, she turned to her own tiles, chewing her lip as she studied the board. Gold reached out to pour them some wine, and Belle’s eyes flicked between the tiles and the board. I can’t put that. Seriously, brain, is that all you can come up with?

“Do you forfeit, Miss French?”

Belle glanced up, a blush rising in her cheeks. He was watching her with a tiny grin on his face, lounging in the chair as his long fingers stroked the stem of the wine glass.

“Did you decide on the stakes yet?” she asked, and he shrugged.

“I’m still thinking that one through.”

“Huh. In that case I’m not forfeiting anything.” 

She inhaled deeply, reaching for a tile and spelling out O-R-G-A-S-M. Gold raised an eyebrow, his twisted smile growing a little.

“Really?” he drawled. “So early in the game?”

“We don’t all have to work up to a big finish,” she said, and he chuckled.

“Touché.”

Belle totted up her score, then took some more tiles and sat back, pleased with herself. He looked amused, and she took a sip of wine as she watched him studying his own tiles. Okay, I threw him a line and he didn’t run in horror, so that’s something.

“You stuck?” she asked cheerfully, and Gold glanced up.

“Not at all,” he said. “I’m just wondering whether I should spell out something innocuous or follow you into the gutter.”

“Hey, you can have a ton of fun in the gutter.”

“I imagine so.” Fingertips caressed the tops of his tiles. “Very well.”

He used five tiles, expanding on her word to spell out his own: S-Y-N-O-R-G-A-S-M-I-A. Belle sucked in a breath, and he looked up, meeting her gaze.

“Do you want to look that one up?” he asked softly, and she shook her head, her blush deepening.

“No, I know what it means,” she said. “Simultaneous orgasm, right?”

“Mutual pleasure,” he said. “Correct.”

He was still looking at her, and she could feel that low-down tug in her belly as her arousal grew.

“Well, I guess that’s one way to pass the time,” she said, and Gold’s eyes gleamed.

“One of many.”

Belle grinned, enjoying the flirting. Her eyes roved the board as she considered the tiles she had. Early in the game, when her tiles had been little but Qs and Xs, she had resorted to spelling out fell. The excess of vowels she now had would come in useful. Her eyes flicked up to meet Gold’s, and she licked her lips as she selected her tiles, spelling out her chosen word F-E-L-L-A-T-I-O. Gold’s grin turned wicked.

“Really?” he said. “What a promising choice.”

“Another way to pass the time, perhaps,” she said innocently.

“Indeed.”

She scored her word while he looked at his tiles, sitting back when she was done and taking a drink of wine. Gold was still glancing between the board and his tiles.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, and he shrugged, gesturing at her last word.

“I’m afraid I don’t have enough tiles to return the favour,” he said, and Belle giggled.

“Does that mean I win?”

Gold sat back in his chair with a secretive smile on his face.

“Perhaps.”

“You didn’t decide on the stakes in this wager,” she said. “What do I get?”

“What do you want?”

Belle hesitated, her heart thumping. She knew very well what she wanted, but although they had been flirting quite shamelessly for a little while, she didn’t want to make a fool of herself. He was watching her, a glint in his eyes, and she decided to go for it. If she totally misread the situation, she could always blame the wine. She took a deep breath, gesturing at the Scrabble board.

“I - I want to try another way of passing the time,” she said, keeping her eyes fixed on his. Her heart was high in her throat, but Gold smiled, drumming his fingers slowly on the table top.

“Very well,” he said. “In that case, let’s put the board away. It’s getting late.”

“Yes.”

He took a drink, and Belle did the same. Desire was rising in her, making her skin tingle and causing an insistent throb in her groin. Gold set down his glass, the tip of his tongue sweeping across his lips.

“You were very kind to invite me up here tonight,” he said quietly. “I’m grateful you offered me a place to stay.”

“Yeah, about that…” Belle put down her glass. “I’m afraid there’s only one bed.”

“I see.”

His eyebrows twitched, a corner of his mouth pulling upwards.

“Do you want me to sleep on the couch?” he asked softly.

“No.”

“Very well.”

Gold pushed back his chair, getting to his feet, and held out a hand to her.

“Shall we see how many ways we can find to pass the time?”