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wileys-russo · 3 months

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love is blind II l.williamson x reader

based around this request here but changed it up a little! love is blind II l.williamson x reader

entering the stadium and making your way down court side your eyes lit up in wonder, raking the thousands of cheering fans clad in their favorite teams colors, chatter bouncing off the walls backed by the upbeat pump of the music in the background as both teams warmed up for the game.

you'd been in new york working for six months now, subletting a room from one of your childhood pen pals which had somehow stood the tests of time, a unique friendship you treasured dearly even if she was an absolute hurricane on her best days.

working as a freelance photographer had lead you to live a colorful life to say the least. you'd been travelling the world from the moment you'd decided to drop out of your rational business degree, deciding much to your parents worry that sort of career just wasn't for you.

but though you'd hopped from one city to the next you'd never really existed in one place long enough to set down solid roots as a large part of your heart always remained back home with your loved ones.

photography far from the most steady income flow it would be an understatement to say at times your situation had been stretched, and you'd learned to become quite the adaptable and creative chef when living from dollar to dollar in some remote corners of the worlds.

but new york had been providing job after job, an endless list of up and coming talents forever wanting headshots, subbing in last minutes as an assitant on shoots for the experience and even shooting for a few magazines along the way had kept you here longer than intended.

but as you grew older and your family expanded, a whole horde of nieces and nephews you hardly saw compiling back home, you found your heart for once longing to settle, to find a reason to set down some roots and maybe a full time job to go with it.

but for now your brother had somehow swung you these courtside tickets for you and your roommate, though with a raging hangover she'd refused to leave the bed, only returning home around nine this morning in a different dress she'd left home in and without shoes you'd known from that very moment you'd likely be venturing to the game tonight alone.

but well traveled on your own that wasn't anything that scared you, you were anyone but someone who dismissed a new experience even if it was a solo one.

which is exactly how you found yourself subtly counting the seats as you made your way down the very front row, making a mental note to smack your brother the next time you saw him for how much he'd likely splashed on these seats which were an early birthday present.

finally finding your seat you were surprised to find it already occupied, a blonde head of hair in jorts and a white button up lazing about comfortably with a drink in her hand.

even without speaking a word you could sense the strong personality oozing from her, loud laughter echoing about as she conversed with a couple of men in the row behind her, an aura of confidence hanging in the air which had your stomach twisting at needing to interrupt her.

"hi i'm so sorry but i think you're in my seat." leah glanced up at the new voice breaking away from her conversation she was previously occupied in, breath catching at the eyes she found herself looking up into.

"i'm 7a, sorry." you winced showing her your ticket on your phone, never having been one for confrontation but the court side seats had been a gift and if the sender didn't see you utilizing them on the tv you'd be getting your ear chewed off without a doubt.

"oh shit no i'm sorry! i didn't even think to check the number i just sat down in the right row." leah apologized sincerely glancing around for jason who had her ticket and lanyard still in his pocket, finding him on the other side of the court taking photos with a group of players.

the seat next to her free leah shuffled over one, allowing you to take your seat as you placed your bag under you and crossed one leg over the other.

"i'm leah." the blonde introduced herself with a smile as you settled a little seeing she wasn't upset like you'd feared but rather seeming quite friendly.

introducing yourself you shook her hand with a laugh as she stuck it out toward you. "how very formal of you." you teased, surprisingly at ease with the english woman finding comfort in the familiar accent in the vast sea of americans you'd been swimming in these last few months.

"well you'd know first and foremost how charming the english are. thought you might want a taste of home! which would be..." leah trailed off with a raised eyebrow.

"i was brought up not to share my home address with strangers. weren't you taught about stranger danger as a child!" you smiled playfully as leah turned herself a little more to face you.

"leah williamson. england captain, european champion, newly appointed basketball fan, first time in new york. i have a younger brother, my grandma is my best mate and i kick a ball round for a living. i spoke at the united nations earlier today and i'm drinking away the nerves i said something terrible because i practically blacked out and can't remember anything!" leah held her drink up in a silent cheers, downing the rest of what appeared to be a gin and tonic with a wink.

"go on stranger, your turn." the blonde encouraged with a flick of her hand as you smiled, finally clocking where she looked familiar. you weren't a massive sports fan, which was ironic given your current location, but you'd have to be completely blind not to recognize the captain of the lionesses after their huge euros win.

"freelance photographer and business school drop out, lived in this fine urban jungle in a shoebox for about six months now. sorry to hit your ego miss euros but i've never sat through a single football match without falling asleep! my dog is my best friend and i'm the youngest of six, the final perfect creation one might say." you grinned, leah rolling her eyes playfully.

"a humble one too it would seem. now look! no longer strangers are we? thank god danger averted." the blonde exhaled wiping at her brow in mock relief before bumping her knee into yours with a grin.

as the announcer started to call out the lineups and the crowd erupted in volume leah shuffled just a tiny bit closer and leant in so she could continue to talk to you, basketball now really the last thing on her mind.

by the final buzzer you couldn't care less who'd won or lost having spent almost the entire game chattering away to leah who seemed more than content to fill in the gaps of your sports knowledge, taking any opportunity she could to slip in a teasing remark about your lack thereof.

"well leah it was lovely to spend some time with such a charming brit! even if you are from milton keynes." you sent leah a dazzling smile and a wink which flipped her stomach, the blonde waving off jason who tried to capture her attention on her other side.

"you may not share my bursting pride and joy for the greatest place on gods green earth but without my ongoing commentary and extensive sports knowledge i'm sure you'd have been bored out of your mind. and now you can tell your brother you sat court side and share his appreciation of this fine game!" leah grinned back, fingers drumming against the lip of her cup.

"mm and imagine his shock when i tell him it was all thanks to an arsenal player, i'll be disowned mind you!" you smacked her knee with a roll of her eyes only causing her grin to widen.

"god i almost forgot you come from a chelsea loving family, disgraceful behaviour that mate." leah grimaced with visible disgust, covering her mouth as she spoke the c word making you laugh and smack her knee again, your hand lingering there for a moment.

as you pulled away leah found herself missing the touch, trying to shake herself out of it and putting it down to the alcohol buzzing through her head.

"i should really get going i'm meeting someone for dinner, but it was lovely sitting and speaking with you." you started sincerely, standing to your feet as leah did the same.

"me too, it was a pleasure to provide you with an in depth basketball crash course." leah joked as you laughed, the sound sending a strange feeling coursing through her stomach.

"i really would have been bored out of my mind without you here, enjoy the rest of your trip. i'll be sure to look out for your UN speech online i'm sure you smashed it!" leahs cheek flushed pink as you leant in and pressed a soft kiss to it, sending her a kind smile and before she could utter another single syllable you were gone.

"beth! i am telling you she's a no show. i've waited here for thirty minutes man i'm not wasting the rest of my night!" leah huffed, whisper yelling down the phone to her supposed expert match making friend, slumping down further in her seat.

meanwhile on the opposite side of the restaurant your eyebrows furrowed as you sent your tinder date yet another message which was left on delivered, rolling your eyes and locking your phone with a defeated huff.

"yeah? well your friends name must be casper." leah rolled her eyes unimpressed with beths attempts to make excuse for the mystery woman she'd insisted on setting leah up with, an old family friend who'd lived in new york the last few years who leah just had to meet.

"christ beth i know thats not her name for fuck sakes. i meant because it would appear she's a ghost you numpty!" leah groaned, flashing an apologetic smile toward the couple the table over who gave her an odd look.

"no she's a no show of course just my luck. are you still up for a drink? i can meet you literally anywhere that isn't here. see i told you tinder wasn't for me!" you sighed over the phone, abandoning your half finished drink and grabbing your bag off the counter.

"no i am not going to give it a few more minutes mccabe. now beth call your mate and tell her to lose my number, i told the two of you a blind date was an awful idea but did you listen? no!" leah sternly told off the women on the other end of the phone before hanging up with a frustrated huff and declining the incoming call which followed.

standing from her chair the defender sent the waitress an awkward smile who'd been sending her pitiful glances from the moment she sat down alone at the table clearly set for two.

"oh you're already out? yeah send me the address and i'll get a taxi to soho, and i will be deleting tinder on my way over!" you warned, wincing a little as your friend returned inside and you could clearly hear the music blasting in the background of wherever she was.

not having ordered anything bar a drink she'd already paid for leah bypassed the hostess as she made a hurried beeline for the exit. but too focused on not being seen by the prying woman she knew would ask questions, leah didn't watch where she was walking and suddenly her body collided with another as she stepped outside.

"christ! do you not have eyes?" that voice.

leah sat up from her place on the floor as you did the same, angry features softening at the familar face staring back at you guiltily. "i do in fact have eyes, just forget to use them sometimes." leah winced with a sheepish smile as your own lips curled up in amusement.

"i thought athletes were supposed to be coordinated." you mocked as she hurried to her feet and offered you her hands which you took gratefully, the taller girl hauling you up and steadying you as you nearly slipped again.

"whats whitney houstons favorite form of coordination?" leah blurted out randomly as you gave her a curious look. "hand eyee!" leah sung, loudly, proudly and a little off key as you couldn't help but burst out with a surprised laugh, leahs face lighting up at the sound.

"you really are the perfect combination of charming and strange." you teased, the two of you making your way down the steps out front of the restaurant. "well the world would be incredibly dull if everyone was ill mannered and normal now wouldn't it?" leah countered with a wink as you playfully rolled your eyes.

"so your dinner-" "after the game i-"

you both blushed slightly in the crisp autumn evening as you spoke at the same time. "your dinner, that was fast. is this a normal new york dine and dash?" leah smiled, the two of you starting to walk aimlessly down the street.

"well normally when you meet someone for dinner they show up, so more of a dash without the dine!" you admitted with an annoyed huff, phone still clear of any notifications from your so called date.

"if it makes you feel any better you're singin to the choir. normally when you're set up on a blind date the date in question shows up." leah countered with an empathetic smile as you frowned, unable to understand how the tall charming admittedly quite gorgeous blonde in front of you could have possibly been stood up.

it wasn't as if you hadn't noticed her beauty at the game, but you were far too busy being swept up by her witty one liners, passionate commentary, teasing remarks and sharp sense of humor to really focus all too much on the physicality of it all.

but now you were you found yourself rather enamored with and maybe starting to harbor a slightly juvenile crush on the tall footballer walking by your side.

"dates huh? the worst part of being single." you sighed with an understanding shake of your head, leah humming her agreement and jolting as you suddenly stopped in your tracks. "where are we actually going?" you asked with a laugh, realizing the two of you were truly just wandering without a destination.

"how about for a drink? normally when i try to sweep a girl off her feet thats how i'd start to go about it, not actually taking her down off her feet." leah quipped with a charming smile, pearly white teeth flashing at you cheekily.

"well its the least you can do, think i might have uh tore a quad or a hammy maybe on that fall? oh ref! ref! book her for it!" you faked an injury, bending down to grab at your leg as leah withheld the urge to smile and shook her head at you.

"very funny. you know we could get you on the pitch with diving skills like that! not for arsenal though, we frown upon that sort of reckless, illegitimate and downright unprofessional behavior." leah puffed her chest out with a wave of her hand as you shoved her playfully.

"you know i could get you some acting classes as a gift if you'd like? after all we're only a few streets away from broadway. might win the league with some polished poor tackles, grunts of pain and strategic pens." you teased, leah scoffing at your words.

"well firstly i am utterly offended at that. but secretly i'm quite proud you retained that much football lingo in only a couple of hours, by the time i'm done with you you'll be wearing red, chanting my name and screaming north london forever!" leah smirked, stepping closer to you with a twinkle in her eye.

"and by the time i'm done with you football might just be the very last thing on your mind." you quipped back with a flirty smile, the burst of sudden confidence catching leah a little off guard as she tilted her head, looking down at you as you caught her gaze flicker toward your lips which curled up victoriously.

"so, about that drink?" "i think i know a place."

"-and you're sure about this? i don't want you to feel rushed baby." you frowned down at your girlfriend, absentmindedly playing with her hair as her head lay in your lap.

"never been more certain my girl. as much as i love having you all to myself with the move back now i'd love to have you finally meet the girls." leah assured, reaching a hand up to squish your cheeks with a soft smile.

it was safe to say that night in new york and the promise of one drink had wound up as many more with leah stumbling into your shoebox of an apartment with your hand over her mouth desperately trying to stiffle the drunken giggles she couldn't seem to hold back as to not wake your roommate.

it didn't work, your roommate leaping out of the shadows with a baseball bat scaring the two of you half to death as leah pushed you behind her and chucked her fists up, barely able to stand on her own feet as she swayed to and fro.

quickly ushering leah to your bedroom you guiltily sent your friend a smile and promised to explain in the morning, the girl sending you a knowing look of amusement and a hum before retreating back to her own bed.

that night you and leah stayed up talking for hours and hours about everything and nothing, your hand consistently smacking over her mouth as she was unable to control the volume of her boisterous laugh, her tongue licking your palm each time making you squeal and slap her before she'd use the moment to steal a kiss with a cheeky grin.

beyond a few lazy drunken kisses not much more happened, leah waking up still a little tipsy only mere hours later with her phone filled with missed calls and a pounding headache.

feeling her stir and shuffle around looking for her phone you'd woken not long afterward, an anxiety that she was going to leave without another word simmering at the surface of your partially conscious state as she slipped out of bed and headed for the bathroom.

disappointment flooded you momentarily before you shook it off best you could, reminding that one night stands were more than normal and just because you weren't accustomed to them didn't mean leah owed you anything more.

but to your surprise she returned quickly having sent the messages she needed to in order to free up her day, sliding back into bed with you with a smile and a tired sigh.

"good morning." the blonde rasped out, voice cracked and clearly struggling as you offered her the bottle of water from your nightstand which she accepted gratefully.

an old t-shirt of yours hanging off of her taller form it amused you the way it almost looked like a crop top with the height difference, a gentle teasing remark about it falling from your lips as leah playfully flicked your nose and laid back down.

her arms wrapping around you was a foreign yet comforting feeling, a sense of safety that was unknown to you encompassing where you both lay beneath the duvet tangled up together, not another word uttered as within a few minutes you felt her grip relax slightly and her breathing even out.

sleeping away most of the day you'd later asked her out to dinner with the promise of helping her refuel the energy you'd stole from her with the two of you talking well into the early morning, leah eagerly agreeing.

parting after dinner with a lengthy kiss you'd exchanged numbers with a sense of uncertainty of where this could go, leah flying back to london the following morning and you with jobs lined up for the following month.

but with both of you clearly curious and seemingly eager, messages turned into calls which grew to facetimes, and suddenly leah was jetting over to visit you for a few days and you were secretly sneaking off to london to see her, hiding from your family the knowledge you were back.

on the third time you'd met up again leah laid it out for you, admitting she wasn't one for a long distance relationship and hadn't expected to fall for you the way she had, but with the two of you rapidly growing feelings which seemed to be reciprocated you agreed to give it a go.

two months down together and you'd made the decision to return permanently back to england. promising leah over and over it wasn't solely for her and you already had some work lined up, as well as informing of the fact your mum was a few days away from putting your face on a milk carton claiming her daughter had been missing in action for far too long.

you'd intended to get your own place but staying with leah for the first couple of weeks while you looked around the two of you fell into a routine. then out for dinner one night the blonde had offered you a key and asked if you'd move in for good, and with her ever dazzling smile reeling you in how could you say no.

the two of you had kept your blossoming relationship quite quiet, really only meeting one anothers immediate family once you were ready and staying wrapped up in your little love bubble the last few weeks.

the honeymoon phase as leahs mum amanda had dubbed it with an amused smile, only seemed to grow as you and leah finally embraced being able to be together in the way you'd both craved from the very first moment she'd asked you to be her girlfriend.

you'd been having the ongoing conversation the last few days about starting to meet one anothers friends, that seeming the next step in your relationship which was what lead to the current conversation.

true to leahs words that very first night you met, she'd had her way and every weekend now had you bundled in her jersey and sat with her family watching her play, chanting along and proudly singing the angel before every match.

you'd obviously met a few of her close friends and teammates before, hardly able to hide the fact you were living together, but not officially as leahs girlfriend and most nights she had her own friends over you'd be out catching up with your own.

"i really want you to come out after the game and meet all the girls as my girl, officially." leah promised, interlacing her fingers with yours and bringing your knuckles to her mouth, kissing softly as you melted like putty in her hands.

"my pretty pretty lovely gorgeous girl." leah pushed herself to sit up, now hovering over you as her lips ghosted yours and she pulled away with a smirk as you chased them for a kiss, pouting when you didn't get your way.

"so needy." leah teased with a smile as you pinched her for the comment and captured her lips in a kiss, sighing happily as her mouth moved against yours perfectly, butterflies erupting and head spinning as it did every time leah was in your immediate vicinity.

"so. you'll come out tonight then?" leah pulled away and asked hopefully, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear and pecking your lips a few times.

"mmm haven't decided yet baby, might need a few more of these to really seal the deal." you stroked your chin thoughtfully before tapping your lips with a smile and a wiggle of your eyebrows making your girlfriend hide a laugh.

"cheeky girl. well baby i guess i can accommodate these heinous demands!" leah sighed dramatically with a roll of her eyes, leaning back in and pressing her lips to yours with a smile.

"how are you feeling gorgous?" leah questioned softly as she parked the car, flicking off the engine and glancing toward you sat in the passenger seat. "nervous." you answered honestly as her hand sat on your thigh squeezed gently.

"i understand my love but i promise the girls are so excited to finally meet you, and i've never met someone as easy to get along with as you. they're all gonna love you and i'm gonna have to fight them for your attention all night!" leah pouted making you crack a smile.

"well you know i'm going home with you at the end of the night babe, and we both know once you have a couple drinks you won't be able to keep your hands to yourself anyway." you teased, leaning over the console to bridge the gap and press your lips to hers.

a few more sweet assurances and kisses later and you were walking into the bar where the girls and some of their loved ones were, leah taking your hand once you were inside and leading you down the back to where they all were, having booked it out for some privacy for them all post game.

a symphony of cheers sounding as the pair of you arrived you felt yourself become a little flustered as suddenly you were rushed by a small crowd of girls who leah shooed away.

instead taking you around to everyone one by one and introducing you, her hand never leaving your waist the entire time as her thumb traced gentle circles into your hip.

finally rounding to the final little group, most of whom you'd met in passing once or twice but again never officially as leahs girlfriend like she announced you now, the title still giving you the warm and fuzzies as you were pulled into a few hugs.

leah stopped the introductions for a moment when her eyes fell on an unfamiliar girl, beth quickly taking over and introducing her friend with an unreadable look flashed leahs way.

leah quickly realized why she was unfamiliar, this was beths friend from new york who to be fair beth had been discussing coming to visit her at training for the last few weeks but leah had only half tuned in, mind as always wandering to you most times it wasn't occupied by football.

hearing the name your chest tightened as you were now able to put two and two together, a gentle squeeze of leahs arm around your waist all you needed to settle again.

"i'm really sorry about what happened, i wasn't in the right space for dates but it was a dick move to just ghost you." the girl addressed leah with a wince who waved it off.

"don't be, if you hadn't we'd never have wound up together." leah was surprised to hear you speak up as your arm hugged her torso and you sent the girl a smile, leahs own lips curling into amusement as she pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

"you two are adorable, i'm really glad things worked out an you found one another." the girl spoke sincerely and gave the pair of you a slightly awkward smile before she stepped away.

"sorry." beth winced guiltily at the defender before pulling you into another hug and warning leah she'd be stealing you a little later as your girlfriend pulled your back into her front protectively with a playful glare.

"i think...is that, you're looking a bit green babe? maybe with envy?" leahs hands fell either side of your face as she looked you over and you smacked her chest withholding a smile.

"you know its quite hot when you get a little possessive baby girl." leah gave you a wolfish grin. "well i only take after you my love, jealousy should be your middle name. need i bring up last weekend for example?" you smiled knowingly, fingers tracing her collarbone.

"he was all over you! i had every right." leah scowled instantly at the mention of the incident which had her dragging you away from a party you'd attended together for one of your siblings birthdays, leah spending the entire night afterwards showing you just how much you really were hers, worshiping your body for hours on end in every which way.

"you doin alright though babe?" leah murmured seriously, taking you aside into a more secluded corner as her eyes roamed over your face for any sign of discomfort.

"i'm good. might need a little help with everyones names for the first couple of hours but i'm good i promise, i'm glad we're finally doing this baby. i love you!" you puckered your lips as leah grinned and gave you what you want, echoing those three words back in between.

lost in the feeling of leahs lips on yours you didn't realise you'd gathered an audience, most of the girls watching on happily seeing how loved up the two of you were, others whispering teasing remarks about the blonde and just how smitten she was.

"oi lovebirds! your turn at pool, you can lock lips after we've kicked your asses."

#woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso community #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #woso imagine #woso blurbs #engwnt

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little-silly-bear · 1 year

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How to bond with your stuffies

Hi kiddos! As you know stuffies are my special interests and I loved them since I can remember, my first stuffie was a tiny polar bear and I would never forget him. I thought that maybe I could share how I bond with mine, let me know if you like these tips and if you have more feel free to share it in the comments!

Pick the stuffie that you feel an instant connection with! I used to buy tons of stuffies just for aesthetic or to fill my room with them as a compulsive result of anxiety but when I stopped and I selected those that I felt connected with everything got better. Take it as choosing friends, having less sometimes it's better because you'll have more deep relationship

If you have stuffies that you never play with or don't feel a connection anymore, donate them! They'll be happy to be forever friends with kids that don't have much, kiss them in the head and send them to their mission, they'll be grateful of your kindness!

Now if you have a stuffie that you share a special connection with make a list for them, likes and Dislikes, favorite seasons, favorite foods, their dreams and their story before finding you! This will help you connect with them more and they'll feel seen by you!

Sleep with them for at least a week (I say a week because I rotate my stuffies to not make them jealous) they'll feel safe and important to you! If you don't have space you can make a mini bed next to yours using a shoe box and a blanket!

Understand their purpose! Every stuffie has a purpose, some are here to protect you from bad thoughts, others from nightmares and anxiety, others are here to help you stim, the possibilities are endless! Make a space in your journal with purposes and jobs and organize it with your stuffies! They're happy to help!

Include them in your life! I know that is not always possible but when you can you should try! Watching TV together, walking outside, baking cookies, having breakfast, Cartoons time, Sunday bath time, everything is a good opportunity to bond, they would love to be included give it a try!

Dress them! Sometimes they need to feel pampered too! You can buy some clothes for them or you can add glasses or a friendship bracelet! If you can't do any of these things just cleaning them and then brushing their fur would be an amazing act of love! Taking care of things is how we show love!

That's it for today! I hope you liked this post and if you have more ideas please please pleaseeeee share in the comments so I can use them too!! Have a fantastic day kiddos, I send you a big warm hug!!!

Remember that you CAN like and reblog but you CAN'T repost even with credits or use the tag #mine under this post!

#agere #sfw agere #age regression #ageregression #agere community #cglre #cglre community #mine #age regression community #agedre #agedre community #kidzspace #babyzspace #toddlerzspace

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 10 months

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Comet Donati [Chapter 3: Steal My Girl]

A/N: Hello lovely readers! Thank you so so so much for the love this fic has received. I wanted to give you a heads up that I will be co-leading a field trip to Japan from July 4th-14th and will therefore have much less time to write. HOPEFULLY I won’t have to skip a Sunday update, but I wanted to make you aware just in case. I hope you enjoy Chapter 3!!! 💜

Series Summary: Sex, drugs, boy bands. You are a kinda-therapist recruited (via nepotism) to help Comet Donati through a recent crisis. Things are casual with Aegon, very not-casual with Aemond. Loosely inspired by One Direction.

Chapter Warnings: Language, references to sexual content (18+), drugs, alcohol, smoking, mental health struggles, Aegon-induced chaos, ANGST, Iceland, you cannot escape the Cookie Monster pajama pants.

Selected Chapter Quote: “So what, you don’t like me anymore?”

Word count: 8.3k (wtf I need to chill).

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Taglist: @doingfondue @catalina-howard @randomdragonfires @myspotofcraziness @arcielee @fan-goddess @talesofoldandnew @marvelescvpe @tinykryptonitewerewolf @mariahossain @chainsawsangel @darkenchantress @not-a-glad-gladiator @gemini-mama @trifoliumviridi @herfantasyworldd @babyblue711 @namelesslosers @thelittleswanao3 @daenysx @moonlightfoxx @libroparaiso @burningcoffeetimetravel-fics @mizfortuna @florent1s @heimtathurs @bhanclegane @poohxlove @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @heavenly1927 @mariahossain @echos-muses @padfooteyes @minttea07

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist! 💜

Athens, Madrid, Porto, Vienna, Stockholm, and now: descending into Reykjavik through clouds like iron. The North Atlantic is an endless sheen of cold overcast blue, a mirror of the sky. The earth is rocky and anemic. There are no jewel tones here, no sapphires or emeralds or aquamarines or fire opals or topazes. It is impossible to look down at Iceland, this dominion of impassionate jaggedness, and not think of how the Vikings had to reap their treasures from every other corner of Europe, silver and gold and glass and slaves piled into ships to be rowed back to the hostile earth they clung to, perhaps just to prove they could.

Across the aisle of the private jet—more like a penthouse than a plane, posh neutral colors and hand-stitched leather—Luke is showing Aemond his latest lyrics, loops of silver on matte black pages. They’re good, from what you’ve heard. They’re really good. And that tells you what kind of person Aemond truly is as he helps Luke polish rocks into gemstones. Anybody can soften the blow of mediocrity. It takes courage to build ladders for people who might one day outclimb you.

Daeron is playing his Nintendo 64, which is hooked up to a 98-inch flat screen tv; Mario is leaping through paintings into worlds of lava, ice, sentient ticking bombs. Criston is answering emails. Cregan is sprawled across a couch with his sunglasses on, presumably sound asleep. Jace is leering at you, dark hair hanging in his face and slurping a Vesper.

You ask him half-mocking: “What tattoo are you going to get for Reykjavik?”

He yanks off his sequined red blazer—nothing underneath, as usual—and twists around to show you the puffin on his left shoulder blade. Comet, at some point in time that preceded you, has already been to Iceland. “Cute, right? Wanna pet it?”

You roll your eyes. “I’m sorry I asked.”

He grins. “No you’re not.”

Aegon kicks the back of Jace’s chair. He’s scribbling some notes of his own, which is unusual. In place of a spiral notebook with onyx pages, Aegon is writing on crinkled Starbucks receipts with a Sharpie. He’s wearing his favorite aviator sunglasses, khaki cargo pants, an excessively bright cyan tank top, and matching Crocs.

Baela stares blankly out the window for a few seconds—like she’s buffering, a lagging connection—and then she looks to you hopefully. “Shopping when we land?”

“Does Iceland have shops…?”

“Probably more than Kansas,” Aemond says, then smiles mischieviously.

“Missouri,” you fling back. He returns his attention to Luke.

“They totally have shops in Iceland,” Baela assures you.

“Then I am amenable. I need more concert outfits.” You mostly wear your boy band t-shirts from home, which has become a joke: One Direction, Backstreet Boys, New Kids On The Block, NSYNC, the Jonas Brothers, Boyz II Men, 98 Degrees, BTS…but never Comet Donati. Anyone but them. Aegon calls you a traitor. Aemond teases, smirks, tries to hide how much he watches you the same way people contemplate art on museum walls, a little confounded, a little entranced.

“Rhaena?” Baela says. “Hello? Hello? Hola? Bonjour? Rhaena?”

Rhaena startles, peering up from her novel: Jurassic Park. Once upon a time, as you’ve learned, she had planned to study paleontology. She wants to be alone in the middle of a field someplace digging up bones. Well, no great tragedy there; one is never too old to be a paleontologist. She can take off five years, or ten years, or twenty, or thirty to see Luke through his touring days and then pick back up her own ambitions like keys left on a hook. But Baela gave up a ballet scholarship to follow Jace across the globe, puddle to puddle, land to land, and in your albeit limited understanding, ballerinas age in something like dog years. Their career is a brilliant, lightning-brief flash and then long, anonymous decades running out their mortal clock as choreographers, backup dancers, personal trainers, instructors for blue-blooded five-year-olds. Baela won’t be able to reclaim that dream for much longer. It might be too late already. She is out of practice; but she misses ballet. When Jace is being snide or oblivious, you’ve seen her gazing out windows—Escalades, hotels, jets—wondering if it was all worth it. You gut yourself for someone and they don’t even have the courtesy to put up a gravestone. It’s only natural to develop a propensity to haunt.

“What?” Rhaena asks.

“Shopping. This afternoon. Interested?”

Rhaena’s eyes go wide. She fidgets: closing and then opening her book, touching a hand to her earrings, delicate strings of small silver hearts. “Um…I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Oh, not this again,” Baela groans.

“Just go without me. Bring me back something, you know what I like.”

“What’s the problem?” You are investigative but not accusatory. The tone is essential.

“She’s scared of store employees,” Baela says.

“Well you don’t have to make it sound like that—!”

“What’s so scary about store employees?” you ask Rhaena, calm, cool, collected, nonjudgmental. Aemond glances over, as he often does when you’re working, like he can’t get enough of watching that switch flip, when you slink covertly into therapist mode like a water moccasin weaves through swamps, subtle ripples in the muddied water and vigilant eyes.

“I just hate it when people are watching me,” Rhaena says, twirling an earring. “They’re always waiting right by the door—especially at the posh places like the ones Baela goes to—and they want to know what I’m shopping for, and they want to make suggestions, and they follow me to the fitting room and ask what I like and what I don’t. And I can’t get rid of them! Even if I’m like ‘Just looking, thanks!’ they’ll circle back every five minutes to check on me. I can’t stand it. I get so frazzled I can’t decide how I really feel about a skirt or dress or whatever because I’m too busy trying to make conversation with someone I don’t want to talk to anyway. I end up with a headache and a shopping bag full of regrets. I’d rather click a button on my MacBook Air and save myself the suffering.”

You nod sagely. “What is it about talking to the employees that stresses you out so much?”

“I don’t want to say or do the wrong thing. I don’t want to cause problems.”

“But it’s not like you’re going to do anything they haven’t experienced before. They see hundreds, maybe even thousands of customers a month. And even if you did something ridiculously, dementedly embarrassing, like…um…hey, Aegon, what’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done while clothes shopping?”

“I fell asleep in a fitting room. I pissed on the floor. I set something on fire. I vandalized One Direction merchandise.”

“No, there was that other time,” Daeron says. Mario is swimming through rings of underwater coins; they chime gleefully as he collects them.

“What other time?” Aegon says.

Daeron grins. “Come on. You know.”

Aegon remembers. “Oh yeah. Once I bit a girl’s feet until I accidentally ripped off part of a toenail and she bled everywhere. But that wasn’t my fault. She was begging for it. It was consensual.”

Criston, not looking away from his emails, says: “And that’s why Aegon is now banned from all Michael Kors locations for life.”

“Right.” You turn back to Rhaena. “So you would never do anything that deranged. But even if somehow you did, what’s the actual worst-case scenario? What, realistically, could happen as a result?”

Rhaena considers this. “The employees will think I’m weird, I guess.”

“So what you’re so concerned about is that the store employees—who are literally paid to be inconvenienced by you—might think you’re weird? Which they’ll remember for, what, maybe an hour before some other customer gives them a more memorable calamity to focus on? You don’t think they’re more annoyed by purse-dog-toting heiresses screeching at them or cokeheads pissing on their floors?”

“Rude,” Aegon says.

Rhaena smiles guiltily. “I mean, when you put it that way, it does sound stupid.”

“Not stupid,” you insist. “Just out of proportion.”

“Okay,” Rhaena says. She takes a deep breath, steeling herself. “Okay. I guess I’ll go shopping.”

“Yes!” Baela cheers, already scrolling through Reykjavik shops on her iPhone.

“Hey, Stargirl,” Aegon says, and then hurls something at you like a frisbee. It’s an Amex Black Card.

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “What’s my budget?”

“No budget. As long as it’s slutty.”

“I will buy nothing but cardigans and mom jeans.” You crane your neck to peek at his receipts. The black Sharpie squiggles aren’t words; they’re shapes, pictures. “What are you drawing?”

“New merch designs!” Aegon holds up the receipts so you can see.

“Circles…?”

He is somewhat wounded. “Donuts!”

You don’t even know where to begin. “Why donuts, Aegon?”

“Because that’s his code word for doing lines in the bathroom,” Criston says.

“No!” Aegon objects. “Because Donati sounds like donuts! So we could have all these mini donuts, print them on hats or shirts or whatever, and then in the frosting where the sprinkles would be we can put tiny stars, suns, moons, planets, galaxies…and comets, obviously.”

Jace scoffs. “I think you spend a little too much time thinking about donuts.”

Aegon goes quiet. So does everyone else. Gazes flit nervously around the cabin. The only sounds are the roar of the jet and Mario 64, although Daeron has turned his back on the cheerful Italian protagonist and is looking pensively over his shoulder at Jace. Aegon resumes sketching his cosmic Sharpie donuts, his lips pressed tightly together.

“Hey,” you say to Jace, and then once you have his attention, wicked dark eyes: “Shut the fuck up.”

“What?”

“It’s a great idea. It’s a really adorable idea, actually. Let’s see you come up with something better. Go on, whenever you’re ready. I’m waiting. I’m still waiting. But you’re not much of an ideas guy, are you, Jace? Fortunately, you’ve always had other people around to pull that weight.”

Jace opens his mouth to say something, then snaps it shut as Cregan stands up. He towers over you both, as tall as Aemond but more muscly all over, in the chest and the shoulders and the legs. He lowers his sunglasses to show his eyes: greyish, cold, flinty. He glares at Jace, and then at you, and then at Jace again. Jace holds up both hands, showing his palms. You bow your head in capitulation. Cregan lies back down on the couch and repositions his sunglasses just as the pilot turns on the fasten seatbelts signs. As you click yours into place, you exchange a glance with Aemond across the aisle. He is smiling, foxlike and approving, as if he can’t wait to see what else you have left to show him.

“So!” Baela says. “Guess who found a shop in Reykjavik that sells Gucci!”

The jet glides through mist and fog to make a rather bumpy landing at Keflavik International Airport, fighting against gusts of wind coming in off the North Atlantic Ocean, the same water that swallowed the Titanic, the Faucett Peru Boeing 727, the Free Life hot air balloon, whaling vessels and Viking longships, countless cruisers and destroyers and submarines that blasted holes into each other during the world wars. As the band prepares to disembark, Aemond reaches into the front pocket of his shirt—black, with white circling koi fish—and slides out a pair of sunglasses. He doesn’t like wearing them. They limit his vision even more than it already is. But he never walks into an airport without sunglasses on, you’ve discovered. Just in case paparazzi are there snapping photos.

“You don’t have to do that,” you tell Aemond.

He gestures to his scar and his blind eye, a pale cloudy blue. “I’ve thought about just getting it cut out. But then I’d have to worry about shoving in a fake one.”

“I think it’s kind of beautiful,” you say. “It reminds me of Neptune or something.”

And the look he gives you, the look, like he’s never heard anything like this before, like he didn’t know that words could fit together in that order. You hold out your hand to him. He lays the sunglasses in your palm. You put them on, grinning up at him.

“Now I’m the one who looks like a multi-millionaire popstar.”

“Hey, we match!” Aegon says as he follows you and Aemond out of the jet, massaging your shoulders and clopping noisily in his Crocs.

There are paparazzi at the airport, but only two of them, young men in black hoodies who dart around loosing flashes into the stuffy, aggressively heated air. Jace, Baela, Daeron, and Aegon beam and wave, radiant, magnetic, born celebrities. Rhaena smiles politely but hides behind Luke. Cregan saunters and smolders, knowing exactly what his devotees expect from him. Criston and the security guards are loaded up with suitcases like pack mules. The paparazzi don’t pay much attention to Aemond—a former heartthrob, a cracked relic, a fossil or a ruin—but one of them snaps a few pictures of him. Aemond turns his face so they’ll get his good side, his unmarred side…and then he grabs for your hand. You try not to reveal how ecstatic you are, how wildly, uncoolly, over-the-moon thrilled. Your expression might end up commemorated forever in a tabloid, after all.

Shopping in Reykjavik is mostly wool sweaters, hiking boots, and weather-proof jackets, but Baela leads you and Rhaena to a boutique that carries something more her speed: Gucci, Burberry, Balenciaga, Valentino, Saint Laurent. You and Baela try to distract the employees as much as possible; still, they find time to nettle Rhaena with those bothersome, predictable, unnecessary questions. She gets a little flustered, but she fights the instinct to run and hide, to allow herself to sink into a frenetic puddle of self-inquisition. You can almost see the words scrolling behind her dark gentle eyes like a news ticker: They get paid to help me. They aren’t going to remember any of this in a few hours. I’m not on a stage. I’m not being judged.

In the fitting room, you take two selfies to send to Aemond’s WhatsApp account: one in a flowing neon yellow gown, the other in a short, velvet, sparkly black dress embroidered with silver stars.

You ask: Day or night?

He answers before you’ve changed back into your jeans and pink Harry Styles hoodie. Night, obviously. And then he adds: Which constellation are you? Vulpecula the fox? Cygnus the swan?

“God, he’s such a dork,” you murmur to yourself, smiling. You have to think for a while before you reply. You don’t know many constellations; that makes it difficult to rattle off something witty. Then you are inspired. You type: Definitely not Virgo :)

He responds immediately: :)))))

“What does that mean?” you whisper to yourself in the solitude of the boxlike fitting room. “What the hell does that mean???” He spends nearly all of his time with you, but he rarely touches you. He’s never made a move. He’s never even kissed you. You wouldn’t mind if he did. No, fuck the coyness that women are supposed to cloak themselves in to preserve their worth. You’re waiting for him to kiss you like someone drowning waits for a gasp of air.

Despite Aemond’s vote, you can’t help yourself. You buy both dresses. You don’t look much like an Aegon Targaryen, but the cashier doesn’t seem too troubled by this. Baela and Rhaena are still trying on outfits, so you swing your bag around boredly and wander over to see what Criston is up to. At Aemond’s insistence, he accompanied you on this shopping expedition and left the rest of the security detail back at the Reykjavik EDITION, a luxury hotel overlooking the harbor. Criston is in the jewelry section and holding up a medallion necklace, rotating it to see how the light reflects off the speckling of tiny gemstones, the wise golden face. His own face is distant and melancholy.

“Oh, that’s lovely, Criston!” you say. “All those emeralds. Who’s pictured on it?”

“Saint Jude. Lost causes.”

Interesting. “Are you religious?”

“Not especially. But Alicent is.”

“Who…?”

Criston walks off to the cash register. You watch him go, curious and perplexed.

Back at the hotel, you enter your suite to find a blond Targaryen lounging in your bed…but perhaps not the right one. Aegon still has his Crocs on and is, for some reason, clutching a plushie puffin. He glances over at you, noting your shopping bag.

“Fashion show?” he says. “I hope it’s nothing but miniskirts and bikinis.”

“Don’t you have places to be? Substances to snort?”

“Cregan is currently trying to locate some.”

“That’s really not good for you. Physically or mentally. You might be addicted.”

He barks a laugh, like it’s absurd. “You can’t get addicted to coke, Stargirl.”

“You definitely can.”

He suddenly looks panicked, like he’s never considered this before.

“So.” You hesitate. “Aemond.”

“Yes, I’m familiar with the concept.”

“He’s insecure. Very insecure, though he’s learned how to hide it.”

Aegon throws and catches the puffin, bouncing it off the ceiling. “I wouldn’t disagree.”

“It goes deeper than the accident, I think. The scar, his eye, what happened with the band…that awakened it again. That freed something that he’d had locked away. But where did it start?”

Aegon stares up at the ceiling. He tosses the puffin a few more times, abusing it terribly. “Whoever you are when you’re in high school…that’s sort of who you are forever, you know? If you’re popular and beloved and understood, you carry a certain self-confidence into the rest of your life with you like a suitcase. It’s an assumption that people care about what you have to say. It’s a conviction of your own value. It’s a presupposition the world would have to wrestle away from you. But if you’re a loser in high school, that stays with you too. And it’s one hell of a heavy suitcase to lug around.”

You try to imagine seeing Aemond through eyes that aren’t awed, craving, quietly adoring. It’s simply not possible. “He was alone?” you ask softly, dreading the answer.

“I had friends. He had grudges.” Aegon’s mouth twists as he tries to stop it from trembling. “My father…”

“I know, Aegon.” Your voice is gentle. “You told me in Kansas City, that night at the bar. You don’t have to say it again.”

He is relieved. “Yeah. So people respond to that in different ways, right? I lived in the present. I talked to anybody who would listen to me, and I partied and I got high and I got laid, and I was the antithesis of the kind of son my father would have wanted just to spite him. Aemond escaped into the past. He read books, traced bloodlines, collected old obsolete things. Maybe that gave him hope that a better place was waiting for him out there somewhere, a better time. He got to be cool for three years. That’s it, and that’s all he’ll ever have. He was the one with vision. He said he was going to audition for The X Factor, and I only went with him to meet girls. Then he made it through the first round and I did too. And when they were going to cut us, he found Jace and Luke and Cregan and convinced everyone to start performing together. The show wanted to replace Luke, did you know that? They thought he was too boyish, too innocent. Aemond fought for him. And then Comet finished in second place, and all the sudden we were signed to a label, and we were selling millions of records and we were touring, and we were winning Grammys, and we were buying our parents and siblings houses…and two months after our third album came out, Aemond was maimed at the Budokan and it was time for him to get off the ride.”

You stare at Aegon, tremendously sad, not knowing what to say. Sometimes the right words don’t exist.

Aegon smirks. “He really likes you.”

“Maybe.” And then, with guileless vulnerability: “I hope so.”

“That’s dangerous.”

Your brow knits into fearful grooves. “Why?”

“I know how to enjoy something without owning it. I don’t think Aemond does.”

You don’t want to ask, but you have to. “What was Shelby like?”

Aegon considers this for a long time before he answers. “She was simultaneously too good for him and not good enough.”

Too gorgeous. Too cool. Too Pinterest-board perfect, airy like summer. But not deep. A river, a glimmer, but with no understanding of the abyss. You aren’t sure how you know that this is what Aegon means, but you do. You don’t want to think about Shelby anymore. You pivot. “So Aemond is the past and you’re the present. Who’s the future? Daeron?”

Aegon smiles, lazy and warm. “I think you’re the future.”

“Yeah right. Get your Crocs off my bed.”

He complies, groaning, flopping onto the floor gracelessly.

“Where’d you get the puffin?”

“Some Icelandic kid recognized me in the elevator. He wanted to give me a present. In return, I signed an autograph and got him and his dad front row seats to the show tomorrow. So I’d say it was a very favorable exchange for him.”

“You’re a saint,” you say, and then find yourself thinking randomly of Saint Jude again. Lost causes. Lost causes.

Aegon grins at you as he crawls to his feet and makes for the door. “Patron saint of mayhem.”

~~~~~~~~~~

You’re watching old Comet Donati performances on YouTube when the hotel fire alarm goes off. And it’s strange, because the unscarred, clear-eyed boy on the screen is Aemond but also isn’t him; he smiles more easily, he looks at people without suspicion, he is ebullient and confident and carefree like kids blowing bubbles on front porches. When you open your suite door, dressed in your favorite Cookie Monster pajama pants and an oversized New Kids On The Block t-shirt, Aemond is just arriving.

“Oh good,” he says. “You’re still awake.” And then he walks with you to the nearest stairwell.

Outside, the hotel guests are clustered together with their travel companions, shuddering under coats and sweaters and blankets clasped around their shoulders like capes. Even at the start of July, Iceland is cold: fifties during the day as Americans like you measure in Fahrenheit, forties at night, nearly always overcast. It’s 11 p.m., but the sun won’t set until midnight, and even then only for a few short hours; the sky is wearing the colors of dusk, lilac, rose pink, pale blue, fire and gold. You’re shivering, rubbing your bare forearms and feeling the goosebumps that have risen there like braille. Aemond tugs off his black and white Calvin Klein hoodie and offers it to you. As you pull it over your head, you breathe in the pieces of him that have snared in the fabric: smoke and cologne, gin and soap and the brine of the seaside air. Now wearing only his jeans and his koi fish shirt, Aemond lights a cigarette and gazes up at the hotel, postmodern angles and semi-transparent glass.

“No one’s going to give me a hoodie?” Aegon says, quaking in his cyan tank top. Criston reluctantly unzips his bomber jacket and hands it over.

“Did you do this?” Criston asks him, meaning the fire alarm.

“What?! No! No way, man! It wasn’t me!”

Criston turns to Cregan for confirmation. Cregan shrugs, ambiguous. “I knew it!” Criston exclaims. He is distraught.

Several fire engines arrive, red lights strobing, and firefighters enter the hotel to investigate. Baela and Jace are standing near each other but not speaking, arms crossed, faces tense. Luke, Rhaena, and Daeron are watching an episode of The Crown on Luke’s iPhone. Cregan lights a cigarette and manages to take two drags before Criston notices and lunges to bat it out of his hand.

“Stop it!” Criston orders. “You’ll ruin your voice!” Nobody tells Aemond not to smoke. His voice doesn’t matter anymore.

Aegon asks you, his hands buried in the pockets of Criston’s jacket: “Would you run into a burning building to save me?”

“Why would you be in a burning building?”

“That’s really not the point.”

“I’d think about it.”

Luke says, the glow of his iPhone dancing across his face: “Wow, Prince Charles is a bitch.”

“You’d think about it?” Aegon says to you. “You’d think about it?!”

“You have no excuse to be in a burning building. You have now experienced an evacuation, you know exactly how to leave a building successfully, if you’re still in it for some reason then that’s your problem.”

“You hear that, Criston?” Aegon says. “This is a good thing. Now everyone knows what to do if there’s a real fire! And we’re in hotels all the time, so this is super helpful!”

“Please shut up,” Criston begs.

“Hey Cregan, share with the class, what did you learn about fire safety from this fortuitous occasion?”

“I already knew what to do.”

Aegon is grinning. “Yeah? What’s that, Cregan?”

“Get in the shower and wait for the fire department to come rescue me.”

Everyone laughs—even Jace and Baela—and Cregan’s lips quirk up in one corner, the only hint that he is joking. A parade of firefighters exit the hotel. One of them is carrying a toaster. Black smoke pours out of the slits in the top.

She says something in Icelandic that you can’t understand, then repeats in English: “Who was trying to cook hotdogs in a toaster?”

The guests chatter incredulously among themselves: Who would do such a thing?

You, Aemond, Luke, Rhaena, Daeron, Cregan, Jace, Baela, and Criston are mindful to look anywhere except at Aegon. You gaze out at the horizon, the kaleidoscopic midnight sun. Aegon peers down at his Crocs, hair tangled and blue eyes wide.

“Very well,” the firefighter with the toaster says, a little smugly. “We will consult with the hotel staff and see which guest was registered to that room.”

“Goddammit!” Criston hisses, and shoves by the band to go meet the firefighters. You can’t hear what’s being said, but his hands move in exaggerated gestures of humiliation, apology, restitution. Fortunately, the Icelandic people seem to be forgiving.

Daeron turns to Aegon. All he says is: “Why?”

“I couldn’t figure out the buttons on the stove!”

Criston comes trudging back to the band. Guests are being admitted into the hotel to return to their drinks, their television shows and mystery novels, their families, their lovers, their beds. “Alright, it’s taken care of. Go to your rooms. All of you, right now, go.”

No one has the heart to argue with him; he looks half-broken already. Everybody disperses. You and Aemond end up alone together as the elevator zooms to the fifth floor. He takes his small, square metal lighter out of his jeans pocket and toys with it, repeatedly flicking the lid open and then shutting it again.

You point to it. “Vintage lighter. Vintage bike. And yet you write with glittery gel pens instead of quills and ink. Poser.”

“I like old things,” he says, smiling. “I think history is important.”

And you hear Aegon’s words like an echo: That’s dangerous. You start pulling off Aemond’s hoodie to give it back to him.

“No,” he says, sounding pleased. “You keep it.” So you do, finding excuses to bring the sleeves close to your face—touching your hair, your lips, your eyelashes—so you can inhale him.

Aemond leaves you at the door of your suite, but you don’t go inside. You wait for another five minutes until Criston steps out of an elevator and into the hallway, alone and agitated. Still, he has concern to spare for you.

“You okay? Locked yourself out?”

“No. I was just hoping to ask you something.”

“Go ahead.” Criston is tired, but his eyes, dark like fertile earth, are attentive.

“When Aemond was hurt…when the label yanked him out of Comet…no one fought for him?”

“Luke did,” Criston says.

And then he continues down the hall, shoulders low, a man troubled by both the past and the future.

~~~~~~~~~~

The Blue Lagoon is like Aemond’s sightless left eye: a milky blue, opaque, something you could drown in. The band spends several hours splashing and wading in water warmer than the blood in your veins. The white silica mud that forms the floor is soft beneath your bare feet, squishing between your toes; people spread it over their skin like a skin shedding its scales in reverse. Criston orders strawberry-banana smoothies from the in-water bar, trying to distract Aegon and Jace from the beer and the wine. Currently, Comet’s most worrisome performers are locked in combat: Daeron is on Aegon’s shoulders, Luke on Jace’s, entangled in a spirited chicken fight. This is much preferable to their first choice, Marco Polo, which led to Jace ‘accidentally’—and repeatedly—bumping into various early-twenties female tourists, whereupon he would inevitably profusely apologize, introduce himself, and pose for selfies, beads of turbid mineral water dripping from his curls. Cregan has drifted to the other side of the lagoon, floating on his back and basking beneath the overcast midday sun.

“I can’t believe they made everyone shower naked before getting in here,” Rhaena says, drinking her smoothie, submerged in rippling blue up to her collarbones. She had nearly refused to go through with it—I’ll wait in the car! I’ll be fine! I’ll just watch The Crown on my phone for three hours!—until you and Baela offered to hold up your towels to shield her from view and insisted that none of the other guests (all female, as the showers are sorted by gender) were paying attention. Nudity is not a big deal in Iceland. It’s quite a far cry from Missouri.

“You gotta honor the local culture, babe.” Baela flashes Rhaena a teasing grin. “Scandinavians are super progressive. No shame about bodies or relationships. Very sex-positive.”

“Well Jace is certainly blending in.”

Now Baela isn’t grinning anymore. She frowns broodingly out over the lagoon. Rhaena, regretting that she said it but knowing it can’t be taken back, noisily slurps at her smoothie even when it’s gone. You and Aemond exchange an uncomfortable glance. Baela has never broached the topic of her relationship with you, but you know it’s coming. You can sometimes see her working up the nerve like a bucket filling with water, drop by drop.

You change the subject. “See, Rhaena? The naked shower thing wasn’t even that bad. It was over in two minutes, and absolutely nobody was judging you. And if you hadn’t done it, you would have missed out on this amazing experience!”

“You weren’t nervous?” she asks you. “Not at all?”

“I little bit, yeah. Of course. I’m an American.” Everyone chuckles. “But logically, I knew no one would really be watching me. I’m not that interesting. And also…I wasn’t truly naked.”

“Huh…?”

You wiggle your eyebrows and, smiling radiantly, spin around and point to the black-ink tattoo between your shoulder blades, underscored by the straps of your swimsuit that cross just below it: a comet with a streaming tail, lyrics that Aemond dreamed up in a kinder world. Rhaena laughs.

“Oh, right, of course.”

“You are obsessed with that thing!” Baela says, but she sounds relatively happy again.

“It’s true. I am. I admit it.” Sometimes you find yourself staring at it in hotel bathroom mirrors still foggy with steam, wiping away condensation to marvel at the irrevocable ways in which Aemond has marked you, ways you are thankful cannot be erased. When you wear anything that reveals your upper back like a spilled secret, you often catch Aemond gazing at it too. Now he reaches over and skims a fingerprint along the circle that his lyrics form around the comet:

I’ll come back for you if it kills me

Comets clip by again after eons and so can I

There’s a jolt down your spine like lightning, but more eager than jarring. All other thoughts vanish from you. You look over at Aemond, and he looks back, his lips slightly parted, his right eye beckoning to you. And you know it will be good with him, if it happens, when it happens. It will be more than good. It will be laced with an intensity, with a dire breed of necessity that you’ve never tasted before. All at once, you and Aemond realize what you’ve done and drift away from each other again, weakening gravity, elliptical orbits.

“No shame, guys,” Baela quips, raising her smoothie glass in a toast. “Sex-positive, remember?”

After the 45-minute drive back to Reykjavik, and after the concert, the band coalesces in Jace’s suite. There aren’t many hangers-on for this stop of the tour; Reykjavik is isolated and peaceful and not particularly desirable for friends of convenience who are more interested in clubbing and drugs than camaraderie. You wouldn’t trade nights like this for anything in the world.

Aemond is reading off his latest notes, white ink on black paper, stars on the backdrop of the universe. A Benson & Hedges cigarette smolders between two fingers on his left hand. Smoke curls up around his face. “Aegon, you were three steps behind the choreography for basically the entire show.”

“Yeah, that was on purpose.”

“It wasn’t,” Aemond counters, but he can’t help but smile.

“Women love a tragic disaster of a man who is screaming to be fixed.”

“Daeron,” Aemond continues. “I really like that hair flip you’ve started doing…”

Aegon is knocking back dark glass bottles of Gædingur Stout and slurring, very drunk and sinking deeper by the minute. In the absence of coke, he has resorted to other crutches. You are squeezed between Aemond and Baela on one of the couches. And Aemond isn’t really touching you, but he also is: the delicious subtle pressure of his thigh against yours, occasional nudges of his elbow, ostensibly unintentional grazes of knuckles and palms. He’s drinking his usual, a Bramble, and so are you, swirls of slow-moving pink like drops of blood in open water. And you think in a hazy bliss like listening to ground-level conversations from the bottom of a swimming pool: Tonight, tonight, tonight, he’s going to come back to my room with me tonight.

“Oh great,” you mumble as you check your Facebook messages on your iPhone.

“What’s wrong?” Rhaena asks. She’s nestled against Luke on the opposite couch, twirling locks of his hair around her benign, delicate fingers. Jace is sitting beside Luke, drinking a Vesper and trying not to make eye contact with Baela. Daeron is in the fuzzy white sheepskin lounge chair, Cregan perched on a bar stool, Criston standing watchfully with a vivid green bottle of Perrier in one hand. When he briefly steps out onto the balcony to take a call from the label, you can hear only the most dim, indistinct murmurings through the thick tinted glass, sounds but not words. Aegon is sitting—and occasionally crawling around—on the floor. The Backstreet Boys’ I Want It That Way is playing.

“I’m subletting my apartment in Kansas City and there is a strict no pet policy. But my neighbors snitched on the new tenant and apparently she’s got a Flemish Giant rabbit living there with her.”

“Not even a normal rabbit,” Baela muses. “A giant rabbit.”

You sigh. “All the rugs are going to be chewed up by the time I get back.” And Aemond glances over anxiously, like he doesn’t want any reminders that you won’t always be around.

“What’s your apartment like?” he says.

“Old. Vintage. Most of it hasn’t been updated since the 1950s. You’d appreciate it, actually. It would match your aesthetic.”

“Maybe I’ll have to see it sometime.”

You smirk at him, flirtatious, baiting, the silver stars on your dress reflecting golden lamplight. “Maybe. If I invite you.”

He leans in to whisper so only you can hear: “You will.”

“I think I’d be a landlord if I wasn’t famous,” Jace says, nursing his Vesper meditatively like an aspiring philosopher. “I’d just sit back and collect the checks as they rolled in. And you get to raise the rent every year.”

“Yeah, that sounds like you,” Aegon says, grinning up at him saccharinely.

“What would you be, Stargirl?” Jace asks; and you realize you hate the sound of him using Aegon’s name for you.

“I mean, a therapist.” And everyone laughs, even Criston.

Jace flushes, brushing his curls back from his face with one hand. “Oh yeah. Clearly.”

You look to Aemond. “You’d be a historian or an archivist or something.”

“Or a writer,” Luke says.

“Maybe,” Aemond agrees, a tad uncomfortable with the attention. “Or an animal activist, maybe. I’d like to do some sort of good in the world.”

Aegon shouts, far more loudly than necessary: “What would you be, Criston?”

“Thousands of miles away from you.” More laughter, riotous; but Criston is smiling a little.

“What about you, Cregan?” Jace asks. “What would you want to be if Comet didn’t exist?”

Cregan downs a shot of Absolut Vodka. “A plastic surgeon.”

“What? Why?”

Cregan shrugs. “You get to see tits all the time.”

There are scandalized squeals and guffaws. Baela says: “I would not let you anywhere near my tits.”

“And not just tits!” Daeron adds brightly. “Don’t they do, what’s it called, vaginal rejuvenation?”

Cregan points at him with his empty shot glass. “Exactly.”

“Oh God, that sounds painful.” Rhaena hides her face behind a flute of champagne.

“Yeah,” you say. “I don’t think I’m interested.”

Aegon snorts, drips of Gaedingur Stout flying from his nose. “Like you’d ever need it. You’ve got a pornstar pussy, fucking gorgeous.”

A hush sweeps through the room like a dust storm. Baffled glances dart around wildly. Immediately, Aegon realizes his mistake. He gazes up at you from the floor with large, glazed, drunken blue eyes that glisten with apology. You gape back, half-furious and half-petrified.

“Wait, what?” Aemond says. Ashes build on his cigarette, forgotten.

“Oh, wow.” Jace gestures from you to Aegon. “You guys…you guys have…?”

“It was once, a long time ago,” you say quickly. “Like, a really long time ago. Over a year ago.”

Aegon is trying to help. “Ages ago. Ancient history.”

“Where? In Kansas City?!” Baela gasps, stunned.

Aegon tells her: “You remember that bar we all went to after the show, right? The one on the roof?”

Baela is blinking at you, not comprehending. “You hooked up with him? In a bar?! Aegon?!”

“Um, yeah.”

Jace brays out a laugh, shaking his head. “Damn, Stargirl. I thought you had better taste than that.”

You feel like you’re fighting for your life. You feel like you can’t breathe. “It really wasn’t serious…” Not the sex part, anyway.

“No, no, it totally wasn’t,” Aegon agrees gamely. “It was like, what? How long were we in that bathroom? Maybe ten minutes total?”

Daeron is giggling. “Bruh, stop roasting yourself!”

As the chatter flies, you hide your face in your hands; beneath your palms, your cheeks are hot. You can feel Aemond pulling away from you, spaces opening up between your thighs and shoulders and arms like the ever-expanding void of the universe. When you steal a glimpse of him through the cracks in your fingers, he is staring down at the floor. He is silent, but you can see the thoughts—the images—riddling him like bullets. You can see him filling up with them like a punctured ship fills with seawater. He smokes until his cigarette is gone, and then immediately lights another.

Luke is the one to mercifully intercede. “Hey, Criston, where are we going next?”

“Uh,” Criston says, trying not to gawk at you or Aegon. “Let me think. Uh. Oh, right. Paris.”

Jace cackles. “The city of love! How appropriate!”

Criston ignores him. “You have some press interviews and then you’re doing two shows at the Accor Arena on July 7th and 8th…”

Aemond gulps down the rest of his Bramble and then walks out onto the balcony, closing the sliding glass door behind him.

“Fuck,” Aegon sighs miserably, then guzzles his Gaedingur Stout.

You bolt off the couch and go after Aemond. The heavy sliding glass door growls as you roll it open and then shut it again. Outside, Reykjavik is cold and windswept. The midnight sun is aflame. It’s still too bright to see the Northern Lights; even if they were there, you would have no way of knowing. Aemond is smoking with his back to you. He’s looking out over the boats bobbing in the harbor, sunbeams glinting on the crests of waves. Flapping gulls swoop and scream.

You say cuttingly, like a surgeon slicing away malignancies: “So what, you don’t like me anymore?”

Aemond flicks ashes over the balcony railing. “I just think I understand you better.”

“What does that mean?”

He whirls to you and says pointedly: “Why are you here?”

A disorienting question. Too easy. “I followed you out onto the balcony.”

“No, here with the band, here in Reykjavik, why are you here?”

You know how the truth sounds, but you can’t rewrite it. “Because Aegon asked me to be.”

“Because he asked you to come fix me, right?” Aemond demands. “To crack open my skull and stir things around until I’m okay with the fact that my life ended seven months ago.”

“No!” you shout into the wind. “I mean, yes, he thought I’d be able to help you, to help Comet, but that’s not what this is about for me anymore—”

“Why would I believe you? You’re a liar, you’re a confirmed liar, why would I believe a single goddamn word of what you have to say?!”

“I didn’t lie to you!”

“Friends!” Aemond roars. He doesn’t touch you, but his rage is horrifying, ageless and deep like lava bubbling beneath tectonic plates. “You said you and Aegon were friends!”

“We are friends—”

“No, you’re not. You met him, you fucked him, and then when he invited you to join the tour you dropped everything to do it, why, because you still want him? And I’m the charity case? Or I was just next in line? Maybe you were planning to work your way through the whole band. Who’s next, Jace? I don’t think he’d object.”

“No—!”

“You and Aegon. And you didn’t even have the guts to tell me.”

“Because I didn’t want to have this conversation, the one where you eviscerate me for something that happened before I even met you!”

“You chose him,” Aemond says, venomous. “At the bar in Kansas City, you chose him.”

“What?! Aemond, I don’t even remember seeing you, I don’t think you were there at all—”

“I was there.” He glares at you, thunderstorms, tornadoes, the earth splitting in two. “Last June. Rooftop bar. String lights. View of the river. I remember it, I was there.”

“Well then you didn’t notice me either and you probably spent the whole night with Pilates princess, Malibu Barbie Shelby, so what’s the fucking point?!”

He glowers at the horizon. Iceland DOES have jewel tones, you think erratically. But they only come out at night, like owls or bats. “It’s different.”

“It’s not different! You’re so convinced people don’t like you that you do insane, irrational things that make people not like you! It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy! It’s a fucking circle, you idiot!”

“I’ve had enough psychoanalysis, thanks.”

“No, you could use some more of it, you could use a lot more, you have so many demons it’s like Paranormal Activity in your brain, they’re in there all day tearing things off the walls and kicking over chairs and sabotaging anything you dare to care about and you let them!”

He turns away from you. “Just go the fuck back to Kansas.”

“I’m from Missouri!”

Aemond pitches the end of his cigarette over the balcony. His good eye flicks to the sliding glass door. The curtains rustle as the faces that hovered there just seconds ago disappear back into the suite. Very muffled through the thick glass, you can hear Criston chastising people.

You ask Aemond, embers in your throat: “This is really something you consider unforgiveable?”

He shakes his head, mournful, violently disappointed. “You’re just a groupie. You’re just a slut.”

Slut. It’s not the word, it’s the way he said it, with dismissiveness, with condemnation, the same way men love to use it as a blade to carve off every other piece of you—kindness, coldness, ferocity, loyalty, wit, passion, talent, triumphs, failures, ghosts—until that one little word is all that’s left. You’re dismantled into a clutter of loose bolts and bent nails. You’re a beef cow that was led into the maze of a gnashing, metal-and-blood processing plant and came out the other side a brainless, raw-pink patty just the right size to fit in a Big Mac box, something to be consumed but not remembered. “What did you say to me?”

He’s staring out into the twilight sky, both hands on the balcony railing. “I can’t believe you. I can’t believe I…”

“Are you kidding me?! I can’t believe I got your lyrics tattooed on my fucking back, what am I supposed to do about that now, rip my own skin off?!”

“So get it covered up. I’m sure Aegon would be thrilled to help you choose a new design, or Jace, or Cregan, or Daeron, or whoever.”

“You know what I think?” you say, caustic like acid.

“Don’t say it,” he threatens, low and dark.

“I think you haven’t fucked anyone since the accident, and you’re terrified to. But you shouldn’t be, Aemond. Because there’s nothing wrong with you. There has never been anything wrong with you.”

But he doesn’t hear that part. He only hears the first thing, what you never should have said at all. It’s true, but that doesn’t mean you should have said it. “I hate you,” he says softly, and you can’t think of a reply. The space between you fills up with wind, cold, dying sunlight. Aemond looks at the sliding glass door. “I don’t want to go back in there.”

“Well, we’re five stories off the ground, so you’ll probably have to.”

He studies the series of balconies that run along this side of the hotel, each separated by perhaps three feet of open air. Then he starts climbing over the metal railing.

“Aemond, don’t!”

But it’s too late. Fortunately, he has long limbs. He scrambles onto the next balcony, and then the one after that, and then one more, until he reaches the balcony for his own suite. He tries the sliding glass door—locked—and then sits down to wait for someone to open it. You go back inside Jace’s suite, where everyone pretends to have been talking about something other than you.

“Where’s Aemond?” Criston says, alarmed.

“He’s on the balcony of his suite. You should go let him in.”

“What?!” Criston yells, and then sprints out into the hallway.

You flee too. Both Baela and Aegon try to stop you, try to talk to you. They’re asking what Aemond said. They’re asking if you’re okay. You tell them you’re fine and that you want to be left alone. They argue. You insist. You walk back to your own room and start packing.

Your suitcase fills up with crumpled clothes and souvenirs: a Colosseum pencil sharpener from Rome, a tiny alabaster Apollo from Athens, a Spanish fighting bull refrigerator magnet from Madrid, handmade soap from Porto, a bar of chocolate from Vienna, a moose snow globe from Stockholm, a silica mud mask from the Blue Lagoon, a tiny stuffed comet that Rhaena crocheted for you. You reach back to touch your fingertips to the comet tattooed over your spine, tears biting in your eyes. If I had told him from the start, would that have made a difference? If I had met him first, would we have had a chance? You are gathering up your makeup when you hear a knock on the doorframe.

Cregan lurks there. When he speaks, he sounds startled; he sounds afraid. “You can’t leave.”

“I’ve literally never had a conversation with you, so thanks for the input but I’m still going.”

“No,” he says, persistent. “You can’t leave.”

“Aemond doesn’t want me here.” Your voice is fragile, shattering. “I can’t help him anymore.”

“It’s not just about Aemond. It’s about everyone. They’re all fucked up. They all need you.”

You stare at Cregan, not understanding. “I really don’t think I’m equipped for this.”

He fixes his cool greyish eyes on you. He is harsh but somehow not unkind. “You would never be able to comprehend where I came from. I’m not going back to that. The band has given me everything. I’m not going to let anyone take that away from me. You have to stay. You have to fix Comet. You can’t leave.”

He watches you, and you watch him, and you aren’t sure who has the upper hand here, who is the predator and who is the prey. Maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe everyone is a patchwork of strengths and deficits, fields of gold strewn with landmines.

At last, you relent. And Cregan doesn’t vanish until you’ve begun taking your souvenirs out of your suitcase and placing each of them—carefully, reverently—back on your nightstand where they were before.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond x y/n #aemond x you #aegon x reader #aegon ii #aegon targaryen ii #Aegon II Targaryen #Aegon Targaryen #aegon x y/n #aegon x you #aemond x reader

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hellishjoel · 3 months

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roll the dice and join the thrill at kylee's casino night! place your bets because the stakes are high and the fun is endless!

the casino will be open from february 1st to february 4th.

come hang and send me an emoji from the slot machine (one request at a time please!)

💎 - physical affection drabble (send me a pedro character (let's keep it to joel miller, javier peña, frankie morales, dieter bravo, or oberyn martell) & a number from this prompt list and I'll write a short drabble!) 🍀 - moodboard (send me a story you'd like me to make a moodboard for! (can be for your own fic, or someone else's!) 🔔 - playlist (send me a character from a tv show or film listed on my about page and I'll list a few songs I think are on their playlist) 💰 - mutuals & movies (hi mutuals! I love you! send me this and I’ll tell you which movie I think you'd be a character in!) 🍒 - smutty drabble (you're here to sin, I like that - send me a pedro character (let's keep it to joel miller, javier peña, frankie morales, dieter bravo, or oberyn martell) & a number from this prompt list and I'll write a short drabble!) ❓ - ask (-me anything!)

my thank you note below the cut:

guys, from the bottom of my heart, thank you so much for 7,000 followers! I'm so grateful and appreciative of every single one of you who has supported me, read my work, reblogged and left a sweet comment - you have no idea how happy it makes me to be able to interact with such lovely individuals! some might say you guys make me feel pretty... lucky ;))

I'm a big believer in luck, seven is my favorite number, 777 is my angel number and literally tattooed on me, so with reaching 7k, I thought it would be amazing to thank you for your support by throwing a casino celebration! everyday I win big by having you guys be part of my community! this is my first follower celebration and I'm so happy to be spending it with you guys.

I genuinely never thought I would be writing for a hobby as long as I have. I've been a part of several fandoms that I've really enjoyed writing for and have made wonderful friends along the way! sincerely, thank you, thank you, thank you! come celebrate!

I hope it's not cheesy to tag some friends along the way!: @thetriumphantpanda @undercoverpena @kiwisbell @perotovar @pedgito @swiftispunk @mrsmando @javiscigarette @bearsbeetsbeskar @cupofjoel @cavillscurls @sweetercalypso @pr0ximamidnight @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @hyzer34 @planet-marz1 @joelsgreys

#follower celebration

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musical-shit-show · 2 years

Note

my apologies. prompt list 1, #4 please, beetlejuice!!

don’t want you like a best friend

Pairing: Beetlejuice x Reader

Inspiration: Prompt #4 (“i really want to kiss you right now” “do it then”) from Prompt List 1.

Warnings: alcohol mention, reader is tipsy, fluff, suggestive dialogue

Word Count: 1,173

Author’s Note: So so so sorry this took so long! I’ve been crazy busy with work and the show that I’m in, but I finally finished this ask! Thanks anon for the suggestion! And if you’d like to request anything from either of my Prompt Lists, please send me an ask and check out my Masterlist and About Me page! Enjoy :)

“Beej, I have to go now. You know how I hate being late.”

The demon huffed at your completely reasonable statement. You were finally able to coordinate a night out with your friends, and the live-in ghost who had plagued your existence over the past few months was clearly not pleased.

At first, you were utterly bewildered by Beetlejuice. You have no idea how he ended up in your apartment, though he kept muttering something about being a ‘bio-exorcist’, which sounded far too fantastical for you to fully comprehend.

Once he realized his efforts to scare you out of your dwelling was fruitless, Beetlejuice took no time at all making himself at home. In a way, he was like a housecat: he purred, he slept wherever he wanted, he pushed over breakable objects for attention.

And he wanted nothing more than to be around you all the time.

Which, to him, started out as nothing but another activity to fill his endless existence. If he couldn’t scare you to death, annoying you to death was certainly an acceptable option, right?

“But baaaaabe,” he whined, floating above you as you fished out the keys from your purse, “What am I supposed to do while you’re gone? Not a ton of options for a dead guy, ya know.”

He was lying, of course. There were plenty of hijinks a demon of his nature could get up to on a Friday night, but he wanted you to feel bad for him. His incessant flirting didn’t faze you either, much to the ghost’s dismay.

He had a kind of crush on you, which wasn’t at all surprising. Beetlejuice had developed a penchant for breathers over the years, and you had grown to be one of his favorites. Which made your departure for the evening even more gutting.

“I don’t know,” you answered his rhetorical question, exasperated as you slung your purse over your shoulder, “But I have no doubt you’ll find some way to entertain yourself.”

The demon’s hair turned a deep shade of violet, not masking his sadness at the prospect of you enjoying a night out without him. You noticed immediately and frowned.

“It’ll only be a couple hours, bug,” you hoped the pet name would soften the blow, “I promise.” Beetlejuice grumbled and *popped* out of the room. You sighed, accepting his poutiness. Maybe you’d be able to make it up to him later.

***

When you got home, your ghostly roommate was nowhere to be found. Despite only having a few drinks, your head was throbbing. You flopped onto the couch and contemplated turning on the TV, but you couldn’t muster the willpower to try and find the remote.

You looked around a few times, when suddenly you saw it rising slowing, surrounded by a sickly lime glow. You couldn’t help but let out a laugh as it floated towards you.

“Beetlejuice!” you knew using his full name would irritate him, and you were right. He materialized seconds later, his hair back to its signature shade of green. You oddly couldn’t have been happier to see him.

“Hey, babes, easy on the ‘B’ word, okay?” he said as he immediately got comfortable on your couch, “If I went away, who’d be here to entertain ya?” You let out another giggle, your last drink making you feel equal parts bold and bubbly.

“Well, I had to get your attention somehow, didn’t I?” you retorted, finally grabbing the remote out of the air and placing it on your coffee table.

“So…” he drawled, his voice sounding particularly gravelly, “You have a good time tonight?” You couldn’t help but sigh, your headache finally wearing off. Instinctively, you let your head rest on Beetlejuice’s shoulder. You had become nose blind to the smell of dirt and decay that constantly permeated from his suit jacket.

“Yeah, I mean, it was nice seeing everyone,” you said, suddenly feeling warm, “I didn’t really have much to contribute though; you know, they were all talking about weddings and babies and gossip and I was just…there. Listening.”

He nodded, not sure how to respond. Beetlejuice had been dead for so long that he couldn’t remember the mundane moments of his life. He watched your ups and downs and in betweens and sometimes, for a second, he could recall what it was like to be human. Maybe that’s why he stuck around.

“Honestly,” you said, swallowing bravely as you raised your head to meet his eye, “all I could think about was coming home. To you.” Of course, this got the demon’s attention. All he could muster was a surprised “Oh?”, his eyebrows raised in shock and amusement.

You had never rendered Beetlejuice speechless before, so you decided to continue.

“Yeah,” you said, “And I swear, I’m only a little bit tipsy so don’t think I don’t mean this, because I do. But I really want to kiss you right now.”

The demon couldn’t help but flash a knowing smirk.

“Do it then.”

And you did. And it was sweet and soft and not at all what you expected. It took a little liquid courage, but as soon as your lips met his, it felt like a switch flipped inside your brain. You had no idea this had been what you’d been searching for.

After a moment, Beetlejuice deepened the kiss, and you felt a pit form in your stomach. You knew how he was; you didn’t want this to be just a random hookup. Being a notch it a demon’s bedpost wasn’t exactly on your bucket list.

Before you could form a coherent thought, you hadn’t even realized that he had wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you even closer to his ridiculously tattered suit. You couldn’t find it in you to care.

“Wait,” you said, your head spinning again, “I don’t—I can’t let this be a one-night thing, Beej. I like you. A lot. I think I’ve just be too stupid to see it until now so, if you don’t want that, we can just pretend like this never happened.”

Pink had started to sprout at the roots of his hair, and he still had a big grin plastered on his face, “Babes, are you serious?” he asked incredulously, “I’ve wanted to be with ya since the first week I started crashing here. I think you’re hot stuff.”

You could feel yourself turn red as you kissed him again, elated, “Plus,” he drawled, “How great will it be to tell your friends the next time you see them that your boyfriend is a demon.”

“Oh, I’m sure they’ll love that.”

“Make sure to let them know I give great head.”

“Beej!” you hit him playfully, blush now creeping up your neck as he peppered kisses along your clavicle.

“Just so ya know, all you have to do is just ask, sweetheart,” he looked up at you, his eyes now fiery with hunger as he scanned you up and down, “And in that outfit, you won’t have to ask twice.”

***

thanks for reading! please like/reblog/comment if you enjoyed this!

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lizzie-is-here · 1 year

Text

christmas event!

character: bucky x fem!reader

summary: december 16 tends to bring memories for a certain ex-winter soldier

warnings: violence, anxiety attack, trauma, bucky being sad, murder

a/n: was this requested? no. is it on my prompt list? no. but i wrote it on the plane and am literally posting it during my layover so lmao hope y’all enjoy 🫶🫶🫶

Christmas is one of your favorite times of the year. Something about the lights, the snow, and the nostalgia has you setting up decorations right after Halloween.

All credit to him, Bucky tries his best when it comes to Christmas. It’s fun, but it tends to bring back memories of Rebecca and his mom, as well as constant reminders of just how much everything has changed.

But he loves you, so he loves Christmas.

The challenge comes in the week before. It's late in the evening when he turns on the TV. He’s bored, and just wants you home.

You’re running around shopping for ribbon, since you realized last-minute that the ribbon you already had didn’t match your wrapping paper. Bucky doesn’t really get why it matters. He wrapped Sam and Steve’s gifts in trash bags this year.

The TV isn’t offering up much. Endless Hallmark movies that neither of you like and holiday baking shows that you both promised to only watch together.

His eyes almost slip over it.

December 16: the Mysterious Deaths of Howard and Maria Stark

Bucky can’t swallow the lump in his throat. The world knows nothing about his involvement, of course, but that doesn’t make it easier.

The guilt had been eating at him before you came along. You showed him that he didn’t have to be guilty, that he could live and grow. He never even planned to ask you out. Falling in love with you just came along with your friendship.

He knows you would advise against watching the documentary. But you aren’t here. And a little bit of curiosity wouldn’t hurt.

That notion is cured the moment he clicks on the channel. It’s a barely-censored crime scene photo, that, though grainy, is clear enough to see the blood all over the inside of the car.

Two bodies are slumped in their seats.

He can feel Maria fighting against his old arm as he choked her. The way Howard’s nose collapsed in on itself with a single punch. The serum in the trunk, the motorcycle he used to ride away.

Every detail is as clear as day. Each one opens new questions. The ones that Bucky falls asleep in your arms to avoid. The ones he doesn’t even want to think about around you, lest they somehow taint you.

But you aren’t here.

So he spirals.

———————————————————————

“Bucky? I’m back,” you call. You have so many boxes in your arms that you don’t spot him on the couch enveloped in some show.

You frown as you set the boxes on the counter. “Baby?”

No response. Until you peer around the makeshift tower.

“Hey, what’s going on?” you chuckle. “What’re you-“

“No one knows how the Starks died. But many believe that the flimsy cover-up of a car accident is hiding a much more sinister truth. Ms. Stark’s autopsy showed signs of severe bruising around the neck, as well as asphyxiation and a struggle. Some even claim that the Winter Soldier-“

You turn the show off.

“James. Are you okay?” The use of his real name startles him a bit.

“Yeah, I was just…” Bucky can’t offer an explanation. He takes a shaky breath. “Just browsing.”

Offering a sad smile and a weak laugh, you sit next to him. “Browsing the true crime channel?”

He shrugs. His eyes are still on the screen, as if he can see the gorey imagery.

You don’t push further. Instead, you take his hand, lead him to the kitchen, and you start making dinner together.

Bucky really tries to put up good conversation. Your night shouldn’t be a downer just because he chose to watch that stupid show. Yet, he can’t manage more than a few sentences.

You gently set a hand on his arm to grab a plate from behind him, and it just reminds his of how Maria Stark clawed at his metal one so desperately in her last moments.

A motorcycle passes by outside and he can practically see the long ride back to the HYDRA base.

Eventually, he gives up and falls silent.

It’s only later that night, when you’re laying in bed, that he speaks again.

The two of you are intertwined. It’s like Bucky’s convinced that, if he lets you go, he’ll fall right back into that spiral.

It’s heartbreaking. The way he clings to you.

You’ll always want to offer support, but it hurts to see him so consumed by this.

What he says hurts even more.

“I don’t think I’m a good person,” he whispers into your shoulder. His thoughts are too scrambled to hear the way you sniffle.

You pause, gathering yourself before responding.

“Well, I’ve known a lot of bad people,” you begin. “And I’d like to think I know you pretty well. There’s not much crossover there.”

“If you weren’t a good person, if you were ‘bad’, you wouldn’t be worrying about it. Sure, this guilt shouldn’t be on you. You didn’t have control. But it proves my point.”

“You’re not a bad person, Jamie. I promise.”

He can’t express how much it means to him. He’s relieved and still drowning in worry all at once. There’s one more thing.

“And what if you’re wrong?”

Pressing a kiss to his temple, you exhale softly.

“Then we can be bad people together.”

You both fall asleep like that, entwined in every way. Hiding from the world in each others’ arms as endless flurries cover the streets of Brooklyn.

But not before you grab your phone, and send a quick text to a certain Captain that still feels like he owes the brunet for his new suit.

And in the morning, that documentary is nowhere to be found.

#marvel #marvel x reader #x reader #avengers #avengers x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader angst #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #lizzie’s christmas event #event #requests open #request

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thenightling · 1 year

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My favorite bard characters

The new Dungeons and Dragons: Honor Among Thieves movie and The Witcher has popularized the fantasy character class of bard. A bard, in fantasy settings and historically, was usually a storyteller, or a minstrel who would tell stories in song. In fantasy settings they are usually minstrels. In Nordic culture a skald was the term for a storyteller (usually a highly creative and very prized slave).

Here is a top ten list of my favorite fictional bards.

13. Bonus: Loki: I'll start with number 11. Bonus: Loki. There is a viking skald in Loki: Agent of Asgard that is revealed to be Loki in disguise. So Marvel's Loki goes on this list. Loki is believed in by Asatru people so this entry is specifically in regard to Marvel's Loki. He also gained the title "God of Stories."

12. Morpheus AKA Dream of The Endless AKA The Sandman. Morpheus is The Lord of Dreams in Roman mythology and in Neil Gaiman's the Sandman . In The Sandman he is also known as The Prince of Stories.

11. Lucien The Librarian and Cain and Abel from The Sandman by Neil Gaiman. Lucien was changed to Lucienne for The Sandman Netflix series but they're pretty much the same character. Lucien is the keeper of the largest library in the multiverse and was also the host of the horror anthology comics Tales of Ghost Castle. I'm sort of cheating a little here by mentioning Lucien and Cain and Abel since they're not actually bards but I love horror hosts. Cain, Abel, Lucien, Eve (Raven Woman), Destiny (Destiny of The Endless), The Hecate (The Three Witches), and The Mad Mod Witch (The Fashion Thing) all started as horror hosts for DC's horror anthology comics. I'm reserving this spot for Lucien, Cain, and Abel. Hosts of Tales of Ghost Castle (which only ran for three issues), The House of Mystery (DC's oldest comic), and The House of Secrets (Spin-off of The House of Mystery and comic where we first get introduced to the concept of Swamp Thing).

Before Neil Gaiman used these characters in The Sandman they told scary stories in DC's horror anthology comics which were DC's answer to EC's Horror anthology comics which brings us to... 10. The Crypt Keeper, Vault Keeper, and Old Witch. The Crypt Keeper hosted the Horror anthology comics Tales from the Crypt. The Vault keeper hosted Vault of Horror. And the Old Witch also told scary stories for EC comics. The Crypt Keeper hosted HBO's Tales From the Crypt TV series as well as Tales from the Cryptkeeper animated series. Season 2 of Tales from the Cryptkeeper was co-hosted by The Cryptkeeper, Vault Keeper, and Old Witch. They also collaborated as hosts for the joke book called Jokes from the Crypt. Again, I admit I am sort of cheating here by listing horror anthology hosts instead of actual bard characters so this is the last Horror anthology hosts for the list.

9. Peter Vincent in the 1985 film Fright Night, the 1988 film Fright Night: Part 2 and the Fright Night comic books. In Fright Night Peter Vincent is a has-been horror movie actor who now hosts a late night TV show where he shows his old movies.

Peter Vincent meets a teenage boy whose neighbor turns out to be a real vampire and Peter overcomes his own cowardice to become the hero he always pretended to be. Though Peter Vincent was originally just a stage name the character eventually embraces it to become a hero and protector of the innocent.

In the comic books Peter Vincent continued to host his late night horror movie TV series while working in secret to help Charley thwart the forces of evil. I consider Peter Vincent to be a contemporary bard character.

I would put Peter further on the list at number 3 perhaps but I left him at number 9 because he is an unconventional addition to this list.

8. Evyn AKA Shadow from the novel The King's Shadow.

Evyn wanted to be a bard but was mutilated in a brutal attack His tongue was cut out and he was left mute. His own uncle sold him into slavery. But thanks to fate's benign intervention Evyn was able to learn to read and write so he was able to become a storyteller as a scribe and eventually became an adopted son of the king.

7. Gabrielle from Xena: Warrior Princess. Gabrielle was Xena's travel companion and very likely love interest (Lucy Lawless, the actress who played Xena) believed they were practically married in the end. Xena: warrior Princess was the spin-off of Hercules the Legendary Journeys. I have often described The Witcher as being a gender inverted Xena: Warrior Princess. Gabrielle was a novice bard who wanted to write about Xena's adventures and to eventually go on those adventures, herself.

Just as I sort of perfer Jaskier with longer hair, I actually liked when Gabrielle's hair was cut short later on in Xena.

6. Essi Daven. I'm a little confused to if Priscilla (Callonetta) from the Witcher video games and Essi Daven from The Witcher novels are supposed to be the same character or not. Essi was from The Witcher novels. I suspect they are the same character but I've seen arguments that they are different enough that they count as separate characters. But I have also seen people try to claim that Jaskier and Dandelion are different enough to count as different characters as well and Jaskier definitely is Dandelion. Dandelion was just what he was called in the English translations of the novels and in the English language video games. Essi is a woman bard from The Witcher who was very much in love with Geralt though Dandelion (Jaskier) had feelings for her. Sadly she eventually died of smallpox. The burden of living in a medieval-esque society.

Dandelion was in love with her.

5. Priscilla AKA Callonetta is a woman bard from The Witcher video games. A rival and romantic interest to Dandelion (Jaskier). Possibly the same character as Essi Daven but some Witcher fans have argued that they are not the same character so I am listing them separately.

4. Edgin. Edgin is a character from Dungeons and Dragons: Honor Among thieves. In fact he is the main protagonist. He is a "Harper" that has fallen from grace. A Harper is a spy that poses as a bard to gain info and to stop criminals. So he is a bard but he used his status as a bard to work as a spy, hence the term "Harper." Later he got a little greedy and it cost him dearly but he and his band of misfits set out on a quest to set things right.

3. Fflewddur Fflam. I hate the character's name but love the character. The version in the Disney film The Black Cauldron is very different from the book character, including being much older, but I still found him to be an enjoyable character. He is a classic bard with a bit of a mysterious past.

In the books he's actually a king of a small kingdom but prefers life as a wandering bard. It makes him sound a bit like a role playing game character.

2. The Storyteller. This character's name is not actually given but he was a mysterious (possibly not entirely human) traveling storyteller, with a talking dog that appeared every week on Jim Henson's The Storyteller. He was portrayed by John Hurt and the dog was voiced by Brian Henson (Son of Jim Henson). There was a spin-off called The Storyteller: Greek Myths. John Hurt's portrayal of The Storyteller may have been why he was chosen to voice Morpheus AKA Dream of The Endless AKA The Sandman for a scrapped episode of Batman The Animated series.

Currently Neil Gaiman is involved with a revival of The Storyteller in development by the Henson company where he hopes to explore The Storyteller's own mysterious backstory.

1. Jaskier (Translates from Polish to Buttercup) / Dandelion. Jaskier is the bard companion of Geralt of Rivia AKA The Witcher (Monster Hunter) from The Witcher novels, short stories, comics, Netflix series, and video games. In the English language versions of The Witcher novels and The Witcher video games he was known as Dandelion. But in The Witcher Netflix series and in the original Polish he was known as Jaskier which directly translates to Buttercup.

Whatever you call him, Jaskier is a great character. He is the companion of Geralt of Rivia in The Witcher and he is also his own well-developed character. By season 2 Jaskier had evolved from the slightly-conceited rock musician-esque bard into a compassionate freedom fighter who smuggled people to safety.

I absolutely love Joey Batey's portrayal of Jaskier as well as his incredible singing voice as the character.

And though there has been some criticism over his look in season 2, I actually think he looks better with longer hair.

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breadknight-likes-things · 4 months

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Bread's Game Of The Year Honorable Mention #4: Star Wars Jedi: Survivor

I'm pretty burnt on Star Wars. Since the Disney era began there's been five movies, an ever increasing amount of TV shows, and an endless parade of circular arguments of what Star Wars is supposed to be, and it all drives me near to madness. The video games though? Those have been plugging along at a high quality, and somehow, it feels like it's easy to miss that. I'm generally of the mind that video games, by their very nature and existence, are better than movies and TV. Usually, if some big media property has a game version, that's going to be the one I gravitate towards, because playing video games is more fun for me than passively watching something. Enter: Jedi Survivor, a fairly iterative and not all that revolutionary sequel to 2019's Jedi Fallen Order, but a good one nonetheless. In a year full of bombastic, 10/10 video games, it's so easy to overlook something that's just good, maybe not super remarkable, but good. Jedi Survivor has a fairly similar setup to Fallen Order. Cal Kestis is still on the Empires most wanted list. Still running missions that he thinks will further the cause of bringing down the empire, and still, frankly, being endearing as hell. The story is a bit of a surprise this time, as instead of diving further into the fight against the empire for the bulk of the game, as would be so easy, a lot of it is largely focused on the recently introduced High Republic era of tie in media. As such there's a lot more Jedi mysticism, old feuds and lost temples in this one. Not that there weren't those before, but they really get the limelight here. The gameplay itself is fairly similar, but they make some key changes that I do think results in this one being the better of the two "Jedi" games. There are more combat styles to chose from, resulting in more varied gameplay that can range from fast and furious strikes with dual lightsabers, to a two handed claymore type weapon that favors high risk with slow moving attacks. While it wasn't my favorite, there's even an interesting combat style that straight up favors Cal firing a gun with his left hand while using the lightsaber in his right. Alongside the new combat, the game takes a piece of advice from the last game that I personally had hoped for, and increases the frequency of the boss battles by quite a bit. A big improvement from the first games relative lack of them. even if some of the bosses are obvious repeats of ones that had come before, or souped up normal enemies, it still provides a fun end cap to bigger moments that sometimes that original game failed to provide. All in all, Jedi Survivor is, as I said, a fairly iterative sequel. In a year where the frequency of good games is frankly absurd, that doesn't exactly stand out. Still, it deserves a shout out, It builds on and improves the foundation set up in Jedi Fallen Order, and makes a really solid action adventure game from that. It's one worth playing. Also this game has Turgle in it. I won't spoil who that is, but this game has them in it. 10/10.

#video games #bread's game journal #pc gaming #game journal #video game #star wars #ps5 #xbox series x #steam #Star Wars jedi #jedi fallen order #jedi survivor #cal kestis #goty #goty 2023

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bonniehooper · 2 years

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Endless List of My Favorite TV Shows

Attack on Titan (2013 - 2023)

#Attack on Titan #Eren Jaeger #Mikasa Ackerman #Armin Arlert #Krista Lenz #Reiner Braun #Jean Kirschtein #Levi Ackerman #Connie Springer #Sasha Braus #Hange Zoe #Ymir #Erwin Smith #Endless List of My Favorite TV Shows #ELoMFTS #over 50

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gatormeister · 3 months

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Just finished Endless Waltz, and it is absolutely fantastic. I loved every second of that movie. Took everything that was good in Gundam Wing and turned the dial up to eleven. Got just that little bit extra backstory for the pilots. More Tallgeese is always a good thing. I like the TV versions of the suits better in every case other than the Deathscythe Hell, that one's about equal with the TV appearance I'd say. Give Heavyarms back it's orange damn it!

Absolute pacifism was always a weak ideal in the show, mostly because it just sort of worked all the time just by Relena talking. It was only ever really opposed by war mongers. Endless Waltz finally shows the struggle that is maintaining peace and peaceful attitudes in a way outside of having some cartoonish monarchist/fascist practically look at the camera and call it naive before being proven wrong very shortly after. Which was fine in the show really, as I said in a previous post, Wing tried doing a lot with it's plot that it couldn't fully support, and the end result was some plot points that just never sat quite right.

Mariemaia was a seven year old trying to become a world dictator. She was just a puppet of course. Sort of a Haman and Mineva situation there. But every time she'd open her mouth to try and sound smart I could only think, "You are literally seven, what the hell are you talking about?" Which was funny.

My favorite suits from the series and movie would be the Tallgeese with the Tallgeese II be my favorite iteration, the Wing Gundam of course with Unit 01 the first iteration being my favorite of those, the Sandrock, and the Deathscythe Hell TV version. I liked the Leos and Tauruses, but the rest of the grunt suits just weren't big hits with me. I'd put the Leo above the Taurus, but I would also say that everything I like about the Leo, the Graze from Iron Blooded Orphans does the same but better.

Over all an okay to good series with a fantastic ending. I don't know if I'd watch the whole series over again, but I'd absolutely re-watch Endless Waltz. Next up is War in the Pocket followed by Stardust Memory and Thunderbolt, but before that I'm going to take a small break from Gundam. I may have only just started posting about the shows with Turn A, but I have been watching Gundam basically nonstop since around the August last year. Going from G-Witch, to IBO, to The Origin, 0079 the series, Zeta, Double Zeta, Char's Counterattack, 08th MS Team, Unicorn, Narrative, Turn A, and now Wing and Endless Waltz. It's been a lot, and I am ready to watch some shorter shows without giant robots in them... for at least a little bit. I'm thinking I go back to Gundam in February. I'll still be posting pictures of Gunpla I build in the meantime, but that's a lot different than sitting down and watching multiple shows that are around fifty epsiodes each. See ya!

(Edited to add Narrative into the list. A movie so self contained I literally forgot to put it in with the rest of Gundam.)

#gundam #mobile suit gundam wing #Endless Waltz #mobile suit gundam #mobile suit gundam wing endless waltz

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mobumi · 6 months

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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....

Hi! Sorry for the late reply, i started to write my answer and completely forgot about it. It's been in my drafts for months, i feel so bad omg! 😭 It was also really difficult to choose and i have only two female characters i am truly ashamed... But thank you very much for this ask, it was fun!

Here's my top 10! 😊

1. Mob/Kageyama Shigeo (Mob Psycho 100 - Anime)

I love him so much! I think he has the most wonderful character development in any anime i've watched! He has such a pure soul and compared to other shonen MCs, he just wants to be a normal teenager and be happy. So much growth and strength with this character, i love it! The series finale was incredible and I was so happy for my boy🥹

2. Megumi Fushiguro (Jujutsu Kaisen - Anime)

I think he's an interesting character with so much potential for the future. I love the way he always appears reserved and cold but he's actually a softie on the inside and how his own sense of justice contrasts with Yuji. He's just a pretty cool character and stronger than he appears to be and he cares so much about his friends. Haven't read the manga but currently watching season 2 so I'm excited about what's in store for him!

3. Dream of the Endless (The Sandman - TV)

New favorite character alert!! Not a surprise 'cause my favorites are always the cold and broody ones tbh I just love how Dream is so imperfect and still learning and his whole vibe, the long black coat and the emo hair like he's in a indie rock band is just chef's kiss! Incredible character on the show, so charismatic and mesmerizing.

4. Five (The Umbrella Academy - TV)

At this point, there's a pattern here. Maybe it's because i'm an INTJ myself, but Five seems like he's very INTJ to me. It's just the whole attitude and the way he calculates and plans everything, very rational and precise, sarcastic and (though pretty mean sometimes), exactly how i like my characters! All his scenes are top tier and his power is very cool (not explored enough on the show unfortunately.)

5. Minho (The Maze Runner - Book series)

The sarcastic character? Asian as main? Hell yes! Finally more Asian representation and not stereotyped! The book series would have not been as good without him! I was pretty gutted when he was barely there in the Death Cure movie, but Ki Hong Lee was so great as Minho, he perfectly captured his smug and smartass attitude that I fell in love with. He's also very courageous and loyal to his friends which I love too. Overall a very cool character!

6. Deadpool/ Wade Wilson (Deadpool - Comics/Movies)

Deadpool is just Deadpool... Bro he's just vibing killing people or whatever. He's completely unhinged, crazy, over the top and just a fun ride. Pansexual king! What else can I say, he's just one of my favorite comic book characters ❤️

7. Miles Morales (Spiderman - Comics/Movies)

Another comic book character in my list. Miles is a cool addition to the Spiderverse and the movies they made are just INCREDIBLE! The animation, everything is top notch. Also Miles is very relatable and has an intesresting development. You get attached to him quickly and he's just so lovable, idk he's my son, i stan.

8. Stiles Stilinski (Teen Wolf - TV)

Honestly asfghjkl!! I've always loved this character, more so when i was a teenager watching Teen Wolf. Looking back now, the show was not that good but at the time I was pretty obsessed. Stiles was everything i loved about a character: funny, sarcastic, entertaining, likable... He made the show a lot better and kept me watching! He's low on this list only because i'm not into Teen Wolf as much as i was back in the day.

9. Sana Bakkoush (Skam - TV)

She's so cool?? I wish i had been like that when i was a teenager, well for the most part lol. I really like her unbothered attitude and her snarky comments. She is fierce, not afraid to say what she thinks and is loyal to her friends and trustworthy. She's a teenager who has still a lot to learn but she's already wise for her age and just a good character overall. I really like female characters who are confident and charismatic! Her season wasn't perfect, but for me she was the best character in the whole series 😊

10. Sidney Adamu (The Bear - TV)

She's last on the list mostly because she's a new favorite, but she's very cool. I can relate to her, she's fresh and real, she knows her worth, she's courageous, hard-working and just very lovable as a character! Sydney captivated me from the beginning and her scenes were always my favorites. Haven't finished season 2 yet but I can't wait to see where her character goes! ✨

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olderthannetfic · 1 year

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I am supremely curious as to what was the most interesting older than net fiction that you've ever seen circulated?

Or maybe just what was your favorite?

also was the star trek penis cosplay a story you shared or was that someone else?

and when did you first become aware of fanfiction on the internet? Was it just email sharing or was there a website that you and some fandom friends set out to use?

Yes, I mentioned the dancing penises, though I think I was wrong about Kandy dancing. I think she did the tape recorder. (It was a skit they did at cons. The penises danced to music.)

I discovered fanfic via alt.tv.x-files in 1994. I was there because I'd gotten into the show, but it introduced me to a lot of geek culture things in addition to having canon discussion.

The World Wide Web had existed since 1991, but there wasn't much on it. It exploded in 1995 specifically. I downloaded the whole x-files archive (pre-gossamer) via FTP, like one did back in the day, not via a site at all.

It was not e-mail sharing because this was an era when few people had e-mail and those that did had it through work and school with their real names on it. There were some paid services where you could have whatever name you wanted, but there weren't free things like hotmail where you could make endless throwaway fannish accounts, and much worse, mailing lists were generally being hosted on university servers and run by somebody working tech at a university. Free mailing list hosts started with egroups and onelist a couple of years after I got into fandom, then got gobbled up by Yahoo Groups.

I was certainly on hundreds of mailing lists within just a few years, but when I started, it was a usenet-heavy era. Lists, particularly lists where anything queer would be discussed, were secret and invite-only like Virgule and would not have allowed someone under 18 to join. (Usenet, meanwhile, had soc.bi right out in the open I read that a lot in addition to fandom groups.)

The most interesting old fic that springs to mind is probably one where the mysterious boss from Miami Vice (my icon on tumblr, in fact) had no known past because he'd come from those underground people in the Beauty and the Beast tv series with Ron Perlman in lion makeup and Linda Hamilton as a NYC lawyer.

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wonderfulworldofmichaelford · 7 months

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About Me: Favorite TV Shows

I'm gonna be honest with all of you: I'm not much of a TV show guy. I'm just typically not one who likes sinking a lot of time into something unless it's a video game with a lot to do in it. This is why I review movies; they're typically the perfect length for my easily-distracted ass to take in.

But still, there are plenty of shows that have broken that rule and managed to keep me engaged and coming back for more. Some of these are favorites from my childhood, while some of these are more recent shows I finally decided to watch. It's a nice mix, but the main thing here is that all of these shows are something truly special to me considering I took the time to watch them all.

There's a few honorable mentions to go over. The four biggest ones are The Simpsons, South Park, Family Guy, and Rick & Morty. I love all four of these shows... for the most part. My issue with all of them is that despite having stretches that are some of the greatest ever in TV history, they also have huge chunks of absolute dogshit to the point it is debated to this day at which point the shows fell off, or if they even managed to get back on. And sure, every show has bad stretches, but with most of these shows being long running programs and all of them being massive cultural phenomena, it sticks out a lot more. Rick & Morty in particular was hit really bad by this. The reason these shows don't get on while I have other long runners with bad stretches on the list is simple: When these shows are bad, they're offensively bad. Like the middle seasons of SpongeBob are bad, but at least they don't have his giant sperms come to life and impregnate his sister's egg to create a giant incest baby or have an overly long sequence in which he vomits after finding out he fucked a trans woman.

Other honorable mentions include: Batman Beyond, Chowder, Catscratch, Codename: Kids Next Door, Fraggle Rock, Good Omens, Malcolm in the Middle, Heroes, Cardcaptor Sakura, Invader Zim, Ben 10, Gargoyles, and The Mandalorian.

30. Captain Planet and the Planeteers

I had to find a way to squeeze one "so bad it's good" show on the list, but how? Making a show that's pure camp is more difficult than making a movie like that... but they somehow found a way by giving us the adventures of racially diverse eco-warriors fighting against pollution with the held of an absolutely ripped planetary avatar with a green mullet who spouts an endless stream of cheesy puns and one-liners that would make even Schwarzenegger's Mr. Freeze take pause. Every time this show is on, you bet your ass I'm sitting down and watching; it's the most beautiful cheese there is.

29. Bluey

My wife and I caught this on TV during a Disney vacation and we ended up loving it! This turned out to be a blessing, because a while later we had our first kid and she's obsessed with the show (she's going as Bingo for Halloween this year). It's such a cute, charming children's show with relatable messages for both kids and parents, as well as a shockingly good score. It genuinely is one of the best pieces of children's media out there, much better than shlock like Cailou or Peppa Pig (are those shows even still on?).

28. Jackie Chan Adventures

Cartoons based on celebrities tend to suck balls, but maybe they were picking the wrong celebrities the whole time. Maybe instead of MC Hammer, they should have picked everyone's favorite homophobic, PETA-supporting Chinese nationalist action star, Jackie Chan! This show is literally the Saturday morning cartoon. It really had it all: Wild animated action, mystical artifacts acquired through Indiana Jones-esque adventures. all sorts of crazy monsters and supernatural entities, and memorable characters like my man Tohru, who walked so Prince Zuko could run.

27. Sailor Moon

I think everyone remembers their first anime, and this was mine. My mom loved the show, so I ended up watching it a lot back when it was airing on the early iterations of Toonami, and it has made me a lifelong magical girl fan. Maybe Cardcaptor Sakura and PPMM did that whole thing better, but neither show had Sailor Mars, my first anime crush. All that aside, the cheesiness and the sheer earnest power of love and friendship that managed to solve every problem is just peak fiction... I just wish it was nearly as good as the manga.

26. Green Eggs and Ham

If you told me way back when that someday there would be an adaptation of the Dr. Seuss book famous for containing a very limited number of words that expanded on the story, added drama, and threw in a villain who is a blatant spoof of former president and eternal idiot Donald Trump, I think I might have stared at you in utter confusion. And if you told me this show would actually be good, I'd be doubly confused. Thankfully, the show is really damn good, with an impressive cast and good humor that manages to capture the whimsy of the wubbulous world of Dr. Seuss perfectly.

25. Inhumanoids

I think everyone has a soft spot for an 80s toy commercial, but where most would pick Transformers, My Little Pony, or Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, my favorite of the lot was this obscure gem of a show. It's such a fun introduction of horror and Lovecraftian abominations to a young audience, and a lot of it is still unsettling and dark to this day. D'Compose will eternally haunt my nightmares between that raspy voice and the gruesome transformations he inflicts on his victims. Good shit!

24. Danny Phantom

Forget that stupid fairy show, this right here is the best thing Butch Hartman ever put his name on. It's a loving tribute to comic book superheroes in the same way Ben 10 was, but I think this show is ever-so-slightly better due to its blend of supernatural and sci-fi working really well (and also it doesn't retcon all magic as being alien energy or whatever the fuck they did with Gwen in the sequel series). The only thing holding it back from a higher spot is how hilariously bad the finale is and the rather scattershot quality of the final season in general. Too many loose plot threads hanging for my taste.

23. The Boys

Seth Rogen has seemingly made it his mission in life to adapt all of Garth Ennis' work in a way that makes it not suck ass, and boy am I here for it. Adapting one of Garthy-boy's most repulsive and spiteful works and turning it into a genuinely great superhero show that satirizes celebrity culture instead of just taking a huge shit all over comic book superheroes was really the way to go, and watching Anthony Starr and Karl Urban command the screen every time they take center stage is a blast. Sure, it's still gory and lowbrow, but it's done in a way where it's honestly appealing as opposed to whatever the fuck Ennis was doing.

22. Mystery Science Theater 3000

I mean, it should be pretty obvious that I love this series, right? If you ever had the misfortune of watching a movie at home with me, you'd know I just do not shut the fuck up and spend a lot of the runtime either pointing out trivia or cracking jokes, and it's mostly because of being inspired by this show. It's also partly because I'm annoying, but that's neither here nor there.

21. Batman: The Animated Series

No fucking duh this is on the list. This is pretty much the definitive portrayal of Batman for a lot of people, one that truly encapsulates everything the character is all about. Kevin Conroy truly owned the titular role, as did his costar Mark Hamill when it came to the Joker, and as if that wasn't enough this is the show that spawned one of my favorite comic characters, Harley Quinn. There's no denying the impact this show has had on Batman as a franchise, but even beyond that it's just a damn good show with really good writing. I sure am glad one of the guys who made it never went and flushed all the good will he garnered from creating this by constantly having Bruce Wayne lust after one of his teenage proteges!

20. Courage the Cowardly Dog

This show is pretty well-regarded for how it showcased some truly weird and fucked up imagery, but I don’t think any of that would be as resonant without the moments of tenderness and heartfelt emotion, the genuinely amusing slapstick, or the often clever writing. When it comes to episodic shows, variety is king, and this show has that in spades.

19. The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy

This show seems to be an answer to a question no one asked: What if they made Family Guy for kids? The black comedy, the negative continuity, the numerous pop culture references, the grossout humor, the musical numbers… it probably wasn’t intentional, but it sure adds up. The biggest difference is that this show is way more consistent in quality and has Jeff the spider, making it the superior show by a mile.

18. Digimon Tamers

What do you get when you cross the silly monster battles of Digimon with the writing of the man who brought us Serial Experiments Lain and a heaping helping of Lovecraft? You get this show, of course! It’s darker and more psychological than the goofier seasons before it, and while normally I’d balk at a series shifting tone like this, since this was my first ever Digimon cartoon I watched from start to finish I embraced it with open arms. Hell, this show is probably where my love of psychological and allegorical horror came from. And of course the show gave me yet another childhood crush, and if you’ve read the Rhine City stories I co-author you’ll know exactly which character it was.

17. The Twilight Zone

The brilliance of this anthology series is just the incredibly wide range it has with the supernatural and sci-fi stories. Sometimes you’ll get a resonant and hard-hitting allegory on a social issue, and sometimes you’ll just get a cool, fucked up horror story where some evil little kid can warp reality and holds an entire town hostage to his maniacal whims. I’ve enjoyed every revival they’ve done over the years, but the Rod Serling original just can’t be beat.

16. Stranger Things

I’ll admit that it’s really the first and fourth seasons carrying this show to #16; seasons 2 and 3 are wildly uneven, with 3 in particular veering close to the shark-jumping ramp with its cartoonish Red Scare stereotypes. But even in the show’s weakest moments, the characters and how they interact with each other have managed to keep me invested. How can I be too mad at season 3 when it gave my boy Steve (the best character) a new BFF, Robin (the other best character)?

15. Elfen Lied

I think it’s easy to write this show off as overly gratuitous because, well, it is. Everything here is turned up to 11, from the gore and nudity to the drama and tragedy. I kind of feel the same way about this show as I do for V for Vendetta, where if they cut the crucial tragic backstory it would make the work as problematic as the haters say. But with Lucy’s heartbreaking backstory left intact, it definitely elevates the story into something greater. The manga is still (mostly) better, but I have to give the show credit for introducing it to me, and also cutting out the character who constantly pisses herself.

14. Smiling Friends

Sure, the wacky shitpost humor and the black comedy are great, but can we just stop and marvel at how uncynical the show is? The core concept is a cheerful optimist and a bitter realist work together in a business that helps people be happy, and despite all the hijinks they get into they typically end up succeeding in one way or another. In a world where so many adult animated shows seem to revel in pessimistic nihilism (cough Rick & Morty cough), it’s nice to see a comedy with similar humor but a more optimistic outlook.

13. Ed, Edd n Eddy

This is one of the absolute funniest shows ever, making great use of the cartoon world to pull off the most wacky slapstick you'll ever see. But I think what truly pushes this series this high is the absolutely fantastic sound effects and music it utilizes. Like, holy shit this show is on another level. It all goes a long way towards making up for the living sexual assault joke that is the Kanker sisters.

12. SpongeBob SqaurePants

This show dropped almost nothing but bangers for three seasons, gave us one of the best show-to-film adaptations of all time, generated a near endless supply of memes, and was generally just really fucking funny. And sure, it dipped in quality a bit in its middle seasons, but I think the first three to three four seasons are good enough that they can fuck up as much as they want.

11. Invincible

Gee Amazon, how come you get to have two of the best superhero shows around? Where The Boys is more of a straight deconstruction of superhero tropes, Invincible feels like something of a reconstruction. We still have an evil Superman and morally dubious good guys, but Invincible himself is utterly unyielding in his desire to be good to the point he manages to break down his evil father’s emotional walls and save the world (for the moment) simply by being a loving son. Unwavering goodness even in the face of genuine horror is badass as all hell.

10. Full Metal Alchemist: Brotherhood

Not to be a stereotypical weeb, but this show is simply a masterpiece. Now I will admit, the first half of the show was honestly done way better in the original series, and that one also had some interesting takes on some of the characters once it started diverging from the manga. But this series has a much better finale with way better character moments, with stuff like Envy's final fate hitting harder than anything the original show could muster. There's a reason anime fans suck this show's dick so much; it genuinely is that good.

9. A Series of Unfortunate Events

I’m sure I wasn’t the only one disappointed that the original movie never got a sequel, so my hopes were high going into the Netflix series. Needless to say, I ended up extremely impressed; considering how they managed to incorporate the VFD plotline from the very start instead of throwing it in later in the series, I might even go as far as to call it an improvement on the books. I think the most surprising thing here is that despite expecting NPH as Count Olaf to steal the show, it’s actually Patrick Warburton’s portrayal of Lemony Snicket himself that brings the whole show together.

8. Peacemaker

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I think this one speaks for itself.

7. Futurama

I love all of Matt Groening's shows, from the loose family sitcom shenanigans of The Simpsons to the great overarching plotline of Disenchanted. But it's really not surprising that the middle ground between tightly-plotted continuity and great humor is my favorite of his works. The best part of the show is no matter how many times it ends, it always comes back and finds new ways to bust your gut and tug at your heartstrings.

6. Gravity Falls

Disney has had many great TV shows in their time, but quite frankly nothing compares to this animated supernatural mystery series about a pair of twins having their summer vacation at a shitty scam shack. The episodes are mainly episodic with hints at the bigger lore, and it doesn't really ever feel like it's dragging its feet. It also didn't overstay its welcome, telling a fantastic story over the course of two seasons before gracefully bowing out while on top. Very few shows can say they ended in top form.

5. Jane the Virgin

One fine day I came home from work to find my wife watching this on Netflix. Curious, I sat down and watched it, not expecting much... and then proceeded to become so emotionally invested in the show I spent the rest of the series shouting at the screen as if the characters could hear me. It's sweet, funny, and absolutely ridiculous, a loving tribute to the telenovelas that inspired it, and a blessing unto this world for giving us the gift of Rogelio.

4. Avatar: The Last Airbender

Yeah, real bold and daring of me to say this is probably the best Western animated series ever, but it’s hard to deny that it’s true. With a rich world, excellent characters, and a strong story it’s to the point where the worst episode would be perfectly fine in any other show, and the best episode doesn’t even feature the titular Airbender at all. It’s just that good.

3. Breaking Bad

You know me, I love character studies of awful people, and few fictional villains are as awful as the egotistical meth manufacturer Walter White. Watching his rise and fall, the numerous moments where he goes further beyond the pale than before, is endlessly gripping, and the fantastic cast of characters helps keep things just as good even if we aren’t following Walt. Mike, Jesse, Gus, Skyler, the Salamancas, Hank, Saul… all of them are fantastic in their own right and could easily carry their own show. Speaking of which, about that last guy...

2. Better Call Saul

As much as I think Breaking Bad is objectively the greatest show ever, I prefer Better Call Saul. In hindsight, you can kind of tell Walter was bad from the start, but Jimmy “Saul Goodman” McGill? We watch him go from a morally dubious but ultimately well-intentioned man into the sleazy bastard he was in the original show, and it is genuinely heartbreaking. This show makes you truly dread the moment Jimmy fully becomes Saul, and considering how beloved the funny lawyer man was that is no small feat. The story of a good man falling from grace only to ultimately claw his way back to ultimately reclaim his humanity in the end… it’s beautiful.

1. JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure

I don’t think I could possibly overstate the influence this series has had on me and my writing. The personalized superpowers, the meaningful names, the numerous musical references, the unashamed embracement of even the most ludicrous elements of the stories… If you read the Rhine City stuff you can clearly see where I’ve let the JJBA influence seep in. But even outside the influence, it’s just a damn good action/adventure series, with no part being truly bad (4 - 6 are my favorites, though). It’s never a dull moment watching what sort of insane feats the Joestar family and their allies will pull off against the increasingly deadly forces of evil; here’s hoping we get to see Steel Ball Run sooner than later.

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