#sara's not watching the one about pirates

[cockmcstuffins]

i hope zoro’s backstory stays as lukewarm as humanly possible like i don’t care and i want to continue to not care about whoever he’s related to

[gallifreyanhotfive]

Do you have any recommendations on Dr. Who books/audio format things? I haven't watched the show in a bit because Moffat wasn't my thing and I can't seem to find the old stuff. (If you have any advice on where to find that too I would be very grateful) Following your blog has been a nice reminder of why I liked the show so much. Hope you have a good day!

Aw thank you! Depending on your location, you can find classic who episodes either on BBC iPlayer or Tubi (with ads).

As for books/audios, I'll try to keep this brief as I could write an essay on this.

For books, my favorite author is Kate Orman. Orman writes wonderfully, and my personal favorite is The Year of the Intelligent Tigers. I also really liked Goth Opera, Camera Obscure, History 101, Autumn Mist, Lungbarrow, Divided Loyalties, Somewhere Never etc etc etc etc (so many more but I'm forcing myself to stop here). You can often find free versions of basically every novel (at least all I've looked for) on the internet either as pdfs or epubs or whatever. The Internet Archive is particularly useful. Some examples:

And now for the audios! I personally have sold my soul to Big Finish. I have literally hundreds of recommendations. They do have some audios for free, such as those that came from the Paul Spragg Memorial Competition. You can also find a lot of them (up until Zagreus I think) for free on Spotify. There is also almost always a killer sale going on on the website on top of that too.

As for my recommendations, it's pretty dependent on what Doctor or companion you want to listen to. They even have series centered on UNIT, Romana's Gallifrey, Benny Summerfield, and a ton of other things (including a Masterful special that just had a bunch of Masters fucking around and finding out). I'll put in some of my favorites, one for each Doctor, from what I own (which is far from everything, but I do my best).

One: The Sontarans. It was the first time the Doctor had ever encountered the Sontarans, so he was unfamiliar with them. It takes place during Dalek Master Plan, so Steven and Sara are there.

Two: Lords of the Red Planet! It's a good Ice Warrior origin story and has Jamie and Zoe in it. :)

Three: Terror of the Master. I had pre-ordered it as soon as I heard about it. Three....Delgado Master....what more do you want from an audio? It's narrated by Jon Culshaw.

Four: The Wrath of the Iceni. It was a brilliant historical with Four and Leela and Boudica. Leela gets quite a lesson in this one, first being mad at Four for not helping Boudica and then at Boudica for being cruel.

Okay now we are getting into my favorite Doctors (5-8), so these decisions are going to get difficult.

Five: The Kingmaker! Shakespeare spikes Five's drink to get him absolutely wasted to sneak on the TARDIS, the TARDIS gets hiccups as a result, leading to Peri and Erimem being separated from the Doctor. Shenanigans ensue.

Six: Doctor Who and the Pirates. Six and Evelyn have a really meaningful discussion with one of her depressed students. The third part is a musical!

Seven: The Shadow of the Scourge. Benny Ace and Seven against 8th dimensional eldritch abominations. Seven gets turned into one of these insectoids, and body horror ensues.

Eight: Oh dear I can't choose. At the moment, probably the Great War from Dark Eyes 1. Eight meets Molly and is still grieving here. He is very much doomed by the narrative.

War: The Neverwhen. Lots of the War Doctor is good if you like Time War horror, but this one has a lot of time-as-a-weapon and is well written.

Nine: Battle Scars. A nice short story about that one family Nine saved from the Titanic mentioned in the episode Rose. Has a really fantastic girl in it and a Nine dripping in PTSD.

Ten: The Time Reaver. Ten and Donna! There's this gun that basically slows down time for a single person, so that a few minutes for everyone else is centuries for them. Ten is a self sacrificing dope.

Eleven: The Geronimo boxset is the best in my opinion, but I haven't been able to listen to many of these yet.

Twelve: Another one I haven't managed to buy a lot of yet, but Dead Media is amazing. It's written to sound like a podcast with adverts and everything and is set during his time at St. Luke's. And I cried at the end.

Anyway, I'll shut up now. This was so much fun! Thank you!

[bad-at-names-and-faces]

🍓

🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction?  So, the pre-history of my involvement in writing fanfiction basically starts when I was a grad student 20-some years ago, and one of the other grad students was writing a master's thesis on fan communities, so I got to learn a lot about early 21st century online fan culture from an academic perspective. During this time, on and off, I'd try to write novels, but always petered out after a bit, though I did "finish" nanowrimo in 2008, but never did anything with what I produced. At one point, I read the complete works of Jane Austen, and took advantage of my Netflix subscription to watch every single adaptation I could get my hands on. In terms of fandom spaces, around this time, I was also really into CSI, and was somewhat involved in a discussion board mostly talking about Grissom/Sara, but fanfiction wasn't really on my personal radar, and I was also starting to watch Downton Abbey and Mad Men and even though I had some (what I'd now call) post-canon headcanons, it never occurred to me to write those down or turn them into stories.

Anyhow, fast forward to 7 years ago or so, and my oldest had gotten obsessed with Frozen, and we had watched both Frozen and Frozen Fever. While babysitting a friend's kids at bedtime, the oldest had some decorations leftover from his birthday party, which were Frozen Fever themed, so I mentioned something about it, but he hadn't seen the short yet, so he asked me to tell the story. Anyhow, after the part with Hans being hit with the snowball, he asked me if Hans then went back to Arendelle. I said I didn't think so, but he insisted, so I started telling a story about Elsa sending him to the island of Elba after he tried taking over again. "And then he escapes?" Umm... well, it worked for Napoleon, so sure... then he returned to Arendelle, and then he got sent to St. Helena. "And he escaped there?" Um, sure, he got on a pirate ship, but first they sailed to the South Pacific, and he ended up ruling the island of Pitcairn...

So, after this, I realized that I had basically made a fanfiction, which I hadn't really thought about doing before, and it wasn't even for a character I liked, so I started thinking about Anna and Kristoff. I didn't really get very far because I wasn't involved in any fandom spaces yet, but fast forward to 2019, and I started seeing trailers for Frozen II, and by the fall, once I had burned through all the plausible spoilers on reddit, I had gotten on Tumblr and started reading kristanna fanfiction, and by November of that year, I had started writing a few different fics, one of which became The Young Diplomat, which I started posting around the end of the year. The rest is history (plus, um, writing was a very good hobby for the following year, let's be honest...)

Oh, and at some point I will rework my 2008 nanowrimo project into a kristanna modern coffeeshop AU. Because it really fits.

[winreyplace]

Random Fun Facts about Our Munbonds

Rune: His mom figured out he was prone to fire magic when she saw him reach into an oven with oven mitts and take out the pan without burning himself. Logan: Carries around a pewter-colored Tangle Jr. everywhere he goes. Tasha: Enjoys climbing up high or up walls and gargoyling to watch everyone. Meyleth: Was the first licensed female doctor in her town. Liam: Still has scars on his back from his old life that show up as birthmarks in this one. Howlett: Lost to Logan in an eating contest early on in his soulbond. Damien: His preferred material for writing down his cheesy poems is brown restaurant napkins. Diana: Was confused for a long time on what "yeet" meant. Artemis: Canonically, started writing romance novels when he was 10 years old under the penname "Violet Tsirblou". Butler: Canonically enjoys reading trashy romance novels. Unironically likes wearing corny Hawaiian shirts. Nick: Is really good at icing cookies. Sean: Really loves cheesecake. Still wears his royal signet ring. Trubel: Has the second biggest weapons collection in the family (Logan is the first). Jack: Still has his pirate hat and his compass. Has a bonsai tree called Methusaleh. Li: Did the "take care of a bag of flour for a week as a pretend baby" assignment in junior high. Cried when he accidentally "killed it". Theo: Is capable of carrying children as an intersex man. Mason: Is making a family beastiary because we keep getting supernaturals. Corey: Has a pocket dimension connected to all his hoodies that we aren't quite sure where it came from (we think a mix of his ghost rider powers and a gift from Liam?). When he turns invisible he can sometimes see lost spirits and objects and help them be found again. Pope: After temporarily being Liam's thrall, he now has the ability to manipulate by magic anything to do with cooking/food. Sara: Canonically was once a graphic designer. When we saved her from her canon death, the first thing our soulbond Pope gave her was a can of Pringles as a reference to their first canon interaction. Adam: Was very miffed that Melly didn't give him dragons in his canon story. Quentin: The only munbond we have that was an actual Tumblr user. Canonically first became sexually aware of himself while watching David Bowie in Labyrinth as a child. Eliot: Was forever destined to be a theater kid after doing a solo of Silent Night in a Christmas pageant play as a child. Charlton: Watched all of Lost, the TV show, via Eliot's memories. Margo: Wrote Fillory and Further fanfiction, including monster smut with Jane. Alice: Was and is a horse girl.

[badass-queer-couples-battle]

Do you mind if I ask your top 10 favorite characters (can be male or female) from all of the media that you loved (can be anime/manga, books, movies or tv series)? And why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before.....Thanks....

Oh boy, that's a difficult question given how many favourites I have but I'll do my best to answer!

(Under the cut though because I'm physically incapable of being brief about media I'm passionate about)

In no particular order:

James Flint (Black Sails) - a complex and almost poetic show with an equally complex and occasionally ruthless lead. He's a pirate captain on a revenge quest against England for taking his previous life and loved one away from him- I did not expect a show set in the 18th century to have a queer lead, much less one treated with so much respect and written as this multifaced and hard to judge morally. Just a warning though, the show gets dark and comes with a pretty extensive list of trigger warnings, so please take that into account if you're interested in watching!

Astrid Nielsen (Astrid et Raphaelle/Bright Minds/Astrid and Raphaelle [depending on translation]) - not a big crime drama guy, but she's one of a kind protagonist of a one of a kind show. A brilliant archivist and assistant investigator played by an equally great actress (Sara Mortensen). One of the only autistic leads out there and treated with such respect and attention to detail I cried several times watching just from how relatable Astrid is- I've never seen any representation like this before and certainly not for a female lead character. She's a genius but not emotionless (quite the opposite, in fact), never infantilised and her friendship with Raphaelle is beautifully written and takes into account their differences as a young ND woman new at her job and a neurotypical experienced detective. Astrid needs Raphaelle's perspective and help just as much as she needs hers, it's wonderful. This series does admittedly get queerbaity at times (imo) and Astrid faces occasional ableism, though it's always called out.

Kenzo Tenma (Monster manga/anime series) - hands down my favourite thriller out there and Dr. Tenma is a deeply honorable, determined and exceptionally kind man even despite his entire life falling apart, even towards the main villain who's a literal serial killer. I'd compare him to Aang (ATLA) in terms of how dedicated he is towards helping people and staying true to his morals. Incredible protagonist of an incredible story.

Donna Noble (Doctor Who) - she's so fun! The show was right to call her the most important woman in the history of creation, she's everything to me. Funny, lovable, strong, sarcastic, deeply human, I'm so glad she'll be back soon even if it seems like a brief guest starring type of deal.

Jolyne Cujoh (Jojo's bizzare adventure: Stone Ocean) - when I say I want complex female leads, not just strong ones, Jolyne is a good example of how they should be written. She's allowed to swear and be angry and imperfect, makes mistakes and deals with the consequences- all while being a great friend, caring daughter (despite daddy issues, her dad did admittedly kinda suck) and a smart fighter in the face of likely the most powerful villain in the series this far. There are uh... several problems the author has in terms of his writing of women, but Jolyne was so good.

Raine Whispers (The Owl House) - my beloved bard! They were such a good addition to the show both as Eda's ex (who she's still in love with) and a rebel witch! I loved their determination, they were smart as well (totally see why Eda fell for them so hard, same). Disney sucks for cutting the show short, I know they would have gotten more importance had the crew been allowed to make a full third season instead of several eps to wrap up the story :(

Xie Lian (Heaven Official's Blessing) - he gives me so many emotions... So deeply sad and yet so loving, one of the most compelling and complex protagonists I've seen- can't say too much without spoilers, but his backstory made me weep. Season 2 of the animated show just started, he's now a priority blorbo & both the animation studio and his actor do such a great job! Please do be warned, just like with Black Sails the trigger warning list for this series is LONG. Truly puts the 'dark' in dark fantasy.

Lee Dongsik (Beyond Evil) - a show that will emotionally punch you in the gut and kick you when you're down. He's a detective labeled as an insane weirdo and a potential murder suspect, but most of that is due to intense trauma and a (bad) coping mechanism. The show can and will make you question your view on every character and has so many twists, if you're a fan of crime dramas it's a must watch & Lee Dongsik is a super complex and fun to watch lead.

Edward Elric (Fullmetal Alchemist) - this show entered my head years ago and refuses to leave, and this boy is so well-written and such a good example of how to make an engaging and likeable action/fantasy lead! Even before I got into anime my best friend kept recommending me FMA as a series for everyone, she was right- it's universal and Ed is a big part of that, I love him so much.

Korra (Avatar: The legend of Korra) - this list couldn't be complete without one of my favourite animated series leads! Great character development, strong and determined, realistic, very cool overall! I had such a crush on her in high school. Can't not mention her relationship with Asami, they paved the way for more openly queer characters in animation and will forever be famous <3

[the-writer-nerd-ro]

If you want me to stop writing Sara Pena and Hunter Richardson you have to pay me 'cause I have my next two fics planned out and I doubt I'll stop there, either

Hunter Finally Plans The Perfect Date

Hunter Richardson was no longer sure if she could count. Mathematically, this was her third date with Sara Pena, unless you counted the party where they met as a date, then it was the fourth. But their first proper date had mainly consisted of Sara talking about her freelance party business, SaraPenaPartyForHire, so maybe this was only their second date.

But whatever it was, it absolutely had to be perfect.

This was the first time Sara Pena had ever visited her here. Hunter hadn't had a lot of girls visit the funeral home, where she lived in a little upstairs area that had a shower, a futon, and a microwave. Once her other dates had found out her idea of a romantic picnic was spreading out a quilt in the cemetery they had ended things.

Not Sara Pena, though.

“It’s so beautiful here.”

“You don’t think it’s spooky?” Hunter asked, impressed and amused.

“No, it’s lovely. There’s so much love here, all these people who were cared for enough to be buried and memorialized here, the flowers on the gravestones, the fresh cut grass… It’s so beautiful that so many people care so much for their loved ones. I think it would be nice to die knowing you were that cared for.”

“You are,” Hunter said without thinking.

“Hm?”

“I mean, I’m sure there are a lot of people who care about you. A lot of people who would leave flowers on your grave.”

Sara reached out and took Hunter’s hand. “At least one.”

Hunter flushed. “Yeah… At least one.”

“Thank you for planning this date, H.”

“Thank you for agreeing to it. Most girls don’t want to go on a date to the cemetery.”

“Why? It’s so romantic. It’s just like in my favorite rom-com."

“What?” Hunter had never seen a rom-com where the couple went on a graveside date.

“Oh! You’ve never seen Elizabethtown?”

“Sara, I doubt anyone has ever seen Elizabethtown.”

“That’s not true, it spawned the phrase manic pixie dream girl. Orlando Bloom is in it.”

“I don’t know who that is.”

“Oh my god, Hunter we have to watch it. And then all of the Pirates of The Caribbean movies.”

“I suppose you have a copy?”

“I have three copies, two at home and one on my phone. We can watch it when we get done eating.”

“I think it might rain,” Hunter commented, another mark against her perfect date.

“That’s okay, you live over there, right?” Sara asked, pointing at the funeral home.

“Uh, yeah,” Hunter said, seeming embarrassed.

“Well, you know what they say.”

“What do they say?”

“Home is where the funerals are.”

Hunter burst out laughing, “Yeah, okay, we can watch the movie at my place after we eat. I don’t want you walking home if it starts raining, anyways.”

“Oh, I like walking in the rain. But if you don’t want me to today, I won’t.”

They finished lunch, gathered up their things, and headed inside the funeral home to Hunter’s squat little loft. There was a camera on a peg by the door, as well as a corkboard with some of the pictures Hunter had taken and sketches she had drawn, mostly of the cemetery. In the corner, there was a card table with a microwave, a lawn chair, and a mini fridge.

Hunter sat down on the vintage-looking floral print futon and patted the seat next to her. Sara looked shocked.

“Sorry, I know it isn’t much. There’s a bathroom with a shower, though. And a closet.”

“How long have you lived here?” Sara asked, without an ounce of condescension.

Hunter shuffled her feet, mortified. “I took over this place from my parents when they died, and I only really had enough money to keep the business afloat or keep the house, and, well, I needed a job and like you said, people need to know their deceased loved ones are cared for, so I kept the business.”

Sara crashed onto the futon and flung her arms around Hunter.

“I was right about you,” Sara said.

“Yeah?”

“When we started dating I knew you were someone who cared so much about the people you loved. And I was so happy you chose me to be one of them. I still am.”

A sob grew in Hunter’s throat as she melted into Sara’s arms.

“A lot of people think I don’t care about anything. They think I don’t feel anything.”

“It sounds like a lot of people don’t deserve you, hun,” Sara said, rocking Hunter back and forth.

“I feel like I don’t deserve you,” Hunter admitted, glancing around at her living situation.

Sara must have noticed that. “Well, I can tell you for a fact we deserve each other. And hey… I don’t want you to stay buried here. How about you move into my apartment? It’s got windows. And a bathtub. And real kitchen.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s actually a pretty nice kitchen, too.”

“No, I mean you really want me to move in with you? We’ve only known each other for like, a month.”

“If you’re not ready, that’s okay, I’m not going to rush you. But I know exactly what I want, Hunter.”

“What do you want?” Hunter asked, intoxicatingly close to Sara’s lips. They hadn’t kissed before, they hadn’t even spent a night together, moving in was such a big, irrational, inviting step.

“I want to hold you like this every night, and wake up and start the day with you every morning.”

Sara didn’t seem to be worried about rushing things. She was always so sure of things, her confidence and passion were two of the things Hunter loved the most.

For a second, Hunter was only sure of one thing, and so she leaned in and kissed Sara Pena without another moment’s hesitation. Sara kissed back, emboldening Hunter even further.

“Okay, let’s do it.”

“We’ll hold off on the movie for now, I’ll help you pack and when the rain lets up we can head over to my place.” Sara stopped herself, a beaming smile taking over her face, “Our place.”

Those two words filled Hunter with the same confidence Sara must have felt. It didn’t matter if they’d been on three dates or three thousand, all that mattered was they were together. And so together they would be.

[indecentpause]

Find the Word Tag

tagged by @oh-no-another-idea to find january, sleep, ice, lantern, and blizzard! I’m going to have to go through all three of my wips because I know for certain I don’t have them all in one. thank you for the tag!

(everything I’m writing at the moment is in the summer, so I had to find some replacements for January and blizzard)

January month (from The Most Beautiful Puzzle):

You keep pushing out resumes and filling out applications. You’re not worried yet, but if you don’t find something within the month, you’re definitely going to be.

Then, late one night, while you’re in the living room watching old TV shows on Netflix, Josselin’s phone rings in his room. Weird. He usually turns the ringer off when he’s sleeping. Maybe an emergency contact? Is Frankie okay?

The ringing ends abruptly. Josselin’s door is cracked but not open, so you can’t hear anything he’s saying. Not that it’s your business.

You’ve gotten so much nosier since you moved in. Josselin’s rubbing off on you.

You go back to the TV, and the volume is so low and the apartment so quiet, when Josselin slams his door open, you jump what feels like ten feet out of your seat. Familiar zooms out of the room to hide under your bed, and Crackerjack and Grandpa both skitter under the couch.

You whirl toward him to ask what’s going on, but his face is pale and his eyes are wild, and the question shrivels on your lips.

“Get your laptop and phone. And your meds and wallet. I’ll get the cats. We have to go.”

sleep (from The Black & Blues):

Sara clears her throat. “We’re together. The three of us. But not like. In a sexual way. Or even a romantic way. We… we’re all aroace. And we just. It’s not like siblings but it’s closer than best friends. It’s hard to explain to someone who doesn’t get it.”

You push your coffee to the side and rest your elbows on the table.

“Explain it to me, then,” you say gently. “We have all night.”

So they do.

Apparently being ace means no sexual attraction, and being aro means no romantic attraction, and being aroace means both. You don’t really get it, but they’re happy, and they clearly care about each other, and it’s not your business anyway. But you can see why they were so hesitant to talk about it, especially when Sara says,

“Like, everyone expects you to grow up and get into a monogamous marriage and sleep with your spouse and pop out babies and like. I don’t want any of those things. I want an apartment or a house with my two guys, and we can foster cats and dogs, and take each other to the doctor or the airport, or pick each other up from work, or go grocery shopping together, or help each other file taxes, or volunteer with the park district.”

And you’ve never heard anything more reasonable than that. Just because you can’t imagine yourself without romance or sex for the rest of your life doesn’t mean that’s what everyone has to want.

ice (from The Black & Blues):

By the time you arrive at Danny’s door, you’re breathless and sobbing. You knock and ring the bell and knock again, and his dad answers the door. He has a newspaper curled in one hand. He always has the newspaper nearby. Important to keep up with current events, he says.

“Meara?” he asks, surprised but concerned. “What–?”

But then his eyes narrow and his hand shoots out and you flinch oh god he’s going to hit you too–

But he doesn’t. He gently puts his thumb under your chin and guides your head to turn to the side.

“Meara, what happened? No, come in, come inside, I will get you an ice pack for your face. And I will get Danesh.”

lantern (from The Princess and The Pirate):

Rakhee flinched back when the electric lamps went on, humming softly in the still, silent air. Savitri helped em up and said, “Captain Daoyun wants to get moving before the sun rises. It’s supposed to be hotter today than the past two days, and the next town is about a two hour walk. She wants to get there as early as possible. If we’re lucky, we can find a place to take a bath and sleep on something more comfortable for a few hours. If Captain Daoyun permits, maybe we can take the train the rest of the way to Hongnan.”

“I hope so,” Rakhee mumbled. E yawned and rubbed at eir eyes and nose with eir knuckles. “I’m tired of walking. And I miss sleeping in a bed.”

“Me too,” Savitri said. She pulled Rakhee into a gentle side-hug, then let go as Mama Bear handed her one of the lanterns.

blizzard cold (from The Most Beautiful Puzzle):

“All right,” you say. “So… what happens next?”

Josselin finishes off his food and stands, gathering all his trash. “Next, I get coffee, and then I take a closer look at these files.”

You shuffle the papers he left on the table around a little. Josselin’s footsteps stop in the kitchen, and he calls out, “Is this tea yours?”

You jump to your feet and join him in the kitchen. “Oh, yeah, thanks.” You remove and trash the teabag and take a sip as Josselin rummages through the fridge.

“Oh, it’s cold.” You slide past him to get to the microwave to heat it back up, and, once he grabs a can of espresso, you follow him back to the living room.

Tagging @drippingmoon @kaiusvnoir @magic-is-something-we-create to find the words lonely, clear, flower, and oil!

[cockmcstuffins]

the ending of one piece is just that they find shanks’s arm again after it got eaten in chapter one-ish and he was holding the final clue to the one piece in that particular hand the Whole Time revealing that oda really did plan it all along and then

[ashthehermit]

Legends of Tomorrow: A Retrospective 1.7

A lot of these episodes are melding together.  I think I was used to the later Legends, which changed mood drastically episode by episode.  Maybe humans weren't meant for bingeing television like this.  

The rooms on the Waverider are rather limited this early on.  There's the bridge, the brig, the cargo bay, the parlour.  But I don't think I've seen the kitchen yet.  I know that the joke about the single toilet will come about much later.  Right now, the Waverider seems like it isn't a place where people live.

MAROONED

We start with a Star Trek-esque cry for help.  Rip doesn't much care, but he knows the timeship in question will have a computer he can use to find Savage.  It's finally time for a space adventure.

It is also time for flashbacks on Rip's past.  Rip and Miranda are dressed like they are training to be in Starfleet.  There's no other sane reason to wear a miniskirt in a situation like this.  The Time Masters dress like Vulcans to my eye.

Jax quotes Star Wars, but precedes it by saying that he is quoting Star Wars, just in case we were wondering.  I think this is the first mention of this series' Time Pirates.  I never quite understood where they came from.  Are they people who stole from the Time Masters?  Are the legends effectively Time Pirates?  It feels like they are.  Rip did steal that ship against orders.  Apparently they're the natural enemies of the Time Masters.  That's all I've got.

'You're not Captain Kirk.  You're Picard.'

Ray and Kendra start talking about Star Trek, in case the reference was lost on me.  The episode isn't parody, and it isn't accurate enough to be a pastiche.  Again, it isn't quite sure what it wants to be.  Legends will reference Star Trek again in the future, but better.

Sara and Snart get trapped in the engine room (another room we've seen!), which allows for plenty of quality time.  The chemistry between these characters has been overlooked until now, but one of the better pairings of the show at the moment.  They talk about dying, which sounds dour, but they make it compelling enough.

Rip states that personal attachments are expressly forbidden, making the Time Masters the Jedi Council, as well as the Time Lords.  This season is really let down by how much it relies on other properties.  The later seasons continue this  Legends loves to reference other media.  The difference is that later down the line they become more parodical, more honest about where these ideas are coming from.  They might reference Indiana Jones, but it's in an episode that George Lucas is a character in.  This episode is Star Trek style, and this has been lampshaded, but it just isn't as fun.

'That'll teach him to mess with a nuclear physicist.'

Rip goes a little Sherlock, and offends Rory.  That isn't hard, but the admission that Rip was only ever interested in Snart was a good one.  It makes a lot of this make sense.  Rip wouldn't pick Rory.  He's got no talents that Rip can use.  It's part of the arc that sends Rory away from the team, so it's all fair enough.

Watching this though, reminds me that I do prefer the Savage-less episodes of season one.  There's more time for character moments, and more direct stakes.  Sara and Snart face the prospect of freezing to death.  Rip, Jax and Rory face the problem of maybe being killed by pirates.  There are no apocalyptic futures here.  Instead, Rip is devastated by the loss of his family again.  Sara and Snart get to cuddle up to stay warm, despite typically keeping people at arm's length.  Plus, Stein is funny wearing that beret.

'Time to choose a side I guess.  Chosen.'

It escalates to a punch up.  I enjoy this one a lot more than the previous.  There's a few corridor shots which are fun to look at.  And they're fighting Mick, which ups the stakes.  There's less of a sense that these are faceless goons.  At least, the pirate leader has been built up enough to be a secondary villain.

The message of the episode is that love is the highest power.  Which is pretty positive for this season of legends, and even a little philosophical.  Contrary to all that, Snart takes Rory to the woods to kill him.  This is, at least, what we have been building towards.  We are left to assume that Snart succeeds.

Now, we are going back to 1958, apparently before Savage encountered the legends at all.  I cannot remember how that will play out, but at the very least they are not moving chronologically anymore.  

[quillsjoke]

“I once poisoned a boy.„

Quiller is a artist persona for anonymous user.

Quill has a very close friendship with Dam and Xeph. Their little trio goes way back. They call themselves 5, 6 and 7, and even though they have parted ways, the trio still remain friends after everything.

When they invited their fourth member they became the Losers Club and are honorary loser’s together.

L is Quills platonic wife. The two quickly formed a strong bond. Even though they don’t speak daily or weekly; they have always shared updates on each others life. It’s one of Quills favourite people.

The Straw Hat Pirates or the Deadly Five, were their newest group, Quill had a rocky start with them, not sure where they would fit in, it didn’t take much time for them all to come along and chat until late late night time. Together with others they form 🍞Sexy Bread🍞, a discord community where the members chitchat about Doctor Who, Harry Potter, fictional characters and fandoms.

Some honourable mentions.

Raine; another one of Quills friends. Probably the one who’s the one that is the closest. The two cherishes each moment they are together.

Famlings; the group, the family, they were once close. Entering their adult years and being separated into different countries, they had a harder time finding time for spending time with watch other.

The Occulta Grotto; a selfless place where your friends respect you, even if they have different values and beliefs. A place that house very natural conversations, and gradually grows apart. It is safe and remain in a good place.

Mushroom Place; at first glance this was a very care free safe place to be. After Quill had been introduced to this place by Raine, they felt at home. This was the place people were seemingly safe, as Quill got deeper into the deepens of this field of mushrooms, they quickly found themselves in a position of helplessness. It didn’t feel as positive and safe as they had initially thought.

Gloom friends; this is a group of friends who met by chance, but their bond wasn’t strong enough to stand the test of time.

The Gay Mafia; a group that has been blended by a variety of different people. Where you’re carefree life can be valued. No one is scared to put the others in line when it’s needed. It’s safe, but has it’s ups and downs.

Quill is also into stories, such as The Magnus Archives, The Seven Husbands Of Evelyn Hugo, Marauders and Epic: the musical are among those of their current interests.

bahbye.

[atthedugouts]

Fictional World Tag Game

Thank you @transsexual-dandelions and @em-harlsnow for tagging me!

favorite fictional character from a movie? Sara Crewe from A Little Princess (1995). I love that movie so much. I think about her speech about how all girls are princesses daily and it really motivates me on how everyone should be treated with love and kindness regardless of who they are.

favorite fictional character from tv? I'm on such an X-Men kick with X-Men '97 that I'm going to go with my OG Gambit. I love watching the cartoon growing up and it's how I got into comics.

favorite fictional character of all time? Roy Harper from DC comics (not the CW show)

if you could be irl friends with any three fictional characters, who? Lorelai Gilmore so we can talk about pop culture and eat junk food. Chandler Bing so we can be sarcastic in a corner together. Maybe Ophelia from Hamlet just so I can tell her ain't worth it.

favorite fictional couple: So many! I'll just say currently Ian/Mickey and Daisy Duck/Donald Duck for the Disney nerd in me and Rouge/Gambit from X-Men.

okay, you can only choose one fictional character to get stranded on and island with: Green Arrow (again not from CW show). That's his origin story and we can rant about the government together.

one fictional world you would hate to be a part of: Hunger Games would suck.

one fictional world you would love to be a part of: Stars Hollow. My mom is from New England and every time I visit there I just think about how it's like Gilmore Girls. Her small town has Hospital Days where there's a fair to raise money for the local hospital and I honestly feel like I'm in the show.

your “HEAR ME OUT” fictional couple: Now my mind is on a Gilmore Girls track so I'm going to say Lorelai/Chris and Rory/Logan. My sister hates me for it.

and finally, something you’re looking forward to this week? I'm going to Disneyland tomorrow and after years of trying I finally got a reservation at Blue Bayou, the restaurant inside the pirates ride.

[yanmuffins]

SAFETY IN IGNORANCE.

Yandere! Prince! Gojo X fem! Isekai! Maid! Reader

SUMMARY: You’ve been transmigrated to the world of an otome game, taking the place of one of Prince Satoru's personal attendants, a measly side character with no name or relevance to the story.

As it turns out, life in the castle isn't so bad, and the certainty of food and shelter is welcome when finding a way home isn't ever guaranteed. Besides, your boss isn't as insufferable as you thought he would be. It could be worse. Isn't it nice, knowing you're safe?

WORD COUNT: 7.4k words (😮)

CONTENT/TRIGGER WARNINGS: NONCON (no intercourse), somnophilia, mentions of past s/a, mild yandere behavior (if you squint?), mild derealization, AU setting.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: please be aware my writing is quite rusty!! this is the first piece of writing that i finish IN YEARS and it's a fucking jjk darkfic. sigh. writing smutty scenes is also so awkward lmao, forgive me if it sucks severely. at least i hope you enjoy this little fucked up fic in have cooked up. it's hot and ready to be consumed! (๑>؂•̀๑)

-> MINORS DNI !

“TALES OF SPELLBINDING LOVE is a visual novel that takes place in a fantastical setting, where you can find your happily ever after with the character of your choice.”

It's been years – in this world, at least – but you still remember every word skimmed with dry, irritated eyes, as you stared at a bright screen, surrounded by the darkness of your own bedroom. It was another restless night among many, spent watching YouTube videos and reading pirated manga in questionable website, sipping on valerian tea.

So, like any other night, your adblocker dutifully served its purpose, shielding your browser from annoying, abusive, virulent ads.

Except for one.

“Enter the enchanting world of TALES OF SPELLBINDING LOVE through SARA, a kind-hearted peasant, as she meets all sorts of swoon-worthy suitors!”

You should have closed the page, sketchy as it was, but it had piqued your interest. It was a Friday night. You were sleepless. It was past midnight, tossing and turning in bed had done little to welcome slumber. Your home was tidy and organized from insomniac hours from nights before. You were bored.

“Play with a cast of handsome men, make the right choices and uncover exciting secret routes...”

Nothing about the web design told you the game was anything but a harmless dating simulator for an adult audience. Maybe it was the pastel color-scheme, with soft pinks, yellows, blues, purples and greens, or the elegant cursive font and colorful flowers adorning the page. In fact, other than the initial synopsis, there wasn't much to look at. No content warnings, nothing about the capture targets or the heroine you were supposed to be playing as, not even the usual information on how many endings or CGs you could get.

At the bottom of the page, “ENTER.” and “LEAVE?” buttons waited for a decision.

Maybe... you could give it a try? Hopefully it would entertain you until your eyelids finally grew heavy, allowing you to drift off before sunshine seeped through your window signaling dawn had arrived.

You clicked “ENTER.”.

... And here you are now, mending Prince Satoru's shirt before another hunting trip.

It's been ten years since you've come to this world. Your own body replaced that of a nameless background character with no narrative purpose, allowing you to exist as yourself in this entirely alien reality. You're not sure how much time has passed in your original world, whether you've been dead for a decade or simply unconscious for a couple of minutes, and you haven't gotten any closer to finding out.

You sigh, weary, looking down at the flax linen shirt laid over your lap, needle in hand. Simple, at first glance, a bit worn, but a nice piece of garment not everyone could afford to have in their wardrobe. One of its puffed sleeves now torn at the shoulder lining, an unfortunate result of it being caught by a tree branch during horse-riding. Nothing you couldn’t fix, however, skilled as you’d become over the years.

Ten years in this world.

Ten years working as Prince Satoru’s personal maid.

You got rewarded for that.

The luxurious pearl necklace that became a part of your distinguished blue uniform, accompanied by a gold pendant encrusted with gemstones shaped like the Gojo’s family crest. It was an honor given to faithful, dutiful servants to the crown, closest to the royal family.

Satoru and you were both eighteen when you’d first presented yourself as his new personal maid. This body, undoubtedly yours, seemed to have aged down a few years, most likely to match the age of your predecessor. They had, apparently, been working hard to better their lot in life, aiming for an often-vacant position at the prince’s small circle of personal attendants. You inherited the skills they’d nurtured, bettering them along the years, allowing you to secure your spot as long as you have.

That, and Prince Satoru Gojo’s character trivia really came in handy an absurd number of times.

There were worse fates out there, especially for a transmigrated person like you. Sure, maybe life as a privileged noblewoman would have been ideal, even more useful in searching for a way home, but being a personal servant to Prince Satoru, as… Eccentric as he was, gave you advantages compared to other peasants, even other castle servants. Plenty of food, fine fabrics, individual accommodations, not having to exhaust yourself scrubbing floors all day or sweating by the heat of the kitchen fires – besides, the Gojo heir wasn’t quite as terrible a boss once you got used to him.

You remember finding his route in-game quite boring, full of cliché tropes and little to no conflict. He was also kind of an overbearing asshole the entire time, unlikability salvaged only by his elven good looks.

But nothing could have prepared you to the otherworldly beauty he posed standing right in front of you, in the flesh, for the first time, glacial orbs eyeing you up and down. You admitted to yourself – although begrudgingly, as he was your least favorite character among the ones you’d played – that Satoru Gojo was as handsome as they come and had every right to be smug about it.

Smiling to yourself, you put aside the needle and thread to hold up the shirt with one hand, gently tracing over the repaired sleeve with the other. You tug at it to test its resistance, nodding absentmindedly when its stays in place. It’s good as new, just in time for his hunting trip. You get up, taking a moment to adjust your skirts and straighten your white linen apron and coif, neatly folding the shirt and draping it over your arm. According to your pocket watch, his attendants should be waking him up at any minute now.

You grab the doorknob, wondering when you’d become so accustomed to this life.

And then you’re heading towards the prince’s chambers.

Gojo’s head snaps in your direction as soon as he hears the door creak open, a lazy smile gracing his features. You bow to him, respectfully averting your eyes as an attendant removes his undertunic to reveal his naked form.

“Good morning, Your Highness.”

He doesn’t regard you immediately, arms raised as William, one of his attendants, quickly fetches the shirt from your arm and slips it over his head. It’s a morning ritual familiar to you by now, efficient movements shared between all three blue-clad servants in the room to make sure the prince will be properly dressed for his daily affairs.

Kai, your other colleague, hands you a black leather surcoat. It’s undoubtedly fit for royalty, handcrafted by the best tailor in the land; buttons of silver, western dragons embroidered on each side of its chest, facing each other, with gold thread some miller’s daughter had spun from straw – or so you’d heard. You feel his gaze upon you as you button up the overgarment, knowing exactly what he expects.

Gojo steps back when you’re done, doing a slow spin to show off his outfit.

“What flattery does this little doll have for me today?” He asks, “Do I look dashing?”

“Yes, my lord Prince, as always.” You respond, with a courtly nod of your head.

“What about my hair?”

“Soft like the finest silk in the land, fairer than the first snow of the season, Your Highness.”

“What about my lips?”

“Tender and pink like freshly bloomed petunias in springtime, Your Highness.”

“And my eyes? And my eyes?” Gojo goads you on, a boyish excitement to his voice, his face coming a bit too close for comfort as if pleading to look up at him.

Playfully, your eyes meet his, granting his unspoken wish, holding his gaze for nothing more than a few seconds, a simpering smile as you speak.

“So strikingly blue it would put a midday sky in a summer’s day to shame, Your Highness.”

He releases an exaggerated sigh before grabbing your face with both hands, squishing your cheeks – his touchiness hardly phased you anymore; harmless, albeit pestering –, head slightly cocked to the side and a pout on his lips.

“You tease.”

Kai, newer to the group, shoots an alarmed look towards William, who merely shrugs him off.

And just as quickly he releases you, storming out the door as you and your colleagues follow after him, hurrying along the hallway steps behind him like ducklings after their mother.

Gojo Satoru is exactly seven minutes late to meet his guests. Not his servant’s fault at all, of that, you are sure. You had checked your pocket watch while walking through the castle hallways, confirming he would be on time to meet his guests at the open area of the stables – that was, of course, before all the meaningless detours he took along the way. You’re not sure if he does it on purpose.

William had his weaponry arranged, waiting at the hands of a servant, while Kai had personally spoken to the Marshal to have his Highness’ horse ready, both having woken up earlier than usual to make the proper arrangements.

Naturally, they would follow him to the hunting trip, as part of his entourage, while you stayed behind and made sure all was perfect for their return.

Your arrangements included waking up as early as the kitchen staff, the sun barely peeking through the horizon, to revise the ingredients you’d requested in advance with the head cook, so a kitchen maid could go and fetch them from the forest or the market. You’d love to be able to traverse the markets or the woods freely, exploring, meeting new people, finding out new things about this world that could potentially lead to a way home — but alas, being a personal attendant to the prince meant tasks such as picking herbs at the woods or buying strawberries from a merchant were, per your colleague’s words, below you.

It's a nice day out. A faint breeze caresses your skin, cool enough to be refreshing, and the skies are clear and blue with not a cloud to be seen. The autumn sun shines gently upon the earth, sparing of its overbearing heat. Your presence isn’t exactly necessary, but Gojo has made a habit of you seeing him off and you wouldn’t miss an opportunity to be outside.

“Fashionably late as always, Satoru.” His grace, Geto Suguru, is the first one to speak up.

A swoon-worthy duke, with a storyline much too… disconcerting… for your taste. Though the number of times you’d spoken to Geto could be counted on your fingers, being in his presence still put you on edge. Not that he had ever done anything to you, but you’d accidentally met his eyes countless times, caught him staring at you with a gaze so invasive it made you feel like a criminal awaiting judgement.

“Late? Treason. A prince is always on time, Suguru.” Gojo replies with a nonchalant shrug, “You were the ones here early!”

Awaiting his arrival were a group of familiar young men. Most you had seen in-game through the extensive selection of capture targets, coming to meet them in-person over the years due to their ties with the prince. You had played some of their routes, but with the exception of Megumi – Gojo’s protégé – you hadn’t a reason to talk to them, merely exchanging a word or two or none at all when in their presence.

“Finally.”

Nanami Kento looks mildly inconvenienced as he speaks, tone flat, arms crossed over his broad chest and a visible scowl creasing his features. He was a retired knight, born a peasant, presently a Baron; a personal favorite of yours. You couldn’t help but steal a glance or two whenever he was around. You remember kicking your feet up in the air during his playthrough. Sometimes you still do.

Next to him stood Prince Yuji Itadori, too entertained by his own horse as he fed him a carrot. You have faint memories of playing his route, although you don’t remember finishing it. He was a sweetheart, from what you knew, periodically visiting from a neighboring kingdom to learn from Nanami and Satoru and cultivate friendly diplomatic relations. You’d cracked your head trying to recollect bits and pieces of his story, unsuccessfully. You had a pesky feeling it was relevant.

Fushiguro Megumi was last. Broody lost prince, currently hidden under Prince Satoru’s protection – you hadn’t played his route, but he was a constant side character in Gojo’s. He was still a child when you met him, shortly after Gojo brought him into the castle.

When Megumi notices you, there’s a smile; faint, barely noticeable, and he waves. You respond with a brief curtsy.

“Can we go?” Yuji protests, interrupting some petty squabble between Satoru and Suguru, “I hear there’s a huge wild boar running around causing ruckus around the village, I want to catch it!”

Mounted on his white steed, Gojo is a cliché as old as time; a trotting reminder of your being in a world that isn't your own. The anodyne sight of him looking down on you, pink lips softly curving upwards to gift you a kind smile as the sun shines from behind him is almost identical to one of the game’s CG’S. It shouldn’t – you’ve grown used to him, to living inside this game, material as your own world – but for a moment, and just a moment, the sight of a whimsical prince on a white horse wiggles an uncomfortable, yet familiar feeling of surrealness, unreality into your mind, making your stomach churn.

You ignore it. Mentally sweep it under the carpet of your subconscious. This is nothing new. You can spiral into an existential crisis over the absurd condition of your circumstances later, when you’re lying sleepless in bed staring at the ceiling.

You’ve run out valerian root, anyway.

“I am obliged to be away for an entire day!” He whines, words punctuated by dramatic sullenness to his body language.

You step closer to him, taking a respectful bow before offering him a pair of neatly-wrapped sunglasses, which he takes – a distinctive feature of his character.

“So, you must, Your Highness. Go, and may the mother of good luck be with you.”

Satoru extends an arm toward you, presenting his hand. You kiss it – your own lips touching soft, pristine skin; a needed reminded he was a person, made of flesh that could be touched and not pixels limited to a screen.

From your peripheral, Kai elbows William as discreetly as he can.

You return to the prince’s sleeping quarters immediately after their departure. Overseeing the chambermaids, you watch them change the bedding for a fresh set, correcting the pair on your favored arrangement of pillows, fussing as they dust around the priceless ornaments around the chamber, amiably warning them to be careful.

When they’re done, you move onwards to the kitchen.

There are people watching you as you march through the hallways. Spying little peepers full of envy or admiration, or both, and you know what they’re looking at – the telltale blue fabric of your dress, a color so inaccessible to many, and the necklace you bear from years of service. Despite your own wishes, it makes you an intimidating figure, as if you’re an extension of royalty. Being a personal attendant to the prince meant upholding that image, keeping yourself unapproachable, discouraged from socializing and making merry with anyone but servants considered to be on your level.

Still, you greet the kitchen staff with a smile, trying to be as cordial as you possibly can. You know all of them by name, from the head cook to the scullery maid, all exceptionally busy for tonight’s private feast. It’s not your job to review the selection of dishes to be served, but you do so anyway, even if superficially, reminding them to provide a non-alcoholic beverage for the prince. Attentively, you listen to the head cook as he showcases the ingredients for the pastries you requested, assuring of their quality.

It's a bit of a hollow feeling when you leave the hustle and bustle of the kitchen, knowing the rest of your day will be spent alone. Without Gojo, there’s nothing much to do. Without William and Kai, your social circle has been just about reduced to zero.

But you do know where you’ll be spending all of those long, unending hours.

Being a personal servant to Prince Satoru gave you advantages. Privileges, if you will.

When he asked you what you would like for your latest birthday, you made quite a bold request. It’s the newest addition to the key bunch hanging from your waist – full, unbridled access to the royal library. The thought of having an entire day to search through never-ending shelves, making notes and finding books that could possibly lead to finding a way home cheers you up a bit.

“Are you fornicating with the prince?”

You nearly choke on your drink when the question abruptly comes out of Kai’s mouth, unable to speak from the utter shock. William is at his side, chewing on a chicken leg, and can only stare wide-eyed at his colleague’s bluntness. It’s been a while since the hunting party returned, clear blue skies fading into shades of orange adorned by heavy, rumbling clouds. Outside, tree branches sway to the force of the wind, preparing to welcome a starless night of rain and cold. Gathered at the table on Prince Satoru’s solar room, the three of you were having dinner to replenish your energy before the feast while Gojo entertained his guests.

It was usually a casual moment to decompress. Not tonight, Kai had decided.

“What– No!” You retort, scandalized, “What could have given you that impression?!”

“What hasn’t given me that impression, you mean.”

“Kai–” William tries to interject, but you’re quicker to rejoinder.

“I am not… fornicating with anyone, especially not prince Satoru. There’s nothing like that between us. That’s… How he is. You’re just not used to him yet.”

“But–”

“I think we’re better off cutting this topic of conversation here.” William interrupts, slightest bit of panic in his voice, eager to deflect conflict, “I know you’re still adapting to your new position, Kai, and that’s why I’m sure (Y/N) will be kind enough to let this slide.”

William looks at you expectantly, almost pleading, and you scoff before crossing your arms over your chest. The mere notion seems ridiculous – you, doing the deed of darkness with one of the game’s capture targets, destined to fall in love with the heroine regardless of whether she decided to pursue him or not? It would be a disaster waiting to happen. You were nothing if not a professional, serving your boss to the best of your power, and all of Satoru’s affections stemmed from his own outlandish personality. That was all. Your dynamic could be less than orthodox, but it was platonic in its nature.

“Come now, we can’t afford not to get along. Kai, apologize to (Y/N). I have worked alongside her for ten long years, and if she says she’s not engaging in improper acts with the prince, then she’s not.”

Kai silently looks between the both of you, finally letting out a defeated sigh.

“It’s a reasonable question, seeing you two…” He insists, shifting uncomfortably on his seat, “But I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”

“It’s fine, I guess. No one has ever insinuated that before.”

“Not to your face, doll.” Kai shrugs, nonchalant.

You want to snap back at him, but in comes the realization that he’s not wrong. Perhaps it was living within your bubble, mostly limited to your coworkers and your boss, had made you clueless to people outside and what gossip ran about you. William and Benji, Kai’s predecessor, had accompanied you in serving Gojo for a decade; neither of them would ever dare question your relationship with the prince or the harmless liberties involved; they were accustomed to it. And, well, you were accustomed to the point you thought everyone else saw it as you did: normal. The sudden realization that not all would find Prince Satoru’s affections towards you something ordinary was a staggering concept in your mind – but it was so simple. So obvious.

Then again, it never occurred you to ask…

“Do you think it’s weird, William? Be honest.”

“I have no opinion of anything, ever.” William stated, crossing over his heart with his right hand, “But now that you mention it, Benji did confide in me, shortly before he was relieved from service. Said something about ‘inappropriate displays of affection towards a heedless maiden’, I believe?”

“Oh. Benji never said anything like that to me.”

“He wouldn’t. Between you and me, he had a soft spot for you, so I do believe that statement was a little biased.”

On your face, an expression of utter confusion. You never noticed any signs of Benji liking you romantically, but then again, you apparently don’t notice much around you. The chicken seems to have lost its taste when you bite into it, mind too preoccupied with the conversation you just had. Not that there’s any use reminiscing about Benji – the man having been released from service only a month prior, after prince Satoru arranged him a marriage to a marquis’ daughter.

Now that you think of it, he didn’t seem too pleased about the match. Or about leaving.

The stone-walled bathroom smelled of fresh flowers and citrus. Sliced oranges and grapefruits, calendulas, sunflowers, rose petals, mint leaves, forget-me-nots, floating in the steaming hot water that filled the circular, wooden bathtub. Night has long since arrived, and even with the shutters of the only window in the room closed you can still hear the heavy rain pouring against glass and the rattling of wood caused by unrelenting wind.

Despite that, the candles illuminating the room, as well as the small fire burning underneath a boiling pot of water, kept the room pleasantly warm.

On the other side of the door, William and Kai undress the prince. All had retired to their respective bedchambers by now, and it’s not long before the pair of attendants are dismissed for the night. Gojo is already disrobing by the time he enters the bathroom, excitedly blabbering about the hunting trip as he plops the velvet garment onto your waiting hands, stepping into the warm embrace of the thoughtfully drawn bath. Suddenly, the ceiling becomes particularly interesting.

He lets out a long, satisfied sigh.

“… Not that I’m complaining about tonight’s banquet, though. I’m just a bit disappointed, you know? All the fuss people were making over a silly boar, and it made a passable meal at best…”

You hang the robe. From a tray placed beside the fireplace you select a pink macaron, feeding it to him before you start to work a soapy sponge along his skin. It had been a deeply embarrassing experience at first, aiding him in his baths; with time, however, like many other things, it had faded into normalcy. Nothing but work, is what you tell yourself when you elevate one of his sinewy legs with your hand, sponge inching closer and closer to his groin. You steal a quick glance at him, half-listening to his words, seeing Gojo laid back, unashamed by your ministrations, playing with the petals of a soggy sunflower.

“Ah– Megumi! His aim is getting better. He’s gotten really good at shooting with a bow and arrow…”

You wash the soap off your hands when you’re finished with his body. You feed him a small tart, topped with vanilla cream, strawberries, and blueberries. Still, he prattles on, words muffled by his munching,

“… mmph… And Suguru is still being weird about that wife of his… Something-something ‘she’s different from before’ and refused to elaborate…”

He quiets down a bit once you retrieve a warm compress, placing it over his eyes, fingers moving to either side of his temples to massage them with gentle circular motions. He relishes a bit on the relief it brings after a day straining his eyes. As he relaxes further under your touch, you let your mind wander, recounting the frustratingly slow progress with your research.

Even with access to the great royal library, the sheer number of books on varying topics was discouraging enough to tempt an emotional breakdown. You scoured through shelves, gathering a collection of sorcerer biographies, spell books, history books, encyclopedias – anything that could hold the subtlest bit of information regarding transmigration. And still… Nothing. Your eyes still felt a bit dry, a lingering headache from reading within the ill-illuminated library. All you had at this point were your own theories – and that wasn’t saying much.

If only you could leave the castle for a bit. A frightening thought, of course, as you could count on a single hand the number of times you had seen the world beyond the castle walls, never straying too far from the place you now called home. All of those occasions you had been following Prince Satoru on some of his trips, mostly diplomatic, with no freedom to walk around and talk to people as you pleased.

Perhaps a vacation was all you needed. Your “parents” lived not too far, if you remembered correctly, on one of the neighboring villages subservient to the Gojo crown. A favored place for merchants to gather, fairly populated, maybe if you tried investigating–

“(Y/N)?? (Y/N)??” Gojo’s fingers are snapping in front of your face, his eyes still covered by the compress, “Are you listening to me?”

“Oh! I’m sorry, Your Highness. I think my mind just wandered for a bit…” You apologize, hurriedly forgoing his temples in favor of washing his hair, “What was it?”

He remains oddly silent as you pick up a smaller bucket of ambient-temperature water, delicately wetting his hair. You weren’t giving mere empty flattery earlier in the day; running your hands through his hair truly felt like touching the finest of silk.

“You know…” He starts, “I notice your mind tends to wander a lot, especially these days...”

There’s an edge to his tone, one you rarely hear him use.

“Your eyes seem to wander an awful lot, too, lately.”

Another pause. There's no silence in the room, just an uncomfortable absence of words; You hear the fire crackling. You hear the water boiling and bubbling, thinking for a moment you should check the temperature of his bath to see if it needs to be warmed. You hear the muffled sound of rain against glass. You hear wooden shutters rattling. There's a strange shift about the air, and you're confused, unsure of what he could mean.

He answers your unspoken question before the words have a chance to leave your mouth.

“I saw you stealing those little glances at Nanami.”

You stand, bucket in hands, mouth agape – embarrassment. The heat of complete embarrassment that overtakes you feels like cold water poured down on your body. Your hands feel a little weak as you quickly try to regain your composure, looking away from Gojo despite knowing his eyes aren’t on you.

Fiddling with the hem of your apron, you try to find your words.

“When… When did you–” You stammer, “How…”

“Ah-ha! So, you plead guilty. That’s soooo shameless, flower.”

The familiar playfulness in his tone brings back a bit of confidence. Still, there’s something about it you can’t quite place; for a moment, you think there’s a bark to it, bitterness. Perhaps it’s something unpleasant about his day that he’s hung up about, increased by you not listening to him. He’s just teasing, you conclude, trying to vent whatever annoyance peeved him by picking on you.

You massage Prince Satoru’s scalp with shampoo – or the closest thing they had to it, in this world – hoping to placate his abrupt change in mood. Maybe you’ll hand-feed him another macaron.

“I was just… Looking.” You offer, cautiously, unsure if any explanation would make it better or worse for yourself, “There’s no harm in looking. Lord Nanami was admirable as a knight, and he’s handsome…”

Worse, if the crease between his eyebrows is anything to go by.

“… But not nearly as handsome as you, my prince.”

That seems to appease Gojo who, with a petty harrumph, relaxed into your touch again. Appealing to his ego always seemed to get you out of trouble. You’d never thought to be grateful for his petulant grouching, but it's music to your ears compared to the spitefulness from a few moments ago.

“I just find it vexing. Why would you ever bat those little eyelashes at Nanamin when you have the Morgan le Fay of men right in front of you to admire?”

“There’s no need for jealousy, Your Highness.”

You were just a humble fangirl admiring your bias, after all. You weren’t made of stone.

“At the stables. During the banquet. Would you like to have a portrait of Nanamin, so you can gawk at him when he’s not here, too?”

You rinse his scalp, running your hands through locks of his hair.

“I am so very sorry, my prince. Speaking of... Uh... Speaking of banquets! I hear there will be a ball."

It's a poor attempt to change the subject, and you can only give Satoru a sheepish, almost apologetic smile when he raises one side of the compress to acknowledge it as such, quirking an inquisitive eyebrow at you.

There will be a ball. In a month, to be exact. You know that not just from the growing agitation within the castle, or the coming and going of unfamiliar faces hired for temporary work, but because you had been counting the days for this very event ever since you realized this was the ball that kickstarts the main story, taking place towards the end of the prologue. It meant the heroine would finally show up.

You're not sure what it will mean for you.

“Sure, a ball...” He says, “My old folks said they would invite all the eligible maidens across the land because they want me to find a wife.”

“I'm sure you’re not too psyched about this...”

Prince Satoru vehemently nods in agreement.

“... But who knows? Give it a chance, you might just meet the love of your life there.”

“Pfft– Right, I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

“And why not?  

“Well, what if I already met the love of my life?”

Then that would be some pretty weird timing, Your Highness. Prince Satoru wasn’t supposed to meet the heroine until a few days before the ball takes place, in a beautiful clearing out in the countryside, where they’ll share a lovely meet-cute after he nearly tramples her with his horse.

“Alright…” You spouted, unsure, “Why not bring her to the ball, Your Highness?”

“She’ll be there.”

His rosy lips curve into a conspiratory smirk, mostly to himself, blissfully unaware of the can of worms he just opened inside your mind. Had he already met the heroine? But it was way too early! It couldn’t be– or could it? You’ll have to check the makeshift calendar on your notebook. The timeline you wrote down, as well. There has to be some sort of plot hole you’re missing, or maybe the events have been thrown out of place for some reason.

“But you’re right, maybe a ball won’t be so bad. They said any eligible maiden across the land, rich or poor, of high or low birth. It’s an opportunity!” He announced, the last word said with enough enthusiasm to make you jump.  

Once again, you don’t have the time to ask what he means– or to avert your gaze as he abruptly steps out of the bath, getting an eyeful of his bare ass against your will. You pat him dry with a towel as he helps himself to the tray of tarts and macarons. He extends both arms when he’s done so you can slip on the velvet, deep blue robe back on his body. Another towel is wrapped around his head.

The robe keeps him warm as he sits on a chair, waiting for you to come and finalize his night routine. You stay behind in the bathroom, emptying the bathtub, turning out the fire, disposing of the unused boiling water since Prince Satoru had decided to cut his bath short tonight.

When you close the door behind you, the smell of flowers and citrus is still in the air, stuck to his skin. You hum a tune as you brush his hair, its strands like gossamer, offering no resistance to the bristles.

“(Y/N).”

Gojo lifts up his head, not a hint of playfulness in his face or his tone.

“Yes, Your Highness?”

And yet his eyes are soft as they burn into yours, as if thinking, evaluating.

“Who, in this land, is the fairest of all?”

Every time he asks you this, you wonder if there was some dialogue you missed in the game. Nevertheless, the blatant reference makes you want to laugh; with him, though, the answer is always the same. There is no one to overshadow his beauty, objective, obfuscating, infuriatingly incontestable, and he knows that– you know that.

“You alone, my prince, are the fairest of all.”

If you were anyone else, you’d swoon at the smile he graces you with.

“By the way, I have something for you.”

There is a small box on the table he’s seated by, simple, with a golden latch, inconspicuous enough to only catch your attention when Gojo slides it closer, opening it to reveal an assortment of herbs tied together with a string.

“Since you ran out of valerian root…”

There wasn’t a single herb you could recognize, at least not with the dim candlelight. Despite this, you were pretty certain there was no valerian in that box.

“How did you know, Your Highness?”

“Those eyebags under your eyes, I know you haven’t been sleeping well.” He says, matter-of-factly, “Some old hag passed by the hunting lodge today, selling all sorts of things. Said this was a potent mixture of herbs for those with sleeping problems. It’s all safe, I’ve had the royal apothecary check it.”

You breathe a sigh of relief, retrieving the box and holding against your chest. You hope it knocks you right out. Heavens know you need it, after today.

“This is so generous, Your Highness… I don’t know how to thank you.”

“No need.”

He latches the box closed.

“Just have a deep, dreamless sleep for me.”

It was the very witching time of night, and the castle lay silent. Darkness reigned in its corridors, desolate and cold, broken only by flashes of lighting tearing through stygian skies.

Take pity, take pity on one who is sick of love.

Fire dances at the top of a candle, threatening to vanish at any moment, as one living soul treads through slate flooring, airy footsteps growing closer to your chamber door.

Satoru feels guilt twisting inside his stomach, that nauseating feeling of contrition before consummation. It doesn’t stop him, it never did – he isn’t delusional as to think his actions are without sin, but at least he knows he isn’t fully without a conscience. And yet, what is the point of guilt, overridden by excitement, conquered by overwhelming love, as he turns the key to your bedchamber, to defile you once again?

Defile, Satoru thinks to himself, is such an ugly word.

Your door doesn’t creak when opened. A simple spell to ward off prying ears, lest he has to replace another servant; Satoru had come to learn how thin those walls could be, sensitized to the littlest of noises in the dead of night.

He locks the door behind him, placing the candlestick holder on your bedside table.

There’s not much to see in the darkness, except for your pliable, sleeping form. You don’t feel the weight of your mattress shifting, so deep in slumber, as Satoru sits by the edge of your bed with the familiarity of a husband; and he likes to pretend, too, that these late-night rendezvous have an amorous twist to them. Isn’t it romantic, to be visited by a paramour so secretive you’re neither awake nor aware to receive?

What is he, if not a dedicated, twitterpated, infatuated princely lover sneaking through the hallways of his own castle to meet his beautiful dove, his golden trinket, his falcon’s eye–

But he isn’t delusional as to think his actions are without sin.

Satoru knows there’s nothing appealing about exploiting your vulnerabilities. If you were to ever find out, if you were to open your little eyes at this very second to see him stripping of his undertunic, the lovely relationship you’d built would crumble in a matter of seconds. It would break his heart into a million pieces, to see the horrified look of realization upon your face. And he feels the burning of guilt at the back of his mind, easy to dismiss, as his hands roam your body, past your clocked stockings of cotton and up your white shift.

He would hate to hurt you.

Which is why you’ll never find out. Your relationship can bloom into something far more precious that way, and soon he won’t need these nightly visits to fulfill the base needs you ignite in him. He often dreams of your wedding night, with you awake, receptive to his embrace, and then he’ll finally cross the one line he hasn’t dared to trespass all these years.  

The shift is carefully slipped off your body. His cock is dribbling with pre-cum, twitching at the sight of your hardening nipples. He bedews one digit with his saliva as he lays by your side, spreading your legs just enough to slip one hand between to stroke your clit, peppering your breast and neck with kisses, nibbles, and nips.

Your body is more than accustomed to his touch by now – and for a moment, he wonders if you’ll be confused on your wedding night when, just like now, your folds grow wet with so little stimulation. Soon he hears the change in your breathing as it becomes heavier, increasingly ragged, little whines starting to come out of your lips.

Still, you don’t wake. 

Not even as he slides a finger inside your soaked entrance.

It’s tight, temptingly tight, torturingly tight, but Satoru has enough self-control not to push himself through your folds. Not tonight. He can wait, he will wait until, eventually, you’ll be awake and willing to take his cock. He takes comfort knowing that day is not too far.

Satoru sits between your legs to rub his cock as he fingers you, biting his lip as not to let a wanton groan out.

"Fuck..."

It's not very regal to swear. He's never done so in front of you.

His voice is already strained, not above a whisper, when he sits up, settling between your legs to rub his cock with one of your limp hands. There are two fingers inside you now, Satoru biting his lip as to repress a moan stuck in his throat. He hates having to keep quiet, but the walls are thin, and it would be a lot more trouble than it's worth to deal with nosy neighbors.

Satoru isn't alarmed when you stir, eyebrows knitted slightly as he kneaded your clit with his thumb. It's not a sign you're waking up.

His fingers are coated in viscid, clear juices, thrusting in and out of your pussy with practiced ease. He can barely keep them inside when you tighten up, little tremors running through your body as you cum with a strangled whimper.

Satoru forgoes your hand in favor of positioning himself on between your folds, using your wetness to rub his length along your pussy, prodding at your clit with each upward motion. He’s lying atop you now, muscled chest glued to yours, gently suckling on your neck and muffling his low, guttural groans on your skin. His hips move at a controlled pace, refraining himself from how rough he wants to be with you – he’s still hung up about Nanami, after all –, feeling his own orgasm approach.

Your bed doesn’t creak, either.

He thinks of finally being enveloped by your insides, how your velvety walls would choke his cock when he made you cum. How your lips would touch his and you’d kiss, really kiss, how your body would respond to his touch when awake. What faces would you make for him? Would you look away, embarrassed, throw your arms around him and hold him tightly to you? He was dying to see you, to fill your womb as he looked deep into your open eyes.

Satoru Gojo isn’t delusional as to think his actions are without sin.

He’s delusional to a fault. And as much as he feels bad for you, for his horrible acts of debauchery against your unresponsive body – and all other perversions along the way – there’s hardly any guilt when he grips his cock with a tight fist, tugging at his length as spurts of pearly-white cum land on your bare stomach. His chest heaves, breath labored, half-lidded blue eyes staring at his handiwork with a dopey smile on his face.

Lightning illuminates the room, followed by thunder rumbling so deeply across the earth he swears he feels the walls shake. Candlelight flickers.

He cleans you up, not a trace of arousal to be found when he’s done, shift slipped back onto your body. For a moment, he sits at the edge of your bed again, leaning back on his arms. How he would love to wake up with you between his arms – but alas, you’d be much alarmed to see him by your side when morning comes.

He dresses himself, not before placing a chaste kiss goodnight on your forehead.

A ball, he ponders, that ought to be fun.

And as he leaves, candlestick holder in hand, locking the door behind him, there’s no guilt badgering his mind – only dresses. A selection of skirts and frills fluttering about, an appointment with the best seamstress in the kingdom; Satoru wonders which design he’ll choose for you to wear at the ball, smiling smugly to himself as he skips down the hallway, back to his chambers.

You wake with a startle, groggy, disoriented.

Resting in its usual spot at your bedside table, your trusty pocket watch indicates you’ve woken up a little over fifteen minutes later than you’re supposed to – Not too bad of a delay, which eases your initial panic. You’ll have to hurry up a bit when getting ready, but at least you won’t be late for work.

The herbs have worked a little too well, you conclude – gifted you dreamless sleep, devoid of interruptions, knocking you out barely an hour after drinking the tea you brewed. Although you had yet to fully wake up, there was newfound motivation to get on with your day after a much-needed good night’s sleep.

You make a mental note to properly thank Prince Satoru again. It was unexpectedly considerate of him to notice.

A shiver runs down your body as fresh air enters through your bedchamber window, caressing your face with its gelid touch. You see movement downstairs, servants and knights who have begun their day earlier than you. Beyond castle walls you saw the city, merchants coming and going through dirt roads among trees painted in breathtaking yellows, oranges and reds, its fallen leaves scattered over green grass. In the distance, you see neighboring villages and castles so far they nearly fade into the horizon. The sun is out again, blue skies adorned by white, fluffy clouds.

The faint, comforting smell of freshly baked bread hits your nostrils.

You should get ready– you don’t want to be late, of course. But there is time for a quick look in the mirror, to check if your exhaustion-induced eyebags have been minimized, even if ever-so-slightly. It’s only then that you notice, attention diverted from the area around your eyes, three small, faint red spots on your neck and collarbone.

You touch them, briefly wondering where they could possibly have come from; but you don’t have the time to dwell on it for more than a few seconds, your neck will be covered regardless. One last look at the mysterious marks and you shrug, brushing them off. It’s nothing to worry about, anyway.

Must have been a bedbug.

[genshinpact]

One Sentence Ships

Childe x Zhongli: you got betrayal, bloodlust, sugar daddies, convenient dragon anatomy, wrong sides of the war, miscommunications, culture clash—

Zhongli x Venti: those who share the memory....../I am the only person who understands your nightmares, I have the same ones—a kingdom is burning to the ground and I have a torch in my hand

Venti x Diluc: my kingdom’s beloved god is the annoying twink bard that keeps stealing my wine???

Diluc x Kaeya: translations are ~funky~ and that’s all I’ll say about that

Kaeya x Albedo: sexy coworker/destined to destroy the nation we love

Diluc x Childe: you killed my father, prepare to kissie

Childe x Kaeya: flirting to “gather intel”/if you stare long enough into the abyss, the abyss will stare back

Scaramouche x Childe: do you wanna place your bloody hand into my bloodier hand/whoever kills the most people gets to decide on dinner tonight

Mona x Scaramouche: whoever wins this tongue battle gets to decide whether astrology is real or not

Venti x Xiao: I fell in love with you the moment you played titanic on your recorder 1000 years ago

Xiao x Zhongli: loyalty. oh god my general is so fucking hot oh my god why is bowing to him so sexy

Keqing x Ganyu: my biggest turn on is the ability to do math and question divinity

Beidou x Ningguang: everyone knows the mayor is bonking the local pirate captain and yet to avoid death and egregious financial investigation, they say nothing

Ninggunag x Zhongli: the reincarnation of your best friend that died thousands of years ago is now pegging you

Razor x Bennett: puppy love with a puppy man

Chongyun x Xingqiu: matching keychains with your high school boyfriend

Childe x Lumine: trust me when I say he enjoys being kicked in the shins

Albedo x Aether: blond boys doing what blond boys do (turn each other into catboys)

Jean x Lisa: sexy librarian SEDUCES young mayor/true love is forged in civil management

Diluc x Jean: if you ever need to talk something out, my office door is always open (I left you a key a long time ago)

Amber x Eula: love is melting down someone’s icey walls (literal, actual, I have my fire arrows drawn and ready, come out and accept my love please)

Xiao x Traveler: I've watched that scene of Xiao catching them probably a thousand times analyzing every twitch of the hands like its a period drama

Ei x Yae: I love you so please trust me when I say that you are being a little bitch

Sara x Itto: staring at your “enemy”s tits while dueling for the 54th time that week, saying it’s because that’s where the vital organs are

Itto x Gorou: the Mulan effect—hot warriors are hot no matter what gender they present as

Kazuha x Tomo: cheering while your bf sword fights with god/please don’t go, what’s gonna happen to your cat (whats gonna happen to me)

Ayaka x Thoma: period drama we can’t do this you’re a lady and I am but your humble servant what will your older brother think

Ayato x Thoma: maid kink + period drama we can’t do this you’re a lord and I am but your humble servant you need an heir to maintain power in your clan

[boldlyvoid]

Amoreena | Chapter Five

Chapter Five

main summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Chapter Summary: (fluff only) weekly Saturday reading only they are joined by an extra 15 lost boys, not just Spencer

Warnings (adding as they happen): fluff, hurt/comfort, depressed spencer, reader has a daughter, falling in love, strangers to lovers, library smut, oral (female receiving) lots and lots of fluff

word count: 3K

from the beginning <3

He woke up Saturday morning to the sound of a bunch of voices coming from beyond the walls of his room. Only it wasn’t his room, it was the room he slept in when he stayed with Y/N and Amoreena, he hasn’t left since he arrived on Thursday and he had no plan to either.

They still hadn’t told her about their relationship, not wanting her to come crawling into bed with her mom in the morning to find Spencer there too. She wasn’t ready to explain to Amoreena what it meant for Spencer to be in her bed, how they were in love and that she might need to learn how to knock before entering.

So he slept in the spare room, completely contently because he knew she was only on the other side of the wall, instead of 30 minutes away like she would be when he slept at his own apartment.

It had been a week since he saw them reading in the park, and now they were his family. It was incredibly fast, anyone who heard the news would say so. But that’s how his life worked, he blew through everything incredibly fast, it only made sense for him to skip every step in the book and become a stepdad overnight.

He woke up then, missing Y/N and Amoreena as he thought about the last week. Finally getting dressed and peaking outside, through the crack in the blinds, to see what was going on on the farm.

There were a bunch of men in the field with the cows dropping new cattle off in a big truck as a bunch of children ran around the yard. Y/N wasn’t kidding when she said her 7 siblings had produced 15 cousins for Amoreena to play with. Children all between the ages of toddler and 7-years-old, screaming while they ran after Rufus and the cats, it was a pure dopamine rush to witness.

He found Y/N in the living room, a book in one hand and a coffee in the other, “good morning cutie, all the ruckus on the farm wake you up?” She did her best fake southern accent as she smiled at him. Beautiful as ever in the early morning sunshine.

He nodded with a yawn, sitting beside her and snuggling into her shoulder. She placed her mug in his hands so she could wrap an arm around him and pull him in closer, letting him take a sip of coffee and become a real person again.

He noticed she was reading a book he had never seen before, reading the pages and not know the words. It was a first for him.

“What’s that one about?”

Y/N closed it to let him look at the cover. It was a hand-bound book, wrapped in green fabric that was at least 30 years old and in well-loved condition. The gold lettering reading Amoreena, along with a pressed gold rose and the author's name. He had never heard of it before.

“My grandma was an aspiring writer and the reason I love books so much, her name was Peggy and she had a dream once about a wonderful little girl named Amoreena and the magical life she created for herself. She wrote it all down and my grandpa had it typed and bound for her, she was so proud of this book,” Y/N gushed, smiling as she held it to her chest softly, thinking of all the memories Spencer didn’t know yet.

“Really?” Spencer couldn’t help but smile at her.

She nodded softly, “she loved Elton John, so much so that when my sister Ashley came out she threw her a party. Almost all those kids out there are Ashley's, by the way, she went down the adoption and foster root after I did IVF.”

She pointed out the front window at all the people gathered on her land, “Ben and Dylan dropped their kids off too while they help dad and Evan with the farm. Those are my brothers in case you didn’t know their names yet, there’s also Carver and Francis but they don’t live as close.”

Her little life was just so perfect, “did they want to come with us to read this afternoon? We need some lost boys.”

“They’d love that, are you sure you can handle 16 kids between the two of us?” she smiled, pure love spreading through her body as she held him.

“They’re not so different from psychopaths right?” He teased, watching her settle against him even more as they enjoyed their Saturday together.

“What else can you tell me about your grandma?” He snuggled into her more as he asked, wanting to know as much about her happiness as possible.

“She was always listening to music, she loved Elton's song Amoreena the most. It was the song she played for the majority of my childhood. It only made sense for me to name my little miracle Amoreena too, cause I wouldn’t have her unless nanny suggested I have a baby.”

“I would have loved to meet her.”

Y/N’s smile changed then, “she would have loved you and your big mind.”

“My mom wants to meet you and Amoreena,” he announces softly, he hasn’t really told her anything about his family yet.

“What’s she like?”

“She has schizophrenia and Alzheimer’s and she lives in a care home in DC right now, I try and see her when I can but she has her own schedule so I have to fit around when she’s having a good day,” it was hard to explain it to most people, but not to her. He didn’t feel any shame or fear in introducing them. Y/N was the most loving human, and Amoreena was just the same.

“When is she free next?” A simple question that made him feel incredibly giddy.

“Tuesday from 3-5,” he snuggled in closer to her as she wraps her arm around him.

“We’ll pick Amoreena up from school after work and take her over,” Y/N agreed, their lives intertwining like they were always meant to.

Like she was the ivy on his old cottage, she took him in and made him her own, wrapping herself all around him and never letting him go again.

He basically finishes her coffee while she holds him on the couch. The sound of the kids outside making them laugh every once in a while, dogs barking and cows mooing, the farm was alive and roaring while they enjoyed each other's company.

“Did you bring your costume for the reading today?”

He sat right up then, looking at her like she lost her mind, “of course I did, I wouldn’t have Penelope spend a week tracking down a Captain Hook costume just to forget it.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped, “you didn’t?!”

He simply nodded with a cheeky grin, “come on Tinker Bell, everyone knows she had a thing for Hook.”

“Who didn’t? He was the first and last bad boy I was interested in, I typically go more for Milo’s and Ariel’s; full of adventure and always learning something new,” Y/N teased him.

“Mhm, I always had a thing for Aladdin and Belle in search of far off lands and happy endings,” he mused, making her smile just as much as he was, “but for real it was between Hook and Wendy for my costume,” he made her laugh again, wanting to hear it for the rest of time.

“You still can, I have a blue nightgown you can borrow,” it was so easy for them to flirt, it fit into their conversation so simply it felt like they had been together forever.

He couldn’t help leaning in to kiss her, resting her back against the couch softly as she held onto him. He loved kissing her, she tasted like coffee and happiness every single time. She made the cutest sounds when they would make out like she was surprised by it or she wasn’t used to it at all.

She made him feel like he was young again like he was 21 and in love for the first time. All his trauma disappeared and that Spencer who used to stare back at him in the mirror was gone now. That guy packed his bags and left the farm to never be seen again.

Good fucking riddance is all he had to say.

He was happy, he enjoyed being happy and he was going to stay happy. It was the only goal he had going forward, and as long as he was in her embrace, surround by the laugher of her child and family, he knew it would be possible.

Amoreena came running inside then, finding the two of them making out on the couch before they could part from each other.

“Ewww!” She cried, jumping on top of the two of them and knocking the wind out of Spencer.

“Get off,” Y/N tried to speak as she was crushed by the two of them. “Mom down!”

Spencer picks Amoreena up then, taking her away from the couch and spinning her around like she’s an airplane. She cheers and cheers and doesn’t want him to put her down because it’s so fun. The next thing he knows he’s being dragged outside to twirl all the kids around like they’re Peter Pan, flying through the air on their way to Neverland.

He’s surrounded by giggles and tickles fights, he’s tackled down against the dirt as a herd of tiny children dog pilled him. Laughing until he cried, feeling more joy than humanly possible and then Y/N’s telling them all to get ready to he’d to the park.

Coming down the stairs in a pirate costume to a bunch of screaming kids was an experience and a half. Spencer couldn’t believe how happy it made them all to imagine Captain Hook had broken into the house and Amoreena, or Peter Pan as she corrected him, chased him outside with all the lost boys.

He took a moment to learn all their names, all 15 of them, however, unlike the cats, they had relatively normal people names.

Kate, Cade, Jet, Lauren, Cassie, Sara, Evan, Benny, Olivia, Jessie, Owen, Maddie, Gwen, August, and Parker, were the cutest little family of cousins. some looked like Amoreena, some looked like their own mothers, a handful of them were adopted out of the country, they were the most perfect cast of lost boys.

He's never had any cousins, no pets, no siblings. His life never felt lonely until he realized what he missed out on.

“Dad,” Amoreena whispered as she tugged on his shirt lightly, “look!”

She pointed towards the house where Y/N was standing. When she said she was going as Tinker Bell he really didn’t think she meant looking exactly like Julia Roberts at the end of Hook.

She looked magical in her beautiful white dress, curly hair with the most perfectly placed flowers and flawless wings wrapped around her shoulders. She was a vision standing on the porch, waiting for him to pick his jaw up off the floor and compliment her.

“Tink,” the words are more like air, soft and barely there.

“Is Captain Hook being nice? Or should we take him to the pond and let the Alligators deal with him?” Y/N teased, marching down the stairs and poking Spencer's chest.

“Ouch,” he teased her, holding his hand over his heart to make her feel bad.

But she didn’t, “some Pirate you are,” she teased, sticking her tongue out at him before taking Amoreena’s hand and running off down the trail towards the main house, everyone following her lead.

Nanny packed enough snacks for all 16 kids, and a little extra just in case. Spencer slipped the lunch box over his shoulder and they made their way towards the adventure. Y/N pulling a wagon just in case the littlest ones didn’t want to walk anymore. It was spectacular.

Y/N stopped then, pretending to stand like an army man turning around abruptly to look at the troop. “Lost boys, are we ready?”

“Yes, Tinker Bell!” They cheered back.

“On my lead, 1, 2, 1, 2, 3, 4,” she marched, bringing her knees up high as they all followed her down the path. “We’re following the leader, the leader, the leader,” she began to sing.

Spencer was in awe, his heart felt like it was going to explode as he watched everyone follow her. Singing along as they marched their tiny little butts down to the park.

“We’re following the leader wherever she may go!” Amoreena yelled the lyrics back, leading the pack as Peter Pan should.

“Tee dum, tee dee, a teedle ee do tee day Tee dum, tee dee, it's part of the game we play Tee dum, tee dee, the words are easy to say Just a teedle ee dum, a teedle ee do tee day

Tee dum, tee dee, a teedle ee do tee dum We're one for all, and all of us out for fun We march in line and follow the other one With a teedle ee do, a teedle ee do tee dum”

It was like magic, they all knew the words and they sang the whole way down the path. Every verse and then repeating it. Not a single kid strayed from the path, no one complained about sore feet or hot backs, they loved their Aunty Y/N and so did Spencer.

“We’re off on an adventure, adventure, adventure,” Y/N changed the words, making him smile as she brought happiness into the world. “We’re off on an adventure to read out in the sun! Tee dum, tee dee, a teedle ee do tee day…”

Every single time he thought she had given him the best day of his life, she manages to outdo herself.

—

They barely listened to the story, it was a disaster of epic proportions but they tried. 15 kids is a lot to handle as an ex FBI agent and a librarian, they had lunch and instead ran around the field playing lost boys instead. It was still an amazing afternoon.

He was going to be covered in bruises the next morning. He had been kicked, poked, trampled, jumped on, the whole 9 yards. They were the most energetic bunch in the whole world, and then they came home to ice cream.

“Y/N,” Spencer finally pulled her aside when all the kids were preoccupied with their cold snack after a hot day.

“Yes, cutie?” It was a nickname that was sticking, much like pretty boy, and he didn’t mind it at all.

“We’re going to need more than 2 songs tonight to get her to go to bed,” he teased, stepping into that step-dad role with ease.

She couldn’t stop smiling at him, wrapping him up in her arms gently so he didn’t crush her fairy wings. “We’ll take her swimming, that’ll tire her out instead. Are you lookin’ for some alone time?”

“I love her dearly, but I can’t kiss you as much when she’s around,” he whispered before pecking her quickly and hearing the group of lost boys pretend to be sick.

“Just because he’s my dad doesn’t mean you have to be gross like your mom and dad, mom,” Amoreena’s smart mouth making them both shake their heads and laugh.

“What would you do if I did this?” Y/N teased before dipping Spencer back like a princess and kissing him, he stuck his foot out in shock as she held him there.

“Ewww!!” All the kids yelled as she returned him to his feet.

“Or this?” Y/N pulled him into another kiss, her leg popping like Princess Mia’s in the princess diaries.

Amoreena and her cousins were all screaming then, laughing at how gross their aunt and her new boyfriend were being. Used to it clearly, their grandparents were just as in love and watching from the porch as they held each other on the swing.

“I love you,” Spencer announced, loud enough for all to hear without a care in the world.

“You better,” she smiled. “I love you too, cutie,” she added before kissing him one last time.

His life felt perfectly complete.

Y/N’s brothers were incredibly kind just like her. He learned that Ashley was the oldest with 5 kids and her wife Susie, then Ben who was 46 and his wife Shannon, they had 3 kids. Dylan and Laurie had 4 and Even, her twin brother had 3.

Turns out her mom had 2 sets of twins back to back, 7 children and only 5 pregnancies. It felt crazy for him to think about having that many people in his life for his whole life, he wouldn’t have known what to do with anyone more than just his mother growing up.

Spencer helped Bob with the barbecue, they made burgers and hotdogs for all 16 of the children while they continued to run through the fields. They had enough energy to last them 5 straight days of chaos. It was amazing.

Y/N and Spencer managed to wander off while all the kids ate, sitting under a tree with their dinner so they could finally have some time alone together.

She was beautiful, sitting in the afternoon amber glow as she tried to keep her hair from blowing in her face. Tucking the strands behind her ears so she could eat her dinner in peace before spencer handed her the hair tie on his wrist. Then she got ketchup on her cheek, seemingly on purpose as she smiled at him and laughing as Spencer wiped it off with his thumb. He was so in love he felt stupid, smiling at her like he’s never seen another person before, absolutely enamoured.

“Derek and his wife wanted to come over tomorrow and have his son meet Amoreena if that’s okay?”

Her face lit up, “his son is the one named after you right? Not your godson?”

He nodded with yet another smile, his lips were going to fall off at this point. “Yeah, he’s the sweetest little guy, Hank’s never been to a farm before.”

“You tell them our gates are always own to new minds and pure hearts,” she smiled. “That’s what nanny used to say.”

He leans in and kisses her then, resting his forehead against hers as she held his cheek in her free hand, smiling ever so softly as she stared into his eyes, they didn’t need words, he knew she loved him too. A week of pure bliss had passed within the blink of an eye, and they still had forever to go.

Taglist: @shemarmooresfedora @spookyspence @spencers-dria @manuosorioh @reidsfish @mochionly (send me an ask if you want to be added to the tag list, I don't always see every reply! i love you guys thank you so much for reading)

[bartramcat]

This is a little piece I've been screwing around with for a while now. It's based on a couple of suppositions: in Immortality, we learn that Sara knew details about Grissom stopping Heather from committing murder in Pirates. I have always assumed she learned about what happened directly from him.

The other supposition is pure speculation. We are never told when Heather found out about Grissom and Sara. I always assumed when she saw them together in TGTBATD that she just knew, but the last time I watched that episode she seemed to react to Sara's name, so I wondered if somehow, off screen, she learned about the existence of Sara, without Grissom giving her specific details about who she was.

Anyhow, this is a poor attempt to come up with a scenario to cover both those bases.

______________________________________________________________

An SUV pulls up to Lady Heather's house. Grissom gets out, walks around and opens the passenger door. He offers his hand. Heather takes it, and he helps her out of the vehicle. Her face is still tear-streaked, her hair askew. 

They walk slowly to her door, wordless. She fumbles for her keys, then acridly, angrily:

H: You should have let me kill him.

G: Heather--

H: He murdered my daughter.

G: (Emphatically) You would have gone to prison.

She opens the door, enters, turns back to look at him.

H: I don't care.

G: Maybe not now. 

Leaving the door open, she wanders into the house, collapsing in a chair. Grissom watches her for a moment, enters, closes the door, and follows her in. He places his hands on the back of the chair across from her.

G: He's going to prison. 

H: Not enough. Not for what he did to her.

His phone rings.

G: Grissom...I'm with her...at her house...No….OK. (To Heather) That was Brass.

H: What does he want?

G: They've arrested him. He's in the hospital. There could be attempted murder charges.

H: Attempted? He murdered her. 

G: Not him. You.

Heather seems to take this in.

H: So is Captain Brass coming to arrest me?

G: You should call your lawyer.

H: I don't need a lawyer.

G: Heather--

H: I'll plead temporary insanity. (At his look.) It's true, and you know it.

G: That may be. But it could still be deemed premeditated.

She regards him, then softly.

H: I'd like some tea. You remember…

G: Yes.

He disappears.

Several minutes later, Grissom returns carrying a cup of tea. He places it on the table next to her.

H: You don't want any?

G: No.

H: You seem...restless. Like you're late for a date.

G: You're not making it easy for me.

H: To do what?

G: To help you.

H: I can take care of myself.

G: I know that. But sometimes--

His phone rings again. He looks at the caller ID and turns away from Heather.

G: Hi...Yes…I really can't go into it right now...I'll tell you later...okay...bye.

Heather studies him.

H: Your date?

He can't believe her question. And that she's right. He hesitates.

G: No. 

H: You're lying.

He stares at her, knowing he must have tells only she can see.

H: You know I used to worry about you. That you'd end up alone.

G: You should worry about yourself.

H: Whatever happens, I have no regrets.

He decides to pursue a different course.

G: What about your grandchild?

H: I don't know if I have a grandchild.

G: Don't you think you should find out?

H: How?

G: You have resources. 

H: And just forget about my daughter? How she suffered? How he tortured her?

G: No, but It's out of your hands now. I think you should concentrate on the living. You can't do that from prison.

H: I have faith in the justice system.

G: The justice system or the judges?

H: Both. It's not your concern.

G: I thought I was your friend.

H: I thought that once too.

G: Thought?

H: Your problem is that you subjugate every relationship to your job. Your sense of duty. It's why no one can ever really get close to you.

This stings him. He looks as if he's going to say something, changes his mind. She sips her tea, pensive.

H: Is she pretty?

G: Who?

H: The woman you're dating.

He looks away then back at her. He doesn't want to fight with her, so he accedes.

G: Yes. 

She studies him.

H: This isn't one of your Platonic infatuations. You're not a man who dates casually.

G: (Softly) No.

H: Are you in love with her?

He shrugs.

H: I think you are.

G: Heather…

H: You wouldn't be involved if you weren't.

G: She--

H: Makes you happy?

He sees no point in dissembling.

G: Yes.

H: Are you going to marry her?

Realizing she isn't going to let it go:

G: It's complicated.

She seems to be considering...something.

H: She's not married...no, you'd never get involved with a married woman. You have too many scruples. What could it be?

G: Does it matter? 

H: No, but it is fascinating.

G: What ?

H: Gil Grissom in love. Indulge me. (Smiling) Think of it as a way to get my mind off (stiffens) things.

He seems to weigh his options, then:

G: She's quite a bit younger than me.

H: How much younger?

G: 15 years.

H: (She laughs) That's nothing. She's over 30. You're not robbing the cradle. (Direct) You are having sex with her.

Again, he shrugs. She regards him, as if looking into him. 

H: She would have to share your interests. You met at an entomology seminar?

G: Something like that.

H: How long have you been seeing her? 

G: Heather–

H: I can see you don't want to tell me about her.

G: No.

H: But when you leave here you're going to her.

G: I'm going back to the Lab. Then home.

H: Will Sara be waiting for you?

His eyes widen. He's stunned. She smiles coyly.

H: I saw the caller ID on your phone. 

He's relieved. She's just a name to her.

H: What does Catherine think of her?

G: She doesn't know.

H: Brass?

He shakes his head.

H: No one at CSI knows you're seeing someone? 

G: My private life is private.

H: So she's your secret?

G: If you say so.

H: You couldn't hide it from me.

G: I could never hide much from you.

H: I'd like some more tea.

He takes the cup from her, leaves the room.

There is a knock at the door. Heather goes to answer. It is Brass.

H: Have you come to arrest me, Captain Brass?

B: There's been an allegation of assault. 

H: Not guilty by means of mental incapacity.

B: You? That'll be the day.

H: I was crazy with grief. I still am.

Grissom appears, places the teacup on the desk. Brass regards him.

B: I hear you were a witness.

G: That she was out of her mind, yes.

B: He said you stopped her from killing him.

Grissom doesn't answer.

H: I'll confess. Leave Grissom out of it. I'll admit to the charges. I wanted to kill that man.

B: I suggest you call your lawyer.

H: I'll take that under advisement.

B: (To Grissom) Are you staying the night?

H: Grissom was just leaving.

Grissom looks surprised.

G: You're sure you'll be all right?

H: Don't worry about me. I can take care of myself. I always have.

Grissom hesitates for a moment, then follows Brass out. 

Outside.

B: I hope you're not going to get involved with her again.

G: I get it. You came to check up on me, not her.

B: I don't want to see you risk your career…

G: You don't have to worry about that where Heather's concerned.

B: You're sure about that?

G: Yes. 

B: If you say so.

The two men regard each other.

B: What happened out there? 

G: I took the whip away from her, called you and brought her home. 

B: Why didn't you wait?

G: I thought it best to get her as far away from him as possible. 

B: To defuse the situation?

G: Yes. She really was out of her mind.

Brass seems to be considering something.

B: Parents are rarely rational where their children are concerned. 

G: No. Are you going to arrest her? 

B: Where Heather's concerned, that decision needs to come from someone higher up the food chain. I'll have a uniform watch her place.

G: I don't think she'll try to flee. 

B: I don't either. But, you know, optics.

After a moment:

G: Do you think they'll charge her?

B: I really don't know. She has a lot of friends in high places.

_____________________________________________________________

Sometime after dawn. Bedroom. Sara is lying in bed. A Boxer is next to her. She strokes him unconsciously. Grissom enters the room; he is wearing a robe. He opens a closet door, removes the robe and hangs it on a hook on the door. He is in t-shirt and boxers. Sara and the dog have been watching him. He moves to the bed. As if on cue, the boxer jumps down. He pulls back the covers and gets into bed. Sara places her head on his shoulder and drapes her arm across his chest.

S: Enjoy your shower?

G: I guess.

S: You're still tense.

G: I really thought she was going to kill that man.

S: He killed her daughter. 

G: She was like a madwoman. I hardly recognized her.

S: I know you've known her for a while.

G: From a couple of cases a few years ago. 

S: Is that how you knew where to find her?

G: No. She was fixated on where her daughter was found. When I realized she...well, I knew that was where she would take him.

S: What's going to happen to her?

G: I don't know. If she's convicted of assault…

S: You said there might be a grandchild.

G: All she knows is that Zoe was pregnant by her married therapist.

S: Ugh.

G: So whether she gave birth or not. 

S: He may have told her to terminate.

G: Yeah. Especially after Heather got his license revoked.

S: She didn't.

G: She did. Sleeping with a patient…

S: I hope I never get on her bad side.

G: (He strokes her cheek) Unlikely.

His phone rings. He reaches for it on the nightstand.

G: Grissom….Does she know?...Do you?...Thanks for letting me know.

He places the phone back on the nightstand. Sara looks askance.

G: That was Brass. The judge wouldn't sign an arrest warrant for Heather. Said he thought she was justified.

S: Really. 

G: Brass wasn't surprised. As he said, she has friends in high places.

Sara retakes her position, although this time she places her head on his chest. Her hand finds his.

S: Are you still worried about her?

G: No. Brass said she asked him if he knew a good P.I. 

S: He called her?

G: Yes. 

S: He's not involved with her... that way?

Grissom laughs.

S: What's so funny?

G: The best way to describe the two of them is kind of an armed truce. They really dislike each other.

S: So why did he call her?

G: He can't help himself. Probably has something to do with his daughter.

S: She's in LA, right?

G: Yeah. From what I gather…

S: I know. Lab grapevine.

G: Anyway, he has this protective instinct where women are concerned... even when he disapproves of their life choices.

S: The P.I.?

G: I think she's going to look for her grandchild. 

S: So you think she'll be ok?

G: Yeah I do. She has a purpose. 

S: I hope she learns the truth.

After a few moments. 

G: I'm glad you're here.

S: I love sleeping with you, you know. 

G: Uh, honey, do you mind if we just, you know, sleep?

She leans up and kisses him softly.

S: You know what the best thing is about going to sleep with you?

G: What?

S: Waking up with you. 

[lesbianmarrow]

watched legends of tomorrow 3.12 i like that sara and ava went on a date and kissed and presumably had sex, good for them. at first i was annoyed that their date dresses were so boring but i think maybe that was the point bc they were both trying to be “normal” which they obviously aren’t. 

one thing that bothered me was how the sara/ava stuff was like constantly framed by men....like there was mick saying sara & ava together would be hot, which is like okay the joke is supposed to be that mick is a misogynist but then the actual scene doesn’t reflect that intention, since sara doesn’t know that mick made that joke so at the end of the scene when sara says “i have some business to take care of in star city” and mick creepily says “i’m sure you do” the joke is on sara for not knowing that mick is being a creep. i do think that mick’s sexist or homophobic jokes work sometimes, when it’s about how ignorant and out-of-touch he is, but in this case it’s too mean and disrespectful. 

and then also when ava & sara are kissing and then the pirates open the portal and see them kissing :/ them kissing isn’t treated as salacious but the fact is that it’s a scene of a bunch of men watching 2 women kissing and that has certain cultural implications even if the show tries to present it as neutral. also it undercuts the sweet & romantic moment which is such a shame. i get that it’s meant to represent how sara & ava’s lives will never be normal but still....i wish the show could’ve accomplished that some other way. and i hope future episodes do better