#a gift to the fiction

[emeraldcreeper]

Soemday I’ll read a book where the characters don’t grate against my brain for 200 pages too long and I’ll like a book again holy shit the last two books I read part of were total garbage fiction

[mpchev]

Dissertation on Fanfiction Bookbinding — Looking for participants! [EDIT: Thank you so much, participants found!!!]

[Edit continued: I'm still sorting through emails and setting up meetings, will reply to everyone very soon, I can't even begin to thank everyone enough for the visibility that's been given to this 💜 I'll keep the updates coming as I work on the dissertation (and learn how to bookbind), in case anyone would like to follow along. For any questions about the research or comments/suggestions/resources about ficbinding, my asks are wide open. Thank you thank you thank you!!!]

Hi! My name is Marie Chevrier, I’m currently doing my postgraduate dissertation on fanfiction bookbinding, and I’m looking for people to talk to about it!

If you’ve ever taken a fanfic from somewhere online and turned it into a physical copy, either for yourself or as a gift, I’d love to know more. From printer paper stapled together to typesetting and painted edges, nothing is too simple or too complex — I’m interested in the whole process, what motivates readers or authors to bring the story to a different format, and how it’s one more way to interact with stories actively and creatively. This will be the final project of my MLitt in Folklore and Ethnology with the Elphinstone Institute (University of Aberdeen, Scotland).

What to Expect

To participate, you must be 18 or older and speak English. I’ll give you more details and answer any questions you might have via email, and will then set up individual video calls with participants (if you happen to be in North-East Scotland, we could also meet at an agreed public location). I’ll tell you more about the dissertation and explain how what you share will be used, which depends entirely on what you agree to, including if you would prefer your contribution to be credited or anonymised. I will ask you about your experience with fanfiction bookbinding and if you have some examples to show me, I would love to see them! Meetings will last approximately 45–90 minutes and take place in June 2024. You have the right to withdraw your participation at any time.

Contact Information

If you’d like to participate or have any questions, please send me an email at m.chevrier.23@abdn.ac.uk

To know more about the Elphinstone Institute, please visit https://www.abdn.ac.uk/elphinstone/

To know more about me, here's an intro post for you.

If for any reason you don’t wish to participate but still have comments/suggestions/resources/musings you’d like to send my way, please do!

[laurelindebear]

Anna @minilev has done it again with another stunningly beautiful picture for me!! I gave her a few ideas and this is the one she went with and LOOK HOW GORGEOUS IT IS!!!! Look at the relief carvings on the wall!! Look at the stars outside! Loooooook!

Thank you thank you thank you thank you again so so much for indulging me yet again! ❤

[a2zillustration]

I love my band of sad wet cats who have never had anyone do anything nice for them ever apparently.

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[[ All Croissant Adventures (chronological, desktop) ]]

[[ All Croissant Adventures (app) ]]

[redvioletarts]

[Image ID: A photo of an 11oz black coffee mug with a custom design in white lineart and hand-lettered text. It says "Dear FBI" in large print over art of an Internet search bar with suggested previous searches below. The text in the search bar says "I'm A Writer I Swear" in all caps, and the previous searches read "detect gps tracker on car," "arsenic lethal dose," and "black market prices for..." with the rest of the text cut off. End ID.]

Lines printed up great on this one! The text came out nice and clear.

Writing research got you looking sketchy lately? Throw the Feds off your trail by also buying this. Guaranteed to not get you investigated for your weird search history. Probably. ...Well, it won't hurt.

(Maybe you should get a VPN in any case.)

The design prints up on both sides, to be fair to the lefties for once. All my mugs do.

Dear FBI, I'm A Writer I Swear <- get yours!

[galina]

Just finished: The Amendments, Niamh Mulvey. I was sent an advance review copy by picador. It took me a while to warm up to this one, but in the end I really enjoyed the way Mulvey delivers complex difficult emotions using straightforward language, not wallowing in grief but also not flinching away from some of the hardest conversations around birth, death and religion. And I do have a soft spot for Irish writers, and multi-generational stories

[lisbeth-kk]

Sherlock fandom.

When Words Aren’t Enough

“There are no such things as stupid questions, only stupid answers,” Sherlock tells Rosie.

“Since when?” John wants to know. “That’s not what you usually say.”

“Well, I obviously meant from our daughter, John. Do keep up!”

The great detective winks at nine-year-old Rosie Watson-Holmes, who’s seated by the kitchen table at Sherlock’s parents.

“Ok. Names and flowers,” the little girl starts. “I have a flower name, just like Granny and my teacher, Lily. I know that boys also can have them, but that’s not common, right? Why?”

She looks expectantly at her Papa, who ponders the questions. Sherlock takes everything Rosie says seriously, and John is still astonished by how patient he is with her.

“That is correct, bumble. It probably has to do with something absurd, like that a flower related name isn’t masculine enough. And most of such names are more related to plants, herbs, and trees than actual flowers. The infamous Narcissus is the only one with a flower name that springs to mind at the moment.”

“I have another question related to flowers too,” Rosie says, having evidently binned the thought of male and female names for now.

“Let’s hear it,” Sherlock coaxes when his parents enter the kitchen from different directions.

Sherlock’s mother comes through the door from the living room, while Sherlock’s father enters from the garden. The latter is cradling a bouquet of violets in his hand, which he hands over to his wife. Violet Holmes looks at her husband with starry eyes and kisses him briefly on the lips.

“Thank you, my love,” she whispers and turns to find a vase to arrange the flowers.

Walter just turns and walks towards the garden door again, and is gone the next second. Before Violet places the vase on the table, she buries her nose in the flowers and inhales deeply.

“He still does that,” Sherlock murmurs, sounding a bit bewildered.

Violet hums in agreement.

“You know he’s not as good with words as you and me, Sherlock. So, when words aren’t enough, or fail him, this is his way of communicating his feelings. It’s quite wonderful,” she says dreamily and starts to make tea.

“That was what I wanted to ask about,” Rosie whispers.

She seems a bit taken aback by the loving encounter. Not that she’s unused to affection between adults. It’s been years since Sherlock and John were embarrassed to kiss in front of Rosie, but her grandparents doing the same thing, seems to have put her off kilter.

“What was?” John prompts when Rosie isn’t forthcoming with her question.

“Oh…um…flowers. I mean, there’s something called the language of flowers, yes?”

“Indeed!” Sherlock beams. “Let’s investigate that. It might come in handy in my work as well.

John shakes his head when the two curly heads lean over John’s laptop to read about roses, violets, daisies, tulips, gardenias, carnations, and zinnias.

***

Some weeks later, John comes home from work and finds an absurdly grand bouquet of flowers on the kitchen table. Rosie and Sherlock are in the park, so John has the flat to himself for a while. He looks for a card and finds one stuck between two green carnations.

My dearest, John

Words can’t describe what I feel for you, so I have turned to nature for guidance. A thousand kisses if you can decipher the meaning behind every flower.

Yours forever. Sherlock

The card quivers minutely in John’s hand and his eyes fill with tears. He indulges in the sentimentality that fills his body for a few minutes before he hastily retrieves his laptop from the coffee table. There’s no way of knowing how long it’ll be before Sherlock and Rosie return, and John is rather keen on getting the promised number of kisses from his husband.

It doesn’t take as long as he thought to gather the evidence and what John finds make his heart ache with longing and love for the remarkable man that has chosen him as a life companion.

He doesn’t even have to check what the green carnations mean. They are a symbol of homosexuality, closely associated with Oscar Wilde.

Then there are:

Honeysuckle – Bonds of love

Yellow lily – Happy

Myrtle – Love in a marriage

Sunflower(dwarf) – Adoration

Red tulip – Passion

Daisy – Loyal love

White camelia – You’re adorable

Red rose – I love you

Blue salvia – I think of you

Violet – Faithfulness

To John’s glee, Rosie stops at Mrs Hudson when they come home, and John gets to enjoy his prize, willingly delivered by his soppy romantic of a husband.

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

This is also my entry to this month's Sherlock Challenge and the prompt language.

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@flashfictionfridayofficial @sherlockchallenge @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno

@helloliriels @raina-at @meetinginsamarra @safedistancefrombeingsmart @gregorovitch-adler

@topsyturvy-turtely @jolieblack @peanitbear @phoenix27884 @bs2sjh

@brandiwein1982 @meandhisjohn @a-victorian-girl @221beloved @ninasnakie

@shy-bi-inlovewithregandmoony @lhrinchelsea @missdeliadilisblog @salmonsown @oetkb12

@jawnscoffee @gay-ass-bitch @acumberlockedgirl

(Tell me if you want to be tagged or removed from the list)

[dandydiary]

imagine your f/o collecting things!

this could be something simple like trading cards or stamps, or maybe its something odd and more personalised to their tastes. lucky you, you always have a go-to gift idea to give your f/o something new for their collection.

where do they keep the collection? is it big or small? how long have they been collecting this thing? what do they collect? (and please feel free to elaborate in the tags because i LOVE hearing about other peoples’ f/os and their quirks).💖

[whatlovelybones-if]

"the screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain" THE WHAT?! YOU DARE AVERY??? AND WTF J???

What would happen if MC and J were about to kiss, but MC suddenly stopped and just apathetically stared at them and said that they resented them for not being their first kiss, and just left? 😂😂

(Also, did MC have a some sort of relationship before the story began, or is that left for headcannon?)

it started with a simple statement.

“i won’t be riding back with you today,” J said.

you didn’t mind, not really. of course, you used to take every opportunity to spend time with them, but you could understand that they had their own life and sometimes their plans didn’t line up with yours.

“anything special you got planned?” you joked while closing your school locker, but you feel your insides wither and shrivel like a crumpled flower when they give you the actual reason.

“avery wanted to take me home today,” J said, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal but the embarrassed pink on their cheeks give them away.

you had a feeling whatever was going to happen today, you wouldn’t be liking it at all. on top of that, J was acting weird as hell. not to mention that this avery person had been someone they’d been weirdly close the past couple of days.

you also happen to know that avery lived on the other side of town, completely off the route you and J took to get home every day. avery wasn’t just giving them a ride; it was something else. the more you thought about it, the more it sounded like a date. a motherfucking date.

you felt your heart starting to weigh three times heavier as you forced a smile and said, “oh, sure, that’s fine.” and then, before you could stop yourself, you found yourself stupidly asking, “so did they ask you out on a date or something?”

to save yourself the embarrassment and act nonchalant, you find yourself ruffling their hair slightly. if J noticed that you were forcing it, they didn’t let it show. instead they just laughed nervously, trying to fix their hair, and said, “actually, i was the one who ended up asking them out.”

wonderful. you wanted to scream, but you managed to give them the fakest smile you could. “i’m so happy for you.”

J picked up on the hint that maybe you weren’t feeling as happy as you’re saying you are because they asked, “are you alright, teddy?”

that nickname hurts even more now as you nod, “of course, why wouldn’t i be?”

one of J’s love languages has always been physical touch and everything just gets a lot more complicated; their hand on your back is warm, the inky dark eyes that stare back at you are kind and worried, the full pink lips that you wish to kiss look so inviting. they smell the same as always: leather, strawberries, spearmint, and marlboro red smoke masked by a fancy cologne/perfume.

“did i do something wrong?” J asks, looking like a kicked puppy.

you can’t stand it. the concerned look on J’s face as they ask you what’s wrong when everything is wrong right now. it’s wrong that they can’t see how much you love them. it’s wrong that they can’t see how loving them has become second nature for you. it’s wrong that they can’t see how you don’t want to be just their best friend.

knowing them, you know your best friend is probably imagining a thousand different scenarios of how they must’ve hurt you. but you know that they didn’t hurt you, they could never do that, at least not intentionally.

then you do it. you actually do it. one of the stupidest things you have ever done in your 15 years of existence.

you leaned in and kissed them.

the look on J’s face makes you wanna crawl into your own skin and die. their body had tensed up, their lips frozen open, parted but not uttering a sound. all of that was enough to tell you that it was fucking mistake. so you do the only thing that made sense to you at that moment: you turn and run outside like a fucking coward.

time seemed to slow down, each second stretching impossibly beyond normal. the only sound that could be heard was the rain. heavy, rhythmic, and coming down without pause. you don’t even feel the chill setting in as your whole body burns with the shame of what you did and the image of J’s reaction only makes your skin crawl more.

stupid, stupid, stupid!

you run across the parking lot to get to your car and book the hell out of the school campus. you utter a loud curse when you check your pockets and realise you left your car keys in your locker.

you’re soaked to the bone and you aim a swift kick at your car; panting like you just ran a marathon, hair sticking to your neck and cheeks, heavy breathing pushing your chest up and down, your face wet from both the rain and your tears.

tears? no, you’re not wrong, you can feel the saltiness mixing up with the rain and pouring down your face. you haven’t cried in forever. at least not in a genuine way.

why in the world did it have to J of all people that you had to fall for? they had been your best friend since you were kids, always a constant and comforting presence in your life. almost a decade of friendship down the drain because of your stupid feelings. it wasn’t worth it at all to lose your best friend like this.

your best friend who’s now calling your name. a yell in the distance muffled by the sound of the rain and of your breaking heart. your breath hitches but you ignore them. there’s no way you can face them, not right now.

“for god’s sake, you can’t just kiss me and walk away! hey!” J yells out.

“go away, J! i really don’t want to talk to you right now.”

they catch up to you, refusing to let you run off again. “and why is that, hm?”

“i don’t know!” you answer, throwing up your hands in exasperation. “i’m ignoring you right now.”

“well,” J continues to stubbornly come closer, “i am ignoring the fact that you’re ignoring me.”

you give them a glare. “that’s not how it works.”

J matches your challenging glare. “fine then. tell me why you kissed me and i will leave you alone.”

“i kissed you because i love you, you daft dumbo!” you nearly yell, frustrated beyond reason. ignoring the dumbfounded look on J’s face, you continue, “i’ve loved you ever since we were kids. i love your eyes and how they sparkle like stars when you’re talking about music. i love your voice and how it soothes me whenever i’m having a hard time. i love how you know me and know exactly what to say to make me feel better whenever and wherever. i just love you so much and i cannot stand the thought of you with avery. i will get over this though, J, just give me some ti—”

in a heartbeat, they lean in and their lips are on yours. you can’t help the gasp which slips out of your mouth, too surprised, too tense, and J holds your face dearly like you’re something precious, pressing your lips and body against theirs with something akin to desperation. both of you so entirely soaked from the rain, so entirely frightened, so entirely in love.

when the kiss ends, it’s because both of you are completely out of breath. J doesn’t let the space between the two of you grow any further, though. they instead press themselves further against you, your bodies fitting like perfect puzzle pieces.

“don’t get over me,” they plead, the taste of strawberry in your mouth, forehead against yours, dark eyes fluttering close. “don’t ever get over me.”

“b-but,” you stutter, head still spinning, “what about avery?”

J groans, following it up with a chuckle. “one date and i think even they’d be able to see it.”

“see what?”

“how you are the one i’m in love with.”

before you can even process what they just said, they lean in again to seal it with a kiss.

[jintaka-hane]

Raisins

Masterlist

Img src

Notes: Benn Beckman x brat f!reader. This is a stupid idea - gift to my lovely @fanaticsnail, to give her some comfort and encouragement regarding the last glimpse into her life. Beckman isn't very good in the kitchen, but he does is best 💕 🚬 Word count: 800 Summary: When you're hungry, you're a grump. And it's even worse when they bring you things you don't like.

Ever since Lucky Roux had dislocated his shoulder, nobody cooked aboard the Red Force, and the red-haired pirates made do with whatever they could scrounge up from the galley to survive.

You found yourself in there, hungry and grumpy, scouring for a snack. Provisions were running low, and a group led by the ship's second-in-command had just returned from resupplying ashore. As you rummaged through the pantry for something to munch on, the chatter of returning voices outside announced their arrival back on board.

Benn Beckman strode into the galley, a cigarette clamped between his lips as usual. Upon seeing you, he greeted you with a familiar warm smile just as he always did.

"Feelin’ a bit hungry, are we?" His muscular scarred arms flexed as he lifted the weighty shopping bags onto the table. Each one seemed to weigh a ton, but it didn't appear to trouble him.

"Yeah, and there's nothing here…"

“Don't worry, darlin', I've bought yer favorite cereal for breakfast."

Eagerly, you pounced on the shopping bags, seeking the prized cereal box. Your hands landed on a square cardboard container, which you swiftly pulled out. As you gazed at it, disappointment clouded your face... Cereal with raisins, the product name read.

You loathed raisins with every fiber of your being.

With a frustrated expression, you glanced at Beckman, unable to hide your annoyance.

"Seriously?! With raisins?!”

He snatched the box from your grasp and examined it closely.

"Guess I mistook these brown things for chocolate,” he said shrugging his shoulders and handing you the box again.

“I hate raisins, Beck!!" you shouted, throwing the cereal container onto the table.

“Come on, doll, I’m sure it doesn’t taste that bad," he was calm, his cigarette still in his lips and a wisp of smoke curling from it.

You huffed in response, aware that your reaction wasn't the greatest. But frankly, you detested raisins and the idea of having to eat that crap for the rest of the week infuriated you beyond measure. You couldn't hide it.

As he observed your spoiled reaction, his own irritation and frustration threatened to mirror yours.

“Easy now, don’t be like that,” he tried to stay composed, “next time I’ll buy others”.

You didn't want to listen. Taking long strides, you stormed out of the kitchen, slamming the door shut without even saying goodbye.

"Spoiled girl…", he muttered angrily, shaking his head, “ungrateful brat…”.

You spent the rest of the day on deck, attending to some of your duties. Beckman was nowhere to be found, and you still felt yourself quite angry enough to seek him out and talk to him. Your reaction was somewhat irrational, but you couldn't avoid it.

Nonetheless, you felt a hint of sadness and guilt within you. After all, the first mate was your favorite person on the ship, and you never used to argue.

“Hey, do you know where Beck is?" asked one man.

"No clue," another replied.

"Last time I saw him, he was busy in the galley," you heard someone else say.

You remained occupied, tending to your tasks throughout the day. As your hunger intensified while working, you contemplated pilfering something from the pantry.

You made your way to the galley, a familiar scent of tobacco wafting through the crack of the partially closed door. You reached for the knob to push it, but halted abruptly upon hearing the voice of the vice captain muttering grumpily from inside.

“... don't know why the fuckin’ hell I bother ...”.

Your hand released the doorknob, and you decided not to enter; you weren't going to confront an angry superior. You turned on your heel and made your way back to your duties, resigned.

Three hours later, your stomach growled like a sea monster from the Grand Line.

"Screw it, I'm going to eat that crappy cereal".

You headed to the galley again, finding nobody there. You opened the pantry, grabbed the cereal, a spoon, and a bowl, and sat at the table with a sigh. Pouring the cereal into the bowl, you took a closer look at it and to your surprise, there were no raisins. They had been removed and replaced by meticulously sliced chocolate bits.

You rose immediately and made your way onto the deck in search of the first mate, the spoon still in your hand.

“Beckman!!!”

You saw him standing at the prow, his expression grave as he concentrated on securing a line with a sailor's knot.

“I’m right’ere”, he answered crankily.

Glancing at his hands, you noticed that his fingers were speckled with tiny flecks of chocolate.

"Did you remove all the raisins from the cereal?!"

“... aye,” he mumbled without looking at you.

"By hand?"

“... aye,” his focus was still on the rope.

"And chopped bits of chocolate for me?"

“That I did,” he replied, still avoiding your gaze.

You rushed towards him, leaping into his arms, causing him to drop the rope, which fell to the ground as he caught you. Enveloping him with your arms, you started giving him little kisses all over his face.

“Forgive me, I am sorry, I shouldn't have shouted at you”.

“... it's a’right,” he responded, slightly embarrassed and trying to conceal a smile.

“... And… thank…” you said, unable to stop pecking his cheeks, “… you”.

“... anytime, darlin',” he hugged you tightly against him.

From the bowcastle, a group of men were watching you.

“Beck!!" One of them shouted, laughing, "she got you wrapped around her finger, huh?”

Without letting go of your embrace, Beckman shifted his gaze towards them.

“GET BACK TO FUCKIN' WORK!!”

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

Taglist: @i-am-vita @gingernut1314

[fictionallawyersmackdown]

So apparently it's her birthday too?? Y'all "Wexler Nation" motherfuckers are actually insane. /pos

[gengernoway]

                       dissofictional

dissofictional ;; a dissodic term for those who think they are fictional in any way. this can be because of atypical dysphoria, delusion, IRL attachments, psychosis, coping reasons or an alter, causing a disconnect from their actual status. This is involuntary and not a transid/transx esque label and it does not support harmful transitioning.

        tagging : @radiomogai @dissodic-archive

no id :((

[cumulo-stratus]

Flashback

Pairing: dad!Spencer Reid x gn!Reader

Summary: spencer discusses his thoughts around having kids with his spouse after putting their daughter Diana to bed.

Warnings: mentions of drug abuse/addiction, mentions of cannon typical violence, discussions of having kids(obviously), poor insecure Spencer 🥺🥺

A/N : this was written for the @cmgiftexchange!! I wrote this for @omgbigfluffwriting, I hope you enjoy it and that I did your prompt well!! Merry Christmas <33

wc: 1.7k

The sound of giggling filled the Reid household as you chased the mini-Reid through the kitchen and into the living area. When you finally caught Diana you slipped your hands under her arms and swung her up onto your hip with a cheer. When you both finally caught your breaths you made eye contact with your husband who had a scolding look on his face, but there was still a smile twitching at lips at the scene he had just witnessed. “You know she has to be in bed in- 15 minutes!” Spencer paused and looked down at his watch to emphasize his point about how close it was to Diana's bed time. You just sighed dramatically and addressed your daughter “Well, I think your dads right- we gotta get you to bed- it's a school night!”.

After much kid wrangling and only one bedtime story bribe, Diana was sound asleep and safe- leaving you and your husband for some alone time together. After so many years of being together, you and Spencer dont find there's a need to fill the silence you're often draped in. 

But that night the silence got Spencer thinking. Thinking about you, thinking about Diana, thinking about the life he's built for himself. If he was being honest with himself he never thought he would be here. A spouse and a child, a house. It was more than 23 years old Dr. Spencer Reid, new BAU agent could have possibly imagined. A spouse, let alone a child. 

Those thoughts were even more discouraged when he was kidnapped by Tobias Hankle. Spencer considered that one of his lowest points, he had been tortured and drugged- how could it not be. That's not even to mention the addiction that followed. He was in pieces, mentally and physically. Even after he got clean, Spencer often told himself that he wasn't worthy of children. That he would be worse than his own dad. And without you there to reassure him as you often did after you met, these beliefs solidified in his mind. 

“Y/n?” You looked over at Spencer from where you were lying across from him on the couch. Your questioning look was enough of an answer for Spencer so he continued, “did you always want kids? I used to think I didn't deserve kids”. You gave Spencer a look of pity, you hated when he had thoughts at his own expense. And he knew that. But Spencer couldn't help himself. 

“First of all, Diana loves you and you're the best father for her- full stop. Second of all, I always wanted kids, I think you did too”. Spencer nodded, he had always wanted kids- it was his mind that told him not to. 

“I didn't really start believing that kids were a possibility when I met you”. Spencer smiled warmly when he spoke, his eidetic memory not failing to remember any details from when you first met.

——

Spencer was sat his car that he rarely drove, going to the supermarket, which he rarely did. But it wasn't often that he spiraled into a depressive episode after seeing his girlfriend murdered in front of him, so he thought a change of pace might do him some good. Or more like penelope garcia thought it would do him some goo

That’s how he ended up strolling through the public park on a Tuesday afternoon in april. It was sunny and warm, a stark contrast to the sunken purple bags under Spencer's eyes and the wrinkly shirt that probably should’ve been washed before leaving the house. 

But you- in spencers eyes you were a beauty unto yourself, regardless of what you were wearing. That was one thing that hadn’t changed since he met you, and he swore never would.

To be honest, it was by luck that Spencer had run into you; you were with your nephew as babysitter for the day when he started bothering spencer. Needless to say you were very apologetic.

“Tom, no! leave that man alone! i'm so sorry sir, he doesn't mean it”

You were extremely apologetic, ushering your nephew away from the stranger. Spencer was flustered but understanding, red evident on his cheeks.

Skip to a few hours later and Spencer had spent the entire time with you. It was the best Spencer had felt in weeks, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. 

That night he couldn't stop thinking about everything that had happened; walking around with you, talking with you, meeting your nephew and sister. Spending time with your nephew, it got him thinking. Spencer had tucked away the idea of having kids far into a little nook into his mind, and spending time with Tom dredged it up from the depths of his brain. 

Despite still reeling with the death of his girlfriend, Spencer still couldn't get the thought of having kids and being a dad out of his head. It nagged at him all the time, and the thoughts got loud when he was with you. Picturing you as a parent during your coffee dates. 

Although Spencer Reid has an IQ of 187, and an eidetic memory, it still took him weeks to realize why he couldn’t get the thought of children out of his head; because he wanted to be a dad. He wanted to care for someone, knowing that they rely on him. 

——

“Spencer? Spence?” 

Spencer is pulled from his thoughts of when the couple first met by your soft voice. You had a small look of concern on your face at your husband's lack of awareness of the current reality. Spencer hummed in response to ease your worries. “What's got you with that Spencer Reid Far Off Look ™ in your eyes huh?” you asked. Spencer chuckles, and responds, “Just thinking about when we first met… after Maeve died- it's what got me thinking about having kids you know-”. it's your turn to chuckle now, remembering the embarrassment of having to usher away your nephew. Though your eyes held a sympathetic look at the mention of maeve, it would always be a bit of a sensitive subject. 

“Ya, we have tom to thank for that. But I didn't know that's when you started thinking of kids- I thought it was later, when you first talked to me about it”.

——

It was 1:03 am, and Spencer was still awake, to be fair he had just gotten back from a bad case. It was always bad when it involved kids, Spencer couldn't get the face of the little girl they couldn't save in time out of his head. Thoughts raced through his head, but he would never tell you about them- after all you had only been together for a couple months. Spencer couldn't risk being that vulnerable with you.

So here he was, tossing and turning at one am over a case he couldn't get out of his head- trying not to wake up the sleeping figure beside him. He couldn't stop thinking about if that little girl had been his little girl. What would he do then? Spencer didn’t know if he could handle having another human rely on him so heavily- what if he let them down. What if he became like his own father, something he swore he would never do. 

In all of Spencer's spiraling thoughts he hadn’t noticed that you had woken up from the constant shifting of the bed, which was caused by his  incessant tossing and turning in bed. You noticed the look in Spencer's eyes was one you knew well, it was a look that said the gears were turning a little too fast in that big beautiful brain of his. 

But before you could say anything, Spencer got to it first. “Would I- would I be a good dad?” You were caught off guard by Spencer's question, not expecting him to bring that up. But you could tell Spencer had been thinking about it for a while, if the worry crease between his eyebrows was anything to go by.

“I think you’d be a great dad spence- your kind, your caring, you have an amazing compacité to be there for other people, i think especially if it was your kid..”

You speak in a quiet, comforting tone in order to release at least some of the anxiety your boyfriend is harboring. In an effort to punctuate your point you give Spencer a small squeeze on the arm, hoping it would provide at least a little bit of comfort.

Spencer offered a nod in response not quite knowing what to say to his partner's kindness. Instead of speaking Spencer just rolled from the other side of the bed into your warm embrace, which contrasted the cool breeze from the open window.

——

Spencer comes back from his thoughts by the sound of small feet pitter pattering on the hardwood floors. you don't comment on your husband's spacey-ness that evening, instead opting to sit up and find the source of the sound. 

Which you find out to be the small feet of Diana Reid, who had woken up from a bad dream and sought out the comfort of her parents. Her small frame struggled to climb onto the large bed, so Spencer lifted her up by her armpits and placed her between him and you.

“Cant sleep?”

You ask though the dark, soothingly running your fingers through her curly hair.

“ya.. i had a bad dream and couldn’t fall back asleep”

Her voice is small, the six year old still a bit embarrassed at needing to sleep in her parents bedroom, but Spencer's calming hand running up and down her back helped ease some of the embarrassment and helped her sink into her loving parents arms.

“That’s okay, you can always sleep in here with us if you want”

Spencer says as he kisses Diana's head, and the little girl is already falling asleep in the couple's arms. Both Spencer and you look down at your daughter, now fast asleep in between you, and it puts a smile on your faces. And you can't help but lean over and place a haste kiss on spencers lips and say;

“You know I told you you’d be a good dad”

you had a bit of a sly smirk on your face as Spencer chuckled, and he responded “I guess you were right huh”. And that's how the Reid family fell asleep, contented in each other's arms.

The End

[tokkias]

good intentions ship: natsu dragneel x lucy heartfilia summary: Repressing any lingering feelings he might have for Lucy should have been smooth sailing for Natsu. He’s been doing it successfully for years, that is, until one night where he’s given just a taste of what a relationship with her could be like. Suddenly, seeing other men make their move makes his heart hurt in a way that feels a little too much like loss. ao3

written for @vikingpoteto as part of the @allaboutnalu gift exchange! all of your prompts were sooo bangin but i ended up latching onto jealous natsu and sprinkled in a little bit of fake dating in there too! i hope you enjoy it! (i wasn't able to shoehorn bonvoyage in there but i did listen to it on repeat for like a month because of your though, so i hope that counts for something) thank you to @kaleighkarma for beta reading :]

Natsu never really liked stuffy parties like these. He never liked the dress codes that made him wear shirts with too-tight collars and jackets that restricted his arm movement. This was much more Lucy’s vibe, which was how he ended up here in the first place.

When her turn to choose their job rolled around, she had picked out something low-stakes—something hopefully not even he could screw up. They had been hired as security for some fancy charity gala, should trouble arise. Natsu knew from experience that these types of jobs never came with much action; it was simply a precautionary measure.

That’s why Lucy loved these jobs—they were low-risk but high-reward. Natsu, on the other hand, didn’t care so much about the reward so long as he got to kick some ass, which was never guaranteed on jobs like this one.

They’d been promised free food—something Natsu had taken full advantage of—but the guy manning the buffet had cut him off long ago, and now he was left to his own devices, roaming around the floor in hopes that something interesting might happen.

He wasn’t left waiting much longer before that something came in the form of someone grabbing his wrist, having him immediately turn on his foot with the intention of fighting off whoever was dumb enough to pick a fight with him. He was entirely ready to snatch his arm away and throw a punch, but he stopped in his tracks as he came face-to-face with Lucy. She didn’t give him any time to question as to why she had grabbed him, quickly pulling him to her side and into what seemed like a conversation between her and some party guest that he didn’t recognise.

“This is my boyfriend, Natsu,” she introduced, to his immediate confusion.

The B-word was not one Lucy ever threw around lightly. It was one Natsu heard frequently as a result of misunderstandings—some people would simply see him and Lucy together and come to their own conclusions. Though it wasn’t ever something he cared about, Lucy had always adamantly corrected them over it.

Natsu never really got why.

He didn’t care what other people thought of their relationship, much less strangers they might never meet again. Though many thought him oblivious, he was well aware of the whispers that followed them around the guild, speculating on the nature of their relationship. To be honest, he didn’t really care what they thought about it either. People could speculate all they wanted, but at the end of the day, his relationship with Lucy—whether they were friends or something more—was between them and no one else.

He could smell the alcohol on his breath, and he could see the way his gaze trailed down the low-cut dress that exposed her ample cleavage. His skeevy behaviour and the way that Lucy clung to his side hinted towards something a little different than a sudden change of heart on her behalf.

Tossing an arm around her shoulder, Natsu pulled her into his side, a gesture she eagerly accepted by slipping her arm around him and resting her head gently on his chest.

“Hey,” Natsu greeted, an air of politeness only thinly veiling the venom that seeped into his voice.

If Lucy’s plan was to have him intimidate this guy, it was clearly working. His gaze had moved away from Lucy, now frantically looking anywhere but her. Natsu wasn’t the biggest guy, but that didn’t matter when he knew how to carry himself in a way that tended to intimidate people who weren’t down for a fight.

He puffed his chest and glared down at him as if to say, she’s mine, and I don’t like to share.

Based on the look of fear in his eyes, her plan was working.

“I, uh-” the man stuttered, “It’s uh, good to meet you.”

He was almost tempted to growl at the poor sod, but he felt bad enough as is.

“I gotta go,” he mumbled, all interest in Lucy suddenly fizzling away. “I’ll maybe see you later…”

He didn’t wait for a reply before he was scurrying off with his tail between his legs.

“Thanks,” she murmured. “Sorry for springing that on you, he was just creeping me out, and I thought maybe if he knew I was with you, he’d leave me alone.”

“It’s no problem,” he assured with a shrug, and really, it wasn’t.

Natsu had always promised to protect her; it didn’t matter if that was from the imminent threat of death or just some creepy guy at a party. Even as the creep scurred well away from them, Lucy didn’t detach herself from his side, instead dropping her arm from around him while still sticking close to him.

“Sorry,” she murmured. “Can you stay?”

She didn’t have to elaborate on why—he already knew—not that he needed a reason anyway. He’d never complain about sticking with Lucy.

“Yeah, ‘course,” he said. “You don’t hafta ask.”

“Thank you.”

She flashed him a sweet smile that made his heart throb in his chest, and that was thanks enough for him.

Though he had gone into this job hoping—practically praying—for something interesting to happen, itching for a fight, Natsu couldn’t find it in himself to be mad when the rest of the night ran smoothly.

Lucy spent the whole night by his side, practically attached to his arm. No man tried to bother her the rest of the night as she stayed by his side, holding onto his arm in a way that didn’t seem entirely platonic to any onlookers. When they found themselves in a lull, she would gently rest her head against his shoulder in soft rest.

He liked that soft, casual intimacy with her. He wished they got to do it more.

For once, he felt himself getting his ego boosted by something that wasn’t winning a fight. One might say it was from having a pretty girl on his arm, but he would say it was from having Lucy on his arm.

There was something nice about protecting Lucy, about knowing that everyone in this venue looked at her and knew who she belonged to. Not because he owned her, but because she chose him. She was the one who wanted to cling to his arm, to hold his hand, to stay by his side.

She was his, and he was hers.

Having Lucy at his side made even the most terribly boring conversations they found themselves dragged into bearable.

Lucy was always such a natural in environments like these. She was charming and charismatic, she knew all the right things to say to the types of people who attended charity galas. He felt almost invisible to anyone but her as she charmed them, which he found himself more than okay with. It gave him adequate time to zone out with his gaze in her direction.

At some point, she brought her hand up to rest on his chest as she let out a laugh, and he thought for a second that his heart might stop altogether.

He couldn’t quite remember when Lucy’s touch began to make him feel this way, but it was beginning to feel like a running theme these days. Just the brush of her skin against his own was enough to set the butterflies in his stomach on fire.

Maybe it had always been like that, and he just hadn’t noticed until now.

It was a good tingle—one that made him feel as though he could take on the world.

He found that was a common theme when it came to Lucy.

In an attempt to seek out more of that feeling, his hand slipped around her back, resting on her waist and pulling her even closer into his side. She did not protest; in fact, she leaned into it, and if it meant she would stay like that forever, Natsu wished the night would never end.

Maybe any other night he might have found himself whinging and complaining about the lack of action. He’d probably try to pick a fight with Gray or Erza afterward in an attempt to burn off some of that excess energy he’d come into the job with, but tonight he didn’t really feel like it—not when that meant having Lucy leave his arm.

The night had to end inevitably, and it finally did when they stepped out into the moonlight. Lucy’s arm left his now that they were safely solitary, and he had to stop himself from letting out a soft whine or reaching out for her again.

Though he had begun their job paying close attention to the time, he had stopped paying it any mind about halfway through the night. Judging by the way the moon was hung high up in the sky and the streets had been long dead to the night, it had to have been past midnight by now. They had stayed well past when everyone else had left, waiting out any stragglers who might be cause for trouble if they left too early.

When the last guest had left, their employer had graciously sent them on their way, leaving them free to enter the night and leave for home.

She took in a deep breath of air, her arms stretched out as she dropped her ladylike façade and returned back to the carefree Lucy he always knew, happy to bask out beneath the stars in which she was born from.

It wasn’t until she had sufficiently filled her lungs with the soft spring air that she finally turned back around to meet his gaze. Her brows furrowed together slightly, as though there were something wrong with his appearance. He didn’t think there was. He feared maybe he was staring too intently, and she had finally noticed.

He’d been doing that a lot lately.

“Are you okay? You’re looking a little bit red,” she observed.

She stepped towards him, and her hand came up to rest on his cheek, cradling his jaw. The tingly feeling was coming back in full force, which he was certain did not help with the redness she was noting.

He probably wouldn’t have realised he was blushing so hard had she not pointed it out to him.

“Uh, yeah, just, uh, hot?” He tried to brush off.

It wasn’t his finest excuse, but he simply pulled from the list of ones Cana used when her drunken flush got a little too obvious to those she was trying to convince she was sober.

Lucy, seemingly unconvinced, raised her eyebrows in mild surprise.

“You get hot?”

An understandable question given his general heatproof body and the way he made fun of her any time the temperature in Magnolia rose more than two degrees.

“It was stuffy in there,” he corrected.

Thankfully, Lucy didn’t seem to question his little slip-up, and her attention turned back to the stars.

“Then the fresh air will do you some good,” she mused.

He had a feeling that fresh air would not help his predicament so long as she lingered near. He just hoped that she wouldn’t notice, lest he have to try to find the words to verbalise his current predicament.

A request specifically for their team had brought them a fair ways out of Magnolia for the weekend. Though the job had been quick, finished before evening fell, the distance from their hometown meant they would find themselves staying the night in

The small size of the tavern they had found themselves in didn’t lend itself well to brawling (not that that had ever stopped them before), but seeing as Natsu had exhausted his energy on the job today, he was content to kick ass in pool instead.

He leaned over the table, his gaze intensely focused on the cue ball at the end of his stick. With a swift pull-back, Natsu thrust his stick against the cueball and sent it flying across the table, where it met another with a loud clack before it rolled into one of the corner pockets.

“Yes!” Natsu cheered, pumping his fist in the air to celebrate his victory.

Gray was decidedly less impressed.

“That was my ball, dipshit,” he jeered. “I’m solid, you’re stripes.”

“Who cares? I got the ball in the pocket, didn’t I?” Natsu shrugged.

“I’m starting to think you don’t know how to play pool.”

“The point of the game is to get the white ball into the hole—all the other balls are just obstacles,” Erza declared.

“What? That’s not how you play the game at all.”

Whatever fight was about to break out between them was cut short on Natsu’s end as his attention was drawn away by the sight of Lucy sitting at the bar. She had opted not to join them because she claimed they were “too competitive” and “didn’t know the rules.”.

When they had left to play, Lucy had been on her own, but now it seemed as though someone else had made themselves comfortable on the seat that he had occupied not so long ago. There was a drink in her hand that she definitely hadn’t had before, most likely ordered and paid for by the man sitting next to her.

Her fingers played with the straw in her drink as she listened idly to whatever it was that he was saying to her. She smiled politely but otherwise didn’t seem terribly interested in what he had to say.

He couldn’t make their conversation out over the rest of the idle noise in the bar, but if he wanted to, he could tune his ears in. Not that he had to; he already had a pretty keen idea of what was going on based on the way his hand came to rest on her thigh.

He was getting much too close for Natsu’s liking.

Placing his stick back on the table, he left Gray and Erza to finish the game without him and made his way over to Lucy, prowling like a predator stalking his prey.

He tossed his arm around Lucy’s shoulder as casually as he always had and plastered a grin across his face as genuinely as he could, given the weird feeling that was bubbling up in his stomach.

“Hey Lucy!” He greeted with all the familiarity in the world.

“Natsu?”

She looked up at him with surprise, evidently taken off guard by his sudden action. She opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by the man sitting beside her.

“Who are you?”

He was hoping that he’d quickly get the hint and quietly stalk away, leaving Natsu to not have to fend for her attention. That was fine. He knew exactly what to say that would get him to leave.

“I’m her boyfriend,” he declared, and Lucy seemed to cringe at his words.

“You didn’t mention you had a boyfriend,” the other man said, as though Natsu’s introduction threw a wrench in his plan.

Based on the way Lucy stuttered to save face, it had seemingly thrown one in hers too.

“I- I don’t- he’s not-!”

Lucy scrambled for the words to try and convince the stranger otherwise, but by then it was too late.

The way he retreated after finding out about her so-called “boyfriend” confirmed what Natsu already knew. He was very clearly chatting her up with some sort of romantic or sexual intent.

A look of glowing pride overtook Natsu as he watched the man leave, a sentiment that Lucy did not share.

The night out didn’t last much longer after that, with Lucy declaring that she wanted to go back to their motel and the rest of the group following suit.

Lucy trailed a few feet behind them, an air of bad energy radiating off of her, which Natsu quickly picked up on. He hung back, waiting for Lucy to catch up as Gray and Erza moved on. Even as her steps moved in tandem with his, she didn’t look at him; her gaze trained at the path ahead of them, making it obvious she was deliberately avoiding looking at him.

“What? Why are you mad?”

“Because you interrupted my conversation and you scared that nice man off,” she huffed.

The two had stopped walking, the others leaving them behind as they stood on the side of the street, lit by nothing more than moonlight and flickering lamp posts. In that moment, all Natsu could do was blankly stare at her in surprise.

“I can stand up for myself, you know,” Lucy said, arms crossed over her chest in disdain. “I only need your help with drunk or creepy guys.”

“He was creepy,” Natsu defended.

Any guy who got that close to her who wasn’t him was a creep.

“If I want your help, I’ll get it on my own terms,” she huffed. “You can’t just make decisions for me based on what you think is best. That’s not fair.”

It didn’t really matter. They were a few hours out of Magnolia; she’d probably never see the poor sod again; there was no potential there for a relationship anyway. That’s what she was looking for—a serious relationship, someone to settle down with—or at least, that’s what she told him. That guy didn’t seem like the committed relationship type, so he was justified in scaring him off, right?

“His hand was on your thigh,” he said, as though that absolved him of any wrongdoing in that moment.

"Well, maybe I like it when some men give me attention,” she said. “Maybe I don’t like it when my friend makes me look like a cheater.”

He did feel a little guilty in that regard. He didn’t want to make others think poorly of Lucy, but sometimes you have to make tough decisions to protect those you love, right?

He didn’t get it. She didn’t seem interested, but she wasn’t turning him down either. She claimed she liked the attention, but he could give her plenty of attention if that’s what she wanted.

Why did she want his help then but not now?

Lucy had already walked off, leaving him behind as she caught up with the others while he was left behind to try and put the pieces back together.

Drinks flowed freely, and music pumped through the air as a rowdy crowd gathered in the guild to celebrate… something. A birthday? A guild milestone? Natsu wasn’t quite sure, nor did he care much—a sentiment that was surely shared by almost everyone else taking the night to party.

Guild parties like this weren’t often open to non-members, but Cana had plenty of drinking buddies from out town who would often swing by for a night of . Though none of them were much for letting in outsiders, Cana’s guests tended to behave themselves—or perhaps more accurately, behaved better than the guild regulars. They were there to drink and party; any property damage was usually done by those who already had a reputation for such.

It didn’t take long for a fight to break out in one part of the guild. Gajeel’s fist hit Natsu’s cheek, sending him flying to the ground, breaking a chair or two in the process. With a grin overtaking his expression, Natsu scrambled to his feet and pulled back his fist, ready to retaliate, but the fight was promptly cut short by an unimpressed Erza, who held Natsu back by the collar of his shirt. He was practically tossed to the side with an angry glare as a warning, leaving him to scurry off with a dejected huff.

If he couldn’t get his energy out, he would at least take this chance for a drink and some good company, but there was one person in particular he wanted to be with tonight.

Lucy. He wanted Lucy.

A quick scan of the bar made it clear she was not there, so Natsu clambered up onto an empty table to give him a better vantage point as he scanned the dancefloor. It didn’t take long for him to spot her blonde hair, given away by the familiar blue bow that tied her hair to the side. He found her dancing with one of Cana’s so-called drinking buddies.

Their bodies were close—much too close for Natsu’s liking. While maybe he could have put their close proximity down to the crowd of people that cluttered the dance floor, what he couldn’t seem to justify was the way his hands made their way onto her hips, trailing up to her waist, where they came to rest. Lucy did not protest—in fact, her arms came to rest over his shoulders, pulling him closer, their chests resting against one another.

If he had a drink in his hand, he was certain the glass would have shattered right then and there.

Instinctually, he wanted to go over there to make his presence known, to watch that boy and every other man in the room scatter, to make them avoid so much as looking at Lucy wrong for the rest of the night. It would be so easy to start another fight, to “accidentally” let him get caught up in it, to singe off every hair on his head and leave him trailing off with his tail between his legs. Just as he was about to put his plan into action, he hesitated for a moment as Lucy’s words rang in the back of his head.

“You can’t just make decisions for me based on what you think is best. That’s not fair.”

He remembered how angry she had been the last time he had chosen to interfere. Though it had dissipated quickly, the bitterness lasting no longer than the night they spent out of town, he still didn’t enjoy having that sentiment directed towards him. That night, she had hardly been interested when he stepped in, but tonight she seemed to be actively enjoying herself.

It made him feel nauseous, but he couldn’t place his finger on why.

He felt some sort of urge or desire to be there with her, to be him. He didn’t know why. He hated dancing; he only came to these parties for fights, booze, and food, but somehow he thought maybe dancing would suck less if he was doing it with Lucy.

It didn’t matter if it did or didn’t. He wouldn’t be finding out tonight, considering she had found herself rather preoccupied at the moment. She could have her fun, and he wouldn’t stop her, but he knew that if he stayed any longer, he would either get sick or get violent; neither option appealing at the moment.

He would have preferred to leave without much confrontation, but he was unable to slip past Gray on his way out.

“Hey, where are you going?” He called out.

“Home,” Natsu simply replied.

“What? You can’t leave without Lucy.”

Can’t was a strong word. He usually wouldn’t. Most other nights, he’d walk her home to her apartment (or, on nights where she’d had a bit much to drink, carry her to her apartment). There was no spoken obligation; it was more just a ritual they did, which had apparently been picked up by those around them. Gray clearly knew of their unspoken agreement, but he didn’t stop him on his way out.

Lucy was mad. This was not information he had obtained firsthand, but rather had been relayed to him by many, many sources. Pretty much everyone at the guild knew what happened that night and were more than happy to let him know that he was being a dick. He didn’t care much about their opinions. This was not the first time his guildmates had held that thought of him, and it would not be the last either.

He couldn’t intervene; he couldn’t fight the guy, but he couldn’t leave quietly without being labelled the bad guy. Was he supposed to just sit there and take it? To watch it and let his feelings get hurt?

The confrontation was inevitable. He knew he couldn’t avoid Lucy forever, but that sure wasn’t going to stop him from trying. He probably could have drawn the chase out longer had his wallet not begun to run dry of food money. Natsu was perfectly content to stay in his little space in the woods, to keep to himself, to train, to eat, but he still had to come to the guild to take a job, and it was at that very job board that he found himself cornered.

“Are you done giving me the silent treatment?” Came her voice from behind him.

Natsu didn’t turn around to face her as he replied, his gaze still fixated on the request he had in his hand.

“I’m not giving you the silent treatment.”

It wasn’t technically a lie—he couldn’t be giving her the silent treatment if he was just avoiding her altogether.

“Okay, then what do you have to say for yourself?”

For the first time since her arrival, Natsu looked up from his job request and at her. She was looking at him with a stern expression, her arms crossed over her chest.

He was still so mad. He wasn’t really sure who or what he was mad at. He certainly wasn’t mad at her. The guy at the party maybe, but not Lucy—never Lucy.

He was mad at the situation. He was mad that other guys had the audacity to look, to touch, to flirt.

There was still something simmering below the surface—some feeling of resentment that still lingered. He was never good at regulating his emotions, much less his anger. Part of him wanted to lash out at someone, something—anything really—but he feared what would happen if he gave in to those thoughts.

Lucy was already upset with him enough; if he let his resentful thoughts slip, he might have a bigger issue on his hands, so instead he met her with a single-word answer.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? Seriously?” She exclaimed. “You can’t just leave me alone at a party, ignore me for a week, and then say nothing.”

“I don’t have anything to say,” he shrugged.

“Not even a sorry?”

“Okay, I’m sorry.”

He was sorry. Sort of. He didn’t like making Lucy upset; he certainly didn’t like making her upset with him, but there was a certain amount of self-preservation that led to his decision.

His feelings for Lucy were no longer platonic—they probably hadn’t been for a while now.

He wanted a relationship with her. It was something he’d wanted subconsciously for maybe years now, but he hadn’t really actively considered it until he was given the chance to play pretend for one night when he realised how easy loving Lucy came to him.

Now that the idea had been planted in his mind, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. His brain was plagued with thoughts of cheesy shit, like taking her on dates and holding her hand—all the dumb stuff he swore up and down that he would never care about. It made his chest tighten with a feeling that he could only describe as yearning.

He wanted that with her, wanted to shower her in the affections and attentions that she desired, to make her laugh and smile, and to know that he was the reason for her joy.

There weren’t many things that Natsu was afraid of, but he was afraid of change. Because what if change meant they could never go back to the way things were? He liked what they had—their friendship, their easy companionship. If any of that were to be put at risk by taking a step in a new direction, then he would gladly let things stay just the way they were.

And yet, watching other guys have the courage to do what he was too afraid to hurt in a way that felt a little too much like loss.

Lucy let out a dissatisfied huff at his apology.

“What is up with you? You’ve been avoiding me all week and now you won’t even look me in the eye to apologise.”

Though he would have loved to steer clear of this topic entirely, Lucy was looking up at him with an expectant gaze, waiting to hear some sort of justification or explanation. Natsu, on the other hand, was unfortunately acutely aware of everyone else in the guild hall. This wasn’t where he wanted to have this conversation, if they had to have it at all.

If he got his feelings rejected by Lucy just like he foresaw, he didn’t want it to be in front of all the people he knew would use that as ammunition against him. Gray would never let him live it down.

“Can we talk about this later?”

“What? Why?”

It clearly had not occurred to her that there were people watching until now, when she followed his gaze that flicked behind her. The moment Lucy looked behind her, everyone who had been watching seemed to scatter, trying their best to look busy as though they had never been watching in the first place.

“Oh,” she let out, her conviction dropping just a little.

At the very least, it seemed as though she didn’t want to cause a scene in the middle of the guild hall.

“Okay,” she conceded. “We can talk at my apartment if you want.”

“No,” Natsu shook his head.

Lucy’s apartment had always been such a place of comfort for him, something of a second home. While maybe comfort would be something he would need after the fact, he knew their conversation would forever linger in the air, etched into the wallpaper, coming back to haunt him every time he stepped foot into that room.

He needed them to be on some even playing field, a space that he knew wouldn’t be tainted by whatever may transpire today. Lucky for him, he felt as though he knew the exact right place.

“Can you meet me by the river?” He softly suggested.

“The one by your house?” She asked, an air of reluctance lingering over her.

“Yeah.”

A beat of silence fell upon them as she met him with a look of contemplation. The silence didn’t last for much longer before Lucy finally yielded.

“Okay,” she agreed and Natsu was happy to take at least one small victory before the trajectory of their relationship changed entirely.

The gentle rush of the river soothed Natsu as he sat on the bank, his arms perched on his knees as he looked out at the water. He’d been sitting there for a while before the time they had agreed to meet, taking a few moments to gather his thoughts.

He’d been trying his best to spend the last week thinking of practically anything other than Lucy, pushing away any and all thoughts about her, the bar, the party, the other men who looked at her with desire in their eyes. He could have gone on much longer repressing those thoughts, pushing them deep down into the deepest depths of his mind, somewhere they wouldn’t be found, even by him. He was rather good at avoiding things like that, but he knew all that would serve to do was delay the inevitable revelation.

The fact that he had put off truly considering his feelings for Lucy this long was almost a miracle but now that they had risen to the surface he couldn’t ignore them any longer. Especially not when they made it hard to look at his best friend the same way.

He tried to relax himself, to not tense up in his shoulders when he heard her approaching from behind. He could tell it was her by the pace of her footsteps, differentiating herself from the animals that scurried past and emphasised by the comforting waft of her scent lingering in the air.

He didn’t look up to meet her eyes when he asked, “Are you still mad at me?”

“Yes,” she bluntly replied.

Though Lucy tended to be easy to forgive, she was also a little stubborn from time to time. He liked that about her, even if right now it was coming back to bite him in the ass.

“But I’m not as mad,” she reassured as she sat down next to him.

Her words were reaffirmed when he glanced over at her and found that, despite her earlier anger and frustration, she still smiled at him. The sight of her lips quirking up in the corners made his heart tighten in his chest, as it had been known to do around Lucy as of late.

She was so cute that it almost hurt to look for too long, so he had to pull his gaze away.

“You wanted to talk?”

Lucy wasn’t stupid—quite the opposite, actually. She was rather perceptive when it came to people’s emotions, and she had obviously picked up that whatever was bothering him went deeper than merely walking out on her that night. Whether she had figured out why exactly it bothered him so much, he wasn’t entirely sure yet.

Her words were met with silence once more as he looked out to the river, not exactly sure where to start.

“Come on, Natsu, what’s bothering you?”

She reached out to his hand, taking it in her own in a gentle attempt to soothe him. Their fingers intertwined, and he got to feel the comforting weight of her hand and the soft skin of her palm against his own. Somehow, even in the middle of such turmoil between them, she found it in herself to feel compassion and concern for him.

"Please, Natsu, I don’t like it when we fight.”

He didn’t like it when they fought either, although they never usually reached this point. They tended to argue about petty, trivial things, of which they would resolve without much hassle. Even after the night at the bar, when she had been so furious at him, things had blown over quickly. Their fights were never over dumb things like romance or feelings. He was hardly able to navigate difficult feelings like this on his own; the fact that they concerned Lucy only served to make it that much harder.

He was treading a fine line between trying to express what he was feeling and not irrevocably ruining his relationship with her forever.

He opened his mouth to speak, but whatever words he could manage to conjure up got caught in his throat. He had to pull his gaze away from Lucy if he wanted even a chance to pull himself together.

 “It’s just that… I don’t like it when other guys flirt with you,” he managed to get out.

If there had been some expectation she had of what he was going to say to her, it was clear from the expression on her face that it was not that.

"I don’t think I understand,” she said. “You don’t like it when guys flirt with me?” She repeated, looking at him for assurance.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

It was a simple question that should have had a simple answer, but like all of this stupid feeling stuff, what was going on inside of him was a lot more complicated than that.

“Because I want to do that with you,” he said in all but a murmur.

Lucy looked at him with blank expression as she tried to process what he had just told her, her head cocked slightly to the side.

“You want to flirt with me?”

“No, well, yeah, but-” He struggled to find the right words to convey how he felt.

Did he want to flirt with her? People seemed to perceive their banter as flirting all the time, but it wasn’t anything like the flirty looks and playful touches that other men gave her. That wasn’t what he wanted; he liked what they had. Maybe what he wanted was just more of what they already had, but he struggled to put that into words.

“I dunno,” he shrugged. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” she softly said, running her thumb along the back of his hand.

She seemed to be taking this whole confessing-his-love-for-her thing in stride, not pulling away even as he haphazardly fumbled together his thoughts.

She regarded him with a kind smile, an entire juxtaposition to the way she had been looking at him earlier in the day. Of course she did. She was Lucy, kind, compassionate, ever-forgiving, even when he was being a bit of a sook. For a long time, he had considered these to be reasons why no man would ever be good enough for her. Now he wondered if he was good enough for her either.

“Natsu?” She said, her soft voice pulling him away from his own thoughts. “Can I try something?”

He wordlessly nodded at her, and before he could even begin to guess what she was about to do, she leaned in and closed the distance between them, her lips pressing against his own. It was only for a brief moment, little more than a few seconds—but he didn’t need any more than that to know that the way she felt against him made it feel like lava flowed through his veins.

It reminded him of the way he felt when her hand came to softly rest on his chest that night on the job.

That was what he wanted.

More of that.

Only he couldn’t seem to articulate that thought and instead sat there gaping at her, looking like a goddamned fool.

“I’m sorry, I thought that’s what you wanted,” she bashfully said, averting her eyes, cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

His heart was thrumming so loudly that he could hear it in his ears; her words almost drowned out by the thump, thump, thumping that was ringing around him. It took all of his strength and focus to make out what she was saying, and even more so to conjure up a response.

“It is.”

Well, he hadn’t exactly known that’s what he wanted—not until she had done it, but now that she had, he wanted it again, and again, and again. He wanted to have her, to hold her, to keep her on his arm, safe and away from harm or perverted eyes. He wanted to live out the fantasy that had begun the night she had called him her "boyfriend.”.

Finally, he was beginning to feel that fantasy in real time as her hands came to rest on his cheeks and their lips melded against each other once more.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Madeline Ashby’s ‘Glass Houses’

I'm coming to BURNING MAN! On TUESDAY (Aug 27) at 1PM, I'm giving a talk called "DISENSHITTIFY OR DIE!" at PALENQUE NORTE (7&E). On WEDNESDAY (Aug 28) at NOON, I'm doing a "Talking Caterpillar" Q&A at LIMINAL LABS (830&C).

Glass Houses – published today by Tor Books – is Madeline Ashby's terrifying technothriller: it's an internet-of-things haunted house story that perfectly captures (and skewers) toxic tech culture while also running a savage whodunnit plot that'll keep you guessing to the end:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9780765382924/glasshouses

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

"Chief Emotional Manager" is just a cutesy tech euphemism for "chief of staff." The only person whose emotions Kristen really manages is Sumter William, the boyish billionaire CEO and founder of Wuv. Sumter hired Kirsten because they share a key developmental trait: both were orphaned at an early age and had to raise themselves in a media spotlight.

Both Sumter and Kristen had been in the spotlight even before their parents' death, though. Sumter was the focus of the intense attention that the children of celebrity billionaires always come in for. Kristen, though, was thrust into the spotlight by her parents: her prepper cryptocurrency hustling father, and her tradwife mother, whose livestreams of Kristen's childhoods involved letting the audience vote everything from whether she'd get dessert after dinner to whether her mother should give her bangs.

Kristen's parents died the most Extremely Online death imaginable: a cryptocurrency price-spike sent her father's mining rigs into overdrive, and when they burst into flame, the IoT house system failed to alert him until it was too late. The fire left Kristen both alone and horribly burned, with scars over much of her body.

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

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

This is the setup for a haunted house story where the house seems to be an unknown billionaire prepper's IoT house of horrors. As the survivors of the crash suffer horrible injuries and deaths on the island, the remaining Wuvvies bolt themselves inside, setting up a locked-room whodunnit that runs in parallel.

This is a fantastic dramatic engine for Ashby's specialty: extremely pointed techno-criticism. The ensuing chapters, which flip back and forth between the story of Wuv's rise and rise to a top tech company, and the company's surviving staff being terrorized on a paradisaical tropical aisle, flesh out Ashby's speculation and the critique it embodies.

For example, there's the political culture of Ashby's future America. Wuv are a Canadian company, headquartered in Toronto, and we gradually come to understand that Canada is the beneficiary of an exodus of tech companies from the US following a kind of soft Christian Dominionist takeover (Kristen and Sumter often have to wrangle rules about whether women are allowed to enter the USA in the company of men they aren't married to and who aren't their brothers or fathers).

The flashbacks to this America are beautifully and subtly drawn, especially the scenes in Vegas, which manages to still be Vegas, even amidst a kind national, legally mandated Handmaid's Tale LARP. Ashby uses her futuristic speculation to illuminate the present, that standing wave where the past is becoming the future. Like everything in the shadows of a haunted house tale, this stuff will make the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.

I'm a big Madeline Ashby fan. I have the honor of having published her first story, when I was co-editing one of the Tesseracts anthologies of Canadian SF. I've read and really enjoyed every one of her books, but this one feels like a step-change in Ashby's career, a leveling up to something even more haunting and brilliant than her impressive back-catalog.

Madeline and I will be live at Chevalier's Books in LA on Aug 16 as part of her Glass Houses tour:

https://www.eventbrite.com/e/book-talk-madeline-ashbys-glass-houses-tickets-965286486867

Community voting for SXSW is live! If you wanna hear RIDA QADRI and me talk about how GIG WORKERS can DISENSHITTIFY their jobs with INTEROPERABILITY, VOTE FOR THIS ONE!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

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

[rivastraut]

Part 1 of the bday rivastraut gifts I got!!!! I love u all 🐴🥃 (part 2)

1. Laloverboy 🦂

2. Espeesso-ships 🛍️

3. Wildwood_elf on ig 🏜️

4. DAATURA on twt ⛅️

5. Cryptidhusband 🌅

6. Starfallsoup 🎀

7. Pipurikune on twt ♣️

8. Antonfreeman-bf 🩷

9-10. K_im_lost on ig 🌂