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siempre-bucky · 2 years

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Soft Spoken

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Fem!Reader

Summary: Jake's loud and obnoxious tone of voice made you want to vomit. You only knew his arrogant drawl but on a rare occasion, you get to hear the softer tone of Hangman's voice.

wc: 1.3k

a/n: I'm a Bob girl but Hangman being a secret nice guy makes me weak...

Jake Seresin only had two tones of voice in your opinion. Loud and cocky. That’s how the two of you met, the pilot barreling into your hanger shouting with his Texas drawl being thickened by his frustration. You yelled at him with the same amount of arrogance and bitterness as he complained about the repairs to his plane. Seresin’s obnoxious arrogance didn’t even fade a bit when he apologized after your repairs saved his life.

After that day, the loudness started to dim but the obnoxious tone only heightened. Whatever arrogance-filled comment made your ear drums shrivel and your lips form a frown. Hangman’s voice was the worst part about him and he made sure to talk to you every day, much to your vexation.

“Shit,” you groaned, blinking for some sort of comfort. You’d been staring at your bright screen for God knows how long and the dry eyes and rumbly stomach was the proof. The screen went dark, and the red numbers of your alarm clock shone from your desk. It was only eight, the sun had just gone down on the other side of your blackout curtains.

Your bones cracked as you rolled out of your bed, your oversized Navy t-shirt rising with your arms as you stretched your exhausted body. Hearing the low rumble again, you turned on your lamp and swiped your wallet off the light-colored wooden desk. The vending machine on the floor below you was newly stocked and it was calling your name.

After you exited the elevator the silence of the floor was cut short. Your ears perked at the low smooth voice coming from one of the dorms. Your eyebrows raised, the man's voice was smooth as silk and made you gravitate closer.

You were hooked on every muffled word coming from the room in the middle of the hall, assuming it was his room because it was the only one with an open door. You noticed that he had an accent, only appearing occasionally from how soft he spoke. Halting just before the door’s opening, you pressed your back against the hall to listen to him more.

God, he sounded like one of those men who recorded those audiobooks you’d sometimes listen to as a means to fix your insomnia. You definitely wouldn’t mind falling asleep to the sounds of the stranger's voice. Why were you swooning over a man’s voice? But it was a very enchanting voice, beautiful and full of care.

The anticipation was slowly starting to get to you with your fingers beginning to twitch from the jittery feeling in your body. You had to know who he was; just one small peek and you’d be on your way to the vending machine. Slowly, you turned and poked your head in to see his back to you. He was a tall blond with strong shoulders, his muscles could still be seen, though mostly hidden because of his black shirt. He sat at his desk with a book in hand, two children no more than eight years old smiling over a video call.

The man’s smooth voice kept pulling you away from the comfort of the wall until you were leaning against his door frame with your arms crossed.

“Uncle Jake, there’s a girl behind you,” the little boy whispered, his hand covering his giggling mouth.

The man placed the children’s book on his knee and turned around. A freezing chill ran through your warm system, your blood turning ice cold as the green eyes of Hangman met your own. Your jaw clenched so tightly that you swore it would break and you struggled to keep your composure.

The enchanting, well-spoken voice belonged to the man that completely vexed you.

“Well, well, well,” he hummed lowly, arrogance simmering at the surface. Hangman turned the rest of his body and scooted away from his desk. “Abby, Tommy…this is Y/N, the best mechanic in the Navy,” he introduced in the same tone he used while reading their bedtime story. Jake just smirked at you as the kids greeted you. It wasn't condescending but it also wasn’t reassuring, what the hell was it?

“H-hello,” you greeted bashfully, sending them a small wave. Jake murmured something to the kids before placing them on mute and turning his attention fully to you.

“What brings you down here, Y/N?” he asked.

There it was again. That handsome bastard saying your name without an ounce of flirtation or the signature way he growled your name just to get under your skin. Your name spilling from his chapstick-covered lips felt, right? It was almost soothing. Before you knew it, your heart had melted at the softness of Jake Seresin and the way his voice changed when there was no one to impress or flirt with—just an uncle calmly reading the kids Winnie the Pooh.

You suddenly liked the soft side of Hangman. You suddenly liked him.

“The, uh, guys restocked the vending machine—you want anything?” you recovered not so smoothly and when he slouched in his chair and his smirk grew wider, you knew he caught on.

“No thanks, princess,” he chuckled. He then eyed you up and down, his tongue swiping along his lower lip, “but you’re more than welcome to stay and finish the story with us.”

You hummed and nodded along as he spoke. There was a small pause before you had the courage to speak again. “I’ll stand for a bit.”

Jake flashed another knowing glare before he carried on with the ending of the book. You don’t remember how you got there, but you were sitting on the foot of his bed and watching his thumb graze the spine of the book while he read.

“Enjoy the show?” he taunted as he shut his laptop and placed the book on top of the silver surface.

There was the Jake you knew and loathed. You huffed and rolled your eyes, crossing your legs on his bed. “You should speak like that more often—people might like you better,” you teased in return. Hangman let out a small chuckle and ran a hand through his short hair.

“You mean, you’d like me better.” You refused to look but you just knew that his signature cocky smile was plastered on his perfect face.

“If only the sound of your voice didn’t fuck up my eardrums all the time, Hangman.” You chose your next words wisely. You didn’t want to call him ‘soft’ and have the man argue with you till the end of time. “If you spoke like this,” your hand came up and made a circle motion, “I might go out with that Jake.”

Hangman came closer in his chair, close enough that you could see the small and pretty lines on his forehead. “And how did I sound?” he asked in a hushed voice, the small rasp made you shiver.

“Comforting—and I think I’d like to get to know this side of you if there’s anything left of him.”

Jake leaned in a little closer and slowly placed his hand on your knee just in case you turned him down. “How about Friday? I’ll bring a big kid book to read by the beach,” he offered.

Even his touch felt different. You were accustomed to sharp pats on the back as he nonchalantly thanked you for your work and the tight clutching of your wrist as he guided you through the crowd of the Hard Deck. His large hand sat there, the warm touch causing a fire to spread on your skin.

Your eyes flashed upward to him. “Fine,” you agreed. He started to close in the gap but you placed your hand on his chest to stop him. “So am I really the best mechanic in the Navy?”

“If I say yes will you let me kiss you?” he sighed, his frustration beginning to grow like it always does with you.

“Yeah.”

His lips covered yours and as he pulled away he spoke softly, “You’re the best mechanic in the Navy, Y/N.”

His words warmed your body, the familiar tingle made you giggle before kissing him again, your hand resting on top of his and the vending machine long forgotten.

#jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #top gun #top gun: maverick #hangman imagine #hangman fanfic #jake seresin imagine #top gun fanfic #top gun maverick fanfic

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daydreamgoddess14 · 10 months

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Saturday Mornings

MASTERLIST

🤸‍♀️ Well , well, well, didn't take long to get me back on my bullshit, did it? 🤣 I bring you a Roy Kent smutty one shot. Enjoy the gorgeousness of this man 🥵

Roy doesn't have a thing for Phoebe's dance teacher. Until he does. 👀

For @littleesilvia 😘

Saturday Mornings

Saturday morning had always been for Phoebe. From the day she was born, Roy had dedicated every Saturday morning to her. In the first weeks of her birth, he'd let himself into his sister's house and picked up a squawking Phoebe from the moses basket and taken care of her from 6-10 am so his sister could get more sleep. In those early days, he'd spoken to her in his deep, gruff voice while she drifted in and out of sleep. Then they'd go for a walk to the shop, the neighbours peeping into the buggy until Roy had growled at them to "Fuck off and stop gawping at her, she's trying to fucking sleep." As she got a little older, it became cartoons and cereal - devoured together on the sofa, and then a trip to the park. He'd arranged everything for 9 years around his Saturday mornings with Phoebe. Even away matches with a midday kick off didn't stop him, it didn't matter if it was an hour, or five hours - match day or no match day, rain or shine, if he was single or not, Uncle Roy would be there. Their time alone together moved through her swimming lessons phase, gymnastics phase, and morphed into his coaching her kids team. He wanted to be on board with this next phase - really, he did.

After 8 weeks of lessons, he'd finally put his finger on what the problem was. The dancing was nothing new, Phoebe had tried ballet, tap, some weird toddler baby dance shit. 16 weeks ago, she'd switched to some kind of pop/tween dance class with a lovely older woman who mostly sat to one side and pointed to each move, each music transition. It had been great, 8.30-9.30am every Saturday, fucking wonderful. Then 8 weeks ago, that woman had switched classes and you had taken over. You, with your tight Tik Tok leggings and your cropped t-shirt. You who showed the kids each move over and over again. The number of dad's attending the class had suddenly gone up. It had been 6 months since he thought that he and Keeley could try again, but she'd made it clear that that was not the case. He'd been single for longer than 6 months before, sure, but not for a long time. Back then in his younger days, he'd thought nothing of a mutually convenient resolution with a friend until he met his next significant other. He’d come to the conclusion now that he was too fucking old for a friends with benefits situation.

If it was just Saturday mornings that were the problem, he could live with that. He started out by taking a book and ignoring the class completely, but Phoebe did not like that at all. So he switched to audiobooks, brought a pair of fucking ear buds so he could drown out the sound of your voice, your gentle encouragement and the giggles. If it wasn’t the leggings going to tip him over the edge, it was going to be the giggles. Or the praise. Weird, he didn’t realise he had a bit of a praise kink before. Then he heard you in a breathy voice saying something that definitely could apply to situations other than a 9 year olds dance class and nearly had to leave the room. No, it wasn’t just Saturday mornings anymore. You came to mind now at the most inconvenient times. Sitting on the bike while Jamie pulled him along at 5am when shouting at Jamie in the street would have been frowned upon and they instead trained quietly, whenever one of the kids dance routine songs came on the radio and he was forced to relive watching you teach them, at night in the dark when he was alone, in the shower… He absolutely had to stop thinking about you like this. Like you’d see it in his eyes when you waved good morning, or when he held his bank card over your little hand held machine to pay for the classes. He also couldn’t stand the very much married men who flirted so openly with you. Clearly telling their wives at home, no love, I’ll take little… Mabel to dance class, you stay here and have a lie in and a cup of tea.

It was funny how they’d migrated from the later morning class which was run by a woman who had the body shape of a fucking pencil. Beautiful, yeah she wasn’t bad. But she didn’t have the strong thighs you did, the sweeping curve of your hip into a cute little waist. He couldn’t go another week like this. Had to stop now, stop being so pervy. He was no better than the other blokes who came to watch their kids' class. Except he was slightly better, because he was actually single.

“Uncle Roy, we’re here, come on!” Phoebe was already half out of the car. He braced himself for another week of torture.

“Good morning guys! Come in, I’m just getting set up.” You called out from across the room. He was a bit too early really. Not intentionally, of course not. You were still in your hoodie, still setting up the portable speaker and drinking a Costa coffee. You put a song on in the background and he had to hold his breath while you pulled off the warm grey sweater. As it came off, it pulled the baggy cropped t-shirt up as well, exposing your sports bra underneath, the soft skin of your stomach. It was definitely soft whenever he thought about it anyway. You straightened yourself out and sat on the floor, stretching your legs out in front of you and reaching forward to your toes. Phoebe lept out of her seat, threw her coat at Roy and plonked herself down in front of you, mirroring your pose. “Joining me for a warm up Phoebs?”

“It’s important to warm up. My Uncle Roy is a football coach and he says it’s the most important part.”

“He’s not wrong.” You smiled, moving through some other poses and stretches. He was a dead man. This was it. The end, this was how it was going to go. You stretch your arms up as far as you can reach them, stretching out your back with a little pop. He tried to ignore the fucking Grecian vase shape your body made, truly. Until you’d made a noise a little too close to a moan for his liking, followed by, “Holy shit that feels good.”

Fucking hell. Fucking hell .

“Sorry Phebs, didn’t mean to swear.”

“It’s ok. I’ll let you off the first time, but you owe me a pound next time.”

“Aww thanks.” The class soon filled up, he wished he’d taken a seat way at the back, out of the way so he could either look at you without it being so noticeable, or ignore you completely. He totally respected your classes, he really did. It was a tricky thing, conducting an age appropriate class for 9 year olds which avoided sexualising dance moves but also made them feel like they were able to move their bodies how they wanted to. Of course, it’s not always the dance moves themselves which could be seen as sexual, more often it’s the person watching who makes that connotation. And he tried so, so hard not to do that. Tried desperately to not think about how your body would move underneath his, on top of his, the beautiful sounds he could draw from you. He needed to get out, feigned a phone call, holding up his phone as he got to the door so you knew he’d be right outside if Phoebe needed anything. He didn’t think you’d even seen him until you gave him a little thumbs up.

At the end of the class, you encourage the kids to just sit for a minute. You all usually end up sprawled on your backs, not having to make eye contact makes it easier for some of the kids to talk openly if they wanted help or an opinion on something. It was somewhat of an eye opener for the parents as well. This week, you had the kids sit up so they could see you,

“I thought I might take you on a little trip, if you guys fancy it? I was going to go and see the new Barbie film after class next week. If any of you want to come with me, with your grown up - of course - then we could have a really exciting morning! I’m not allowed to take any of you without another grown up though, ok? So you’ll have to check with them first.” You handed each of them a little pink party invite. He already knew before Phoebe asked. Their match next week was on Sunday so he was free all of Saturday morning. He had no excuse to not take her, he also didn’t think he wanted one.

He hoped you were a little bit dumb. It was a horrible thought, he knew that, to wish stupidity on someone. But if there was any chance of him making a full recovery and banishing you to the depths of his mind, never to turn up again - especially not when he was in the shower with his hand around himself, he really fucking hoped that you were dumber than a box of rocks. You weren’t. He already had an inkling of that, but he could still live in hope.

“Fancy the Barbie movie next week?” You’d asked brightly as he’d held out his card to pay, he wasn’t sure if it was the physical and mental turmoil of having to watch you for the last hour, but he thought he could detect a sliver of hope in your voice.

“Fucking probably, she won’t let me say no.” Phoebe held out a hand for her pound. “Add it to my tab.”

And of course, that’s how he found himself in a dark cinema the following week with a gaggle of kids around him. He was still trying to work out if it was a blessing or a curse that he’d ended up sitting next to you - it had certainly earned him glares from one or two of the other grown ups. As you laughed again at another joke aimed to sail just over pre-teen heads, he knew it was a curse. It had to be. Forced to listen to that laugh for two hours? Fucking torture. When you cried, he knew he was done for. He reached over, just a little and patted the back of your hand in comfort. Just a little there, there gesture. You’d only fucking gripped his hand and squeezed it, he stole a glance at you and you’d given him a watery smile and a little lopsided shrug. Then you’d let go of his hand, and turned back to the movie. He had to spend the remaining 45 minutes of the film trying not to think about your warm hands carefully exploring his body.

The following week, he did it.

“Would you like to go for a coffee sometime?” He asked quietly as his card payment went through. He didn’t think you’d heard him until you looked up sharply.

"Aren't you like way out of my league?"

"What league is that then?”

“Well, you're in the ridiculously fit footballer league? Y’know for people who date supermodels and influencers?”

“I wouldn't fucking know about that.”

“I'm sure you would, I'm sure they don’t kick you out once you retire. Once a fit footballer, always a fit footballer? Is that the name of it? The… F. I. T? Or is it just the R.F.F.L?”

“What's that stand for?”

“No idea, it's your league, you tell me. Footballers Into Tits?”

“That’s a shit acronym”

“I know. I can do better, promise. Give me a minute.”

“I'm sure you'd be alright in that league” He said quietly,

“Excuse me? That was very cheeky. Ohh, maybe it could stand for ‘Filthy rich but Impossibly Tedious’?”

“That’s pretty good, definitely suits some footballers I know. Alright, fine. What fucking league are you in, then?”

“Whatever the Conference equivalent of the F.I.T is.”

“Now that can’t be true.”

“Oh yeah? How do you know?”

“I just fucking do. Is it a yes to coffee?”

“I mean, I still think you’re way too high up the F.I.T for me, but sure.”

“It’s the R.F.F.L actually.” He smirks as you hand him a flyer for the class.

“My number is on there.” You tell him, then you’d walked away without taking his number, which meant he was going to have to be the one to contact you first. No, you definitely weren’t dumb. Shit .

This wasn’t supposed to happen. It was a combination of factors really, a busy week at work meant though he’d messaged you quickly, he wasn’t actually able to meet for coffee until the end of the week. So you’d spent all week in a message exchange which had ranged from the sublime to the ridiculous.

“Would you rather fight 100 tiny Jamie Tartt’s or 1 giant one?”

“100 tiny ones. I’d fucking stamp on them all.”

“Figured out what league you’re in.”

“Enlighten me.”

“Champions League.”

“Fuck off am I. I’ve wikipedia’d your dating history mate. Gina Gershon? I think I should cancel coffee now…”

“Fuck, please don’t.”

“Do you always try so hard to look like you’re not looking at dance class?”

“No idea what you’re talking about.”

“Uhuh. Ok.”

“Yes, I do. Every week is torture.”

“Jamie says I’m too old for the R.F.F.L.”

“Maybe that works in my favour. If I’m up against Gina fucking Gershon, I’d have no chance.”

“You’re not up against anyone.”

“I've been thinking about you all morning.”

“Was that flirting? Were you just flirting with me?”

“Shut up. See you later.”

And now… well. Coffee at 3pm on a Friday turned into dinner at 6pm, dessert at 8pm and a nightcap at 10pm in his kitchen. You tapped the edge of your empty tumbler,

“Another?” He asked, leaning against the counter just across from you.

“No, thank you. I should… go.” The lift at the end meant it could have been a statement, could have been a question. He nodded,

“Early class.”

“Yep. I think we lost track of time.”

“Or not,” he offered,

“Or not,” you bit your lip and he felt indecision fluttering in his chest. He pushed off the counter and closed the gap between you both in only one step.

“If I kissed you now, would you be mad?” He asked softly, he could see your body tremble with the breath you took.

“Think I’d be more mad if you didn’t.” He watched you hold his gaze for as long as you could before looking at his mouth. He took the tumbler from you and put it on the counter before placing a careful hand on your hip and leaning down to kiss you. The warm whisky taste of vanilla and honey mingled with the chocolate from your dessert and Roy realised that no, he hadn’t been tortured before, watching you teach a bunch of kids how to dance wasn’t the way he was going to go. This was. Right here in his kitchen with your arms winding around his neck and bringing him as close as you could possibly get him. Your fingers scratching through his hair. He pressed you into the counter,

“I’ve thought about doing this for a long time,” he whispered, kissing down your neck, making you gasp. He pulled away quickly, worried that it was too much too soon, “Shit, sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” He went to move further back to give you space but your hands gripped his shirt to pull him back in,

“Please, I don’t want to stop,” you breathed heavily, “I don’t want you to stop.” You said, more firmly. He was against you again in an instant,

“Sure?” He asked, “You’re sure?” You stepped up to kiss him, making your feelings very clear,

“I’m sure.” Your fingers flew to the buttons of his shirt, undoing the first couple. He pulled you away from the counter, strong arms wrapped around your back and lifted you enough to move you both to the sofa. You stumbled against the cushions, falling backwards and pulling him with you so that he landed heavily on top of you.

"Oof."

“Fuck, sorry. You ok?” He sits back up on his knees, allowing you to automatically move your legs to either side of his and sit up,

“Never better,” his smile catches you off guard, “fuck, you’re gorgeous.” You mumble, reaching for him. The feeling is more than mutual. He needs to feel your kiss again, desperate to feel your skin on his. It’s better than anything he’d spent the last 8 weeks dreaming of. And the sounds you made as his hands and kisses explored your body were enough to drive him insane. He moves further down your body, pulling your skirt down with him and immediately turns to trail kisses and little bites along your inner thigh while his hand reaches up to link fingers with yours.

“Look at me,” he whispered, his breath hot against your hip. The simple request alone made your body turn to liquid against him. He’d spent so long thinking about (denying, debating, ignoring) the effect you had on him, he hadn’t actually considered that you would be just as affected by him. He wasn’t stupid, he knew he looked y’know, alright , for an older bloke. But still, seeing it first hand… seeing it first hand, hearing it first hand, from you was really something else entirely. You tugged his hand to bring up back up to you but he shook his head, his beard catching the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, “busy,” he said, his voice muffled. He focused on nothing but you, losing himself in each gasp, moan and clutch of your hand still holding his. He worked you through one bone-shaking orgasm without stopping, leaving you a shuddering mess as he went straight for another. Looking up at you, he could see the hand that wasn’t clinging onto him had covered your eyes. This time when you squeezed his hand, he made his way back up your body and settled between your legs. “You ok?” he asked, leaving soft kisses on your jaw before finally capturing your mouth in a filthy kiss. You didn’t speak, just shook your head. “You taste fucking incredible.” He kissed you again and you whimpered, finally moving your hand away from your eyes.

“I’ve got a problem.”

“Oh yeah?” He said, moving back to your neck, a hand slipping behind you to unclip your bra.

“Yeah I thought you’d only want a one night thing but that’s impossible now.”

“It was fucking impossible anyway. One night is definitely not enough time.”

“Oh,” you whispered weakly. “Good. Please-, oh fuck,” he caught a nipple lightly between his teeth, “please don’t stop.” So he didn’t, and he never would again if it was up to him. When he’d been (much) younger, he fully grasped the importance and concept of consent. He was a professional footballer - it wasn’t just important, it was crucial. But as he’d gotten older, he finally realised just how much better saying, and hearing, the words made everything. Being able to ask, “may I?” and “I need to hear you say it” and waiting, waiting, waiting, for the breathy response had never left him so wrecked before. He pushed into you in long, slow strokes while you met him with each roll of your hips. When you hold his jaw tightly to bring his gaze to yours, he nearly falls apart but he's determined to get you there first and he knows you're so close. "You feel so good-," you whisper, "So good."

"Fuck, I need-"

"I know, I'm right with you." His name is on you lips as you come and he thinks it's the most beautiful thing he's ever heard. When he joins you, he kisses you with such depth it's like you were made for him. You lay still together for a while as you catch your breath. He keeps his nose in the crook of your neck while his hand softly smooths across your ribs and the side of your breasts. Your legs no longer lock around him, you stretch out and enjoy the weight of his body covering you.

"'M crushing you," he mumbles. His voice so low in your ear makes you shiver and despite you not being ready for another round quite so soon, your hips buck, "Fucking hell, give me a minute," he laughs.

"You're not crushing me, and I'm not ready yet either," you grin into his hairline and kiss his temple.

"Hmm if you say so." He rocks against you, half hard again already, needing to hear the broken little moan that ghosts over his head. "Come on, I want you in a bed this time."

He wasn't happy when you had to tear yourself from his bed at 7am to go home. He wasn't happy when he picked Phoebe up at 8am. He wasn't happy in the drive thru Costa queue at 8.10am. He was happy at 8.20am when he finally got to hand you your coffee and see your smile as you stretched out on the floor of the dance studio. He was perfectly happy knowing that you'd be torturing his Saturday mornings for a while longer.

FIN

#ted lasso #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fic #roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent imagine #roy kent smut #roy kent x you #roy kent fic #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent fluff

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mysteriouslybluepirate · 6 months

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Queer Book Recommendations!!

I haven't really read a book book in years. Due to money problems and a lack of free time, audiobooks and AO3 were a MUCH cheaper option for me. But now that I'm struggling to fully read text posts on Tumblr I realize my attention span is shot. Reading novels is helping me tune out and focus in again. So I'm turning to queer novels written by my 'queer elders'.

For anyone who is struggling to get back into long form content after reading Fic for years, I highly recommend the books of TJ KLUNE (summaries of what I've read under the break).

If you are a fan of the 'escaping a shitty life and being welcomed into a found family' fanworks, this is the writer for you! All his stories center on home and feeling welcomed and loved. Of middle age and finding out who you are. Of finding love for others and yourself. He makes you hunger for that type of romantic and platonic love where people just know the real you. His stories also float by so quickly, there are so many things he does that I want to emulate his writing into my work.

Someone on Tumblr described the romances as: “what if a real life disney prince fell in love with the human equivalent of a wet paper bag?” and I agree 100%. All his protagonists are just like that, and I love them all.

(Also, this man definitely had an office job he hated, and writes office work culture as a death sentence in every one of his novels and I love it).

If you have any queer novels you love, don't be afraid to leave me a recommendation! (Especially WLW that isn't 'One Last Stop')

HAVE READ: The House in the Cerulean Sea : [An amazing love fantastical found family story (with a hint of romance)! I listened to the audiobook on Audible and absolutely loved it! I can't wait for the sequel coming out next year.]

Linus Baker is a lonely case worker for a governmental organization which manages orphaned kids who are magical beings.

One day, he's given a secret assignment to assess a special orphanage on the island of Marsyas, run by a man named Arthur Parnassus, who has secrets of his own. Among the six unique children living there, one of them is Lucy, short for Lucifer, who just happens to be the Antichrist.

Despite his initial reservations, as Linus's days pass in Marsyas, in this idyllic setting among a coterie of magical children, Linus finds himself coming across a little romance, an unlikely family and possibly even a home.

Currently Reading: Under the Whispering Door. [I know this is going to be heartbreaking, but I'm loving it, only on page 50/373. Will likely post something vague about how it made me cry lol]

When a reaper comes to collect Wallace Price from his own funeral, Wallace suspects he really might be dead.

Instead of leading him directly to the afterlife, the reaper takes him to a small village. On the outskirts, off the path through the woods, tucked between mountains, is a particular tea shop, run by a man named Hugo. Hugo is the tea shop's owner to locals and the ferryman to souls who need to cross over.

But Wallace isn't ready to abandon the life he barely lived. With Hugo's help, he finally starts to learn about all the things he missed in life.

When the Manager, a curious and powerful being, arrives at the tea shop and gives Wallace one week to cross over, Wallace sets about living a lifetime in seven days.

Planning on reading: In The Lives of Puppets(The book is on my shelf).

In a strange little home built into the branches of a grove of trees, live three robots—fatherly inventor android Giovanni Lawson, a pleasantly sadistic nurse machine, and a small vacuum desperate for love and attention. Victor Lawson, a human, lives there too. They’re a family, hidden and safe.

The day Vic salvages and repairs an unfamiliar android labelled “HAP,” he learns of a shared dark past between Hap and Gio–a past spent hunting humans.

When Hap unwittingly alerts robots from Gio’s former life to their whereabouts, the family is no longer hidden and safe. Gio is captured and taken back to his old laboratory in the City of Electric Dreams. So together, the rest of Vic’s assembled family must journey across an unforgiving and otherworldly country to rescue Gio from decommission, or worse, reprogramming.

Along the way to save Gio, amid conflicted feelings of betrayal and affection for Hap, Vic must decide for himself: Can he accept love with strings attached?

#They are utter delights #dont be surprised if my next long Izzy fic is inspired by 'under the whispering door' lol #Under the Whispering Door #The House in the Cerulean Sea #tj klune #Sometimes I just want to read a sweet queer love story with people older than 20 god damn it

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cafeacademia · 2 years

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𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐞

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: When Spencer's favourite cafe closes, he finds a new place to visit for his morning coffee ritual only he stumbles across a cafe that is home to another regular who just so happens to like playing chess. And just maybe he makes a move, on the board and the pretty girl that plays chess.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: None, just soft fluff. Small mention of slight injury, but it's nothing bad. Reader is soft and sweet and shy, some worry and concern towards the end but it's a pretty pure fic

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: Approx 2.2k

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Hello, it has been a loooong time! Please let me know what you think of this, feedback is super appreciated! I had a lot of fun writing this and I've been sitting on this idea for MONTHS, feck knows why it took me so long to write it 😅 anyway, it's here now, enjoy!

Spencer was not best pleased. The cafe he usually visited on his way to work, at lunch times and then after work had shut down, seemingly overnight. There had been no suggestion of it happening and when he had visited just the previous day, business was doing as well as usual, which for a central area, it was packed. But now the door was locked, lights off and paper signs were plastered over the windows with capital letters reading CLOSED DOWN, NO LONGER IN BUSINESS.

Where was Spencer supposed to get coffee now? Of course, there was the Starbucks at the end of the road on the corner, but their coffee was not quite right for his taste. He wasn’t willing to sacrifice his daily coffee ritual with vending machine coffee either. Spencer would have rather just drink mildly tepid milk over the acidic vending machine coffee that had punctual notes of cardboard and was far too watered down to even resemble coffee.

Okay, so maybe he’d become a bit of a coffee snob. Though, Spencer wasn’t sure that snob was really the right word here. In any case, not just any cafe would do. It wasn’t just the coffee he was looking for. He needed a cafe that felt nice to sit in, that felt nice to read while he was in the queue and if he had time, to sit in a corner and read and people watch.

But as he wandered a bit further away from work, Spencer reached the end corner of the road. He’d never been this way before. It was always straight from the subway to the cafe and then straight up the street to work. Peering around the corner, he saw a little sign in the shape of a coffee cup. Outside were a couple of covered wooden market stalls and from where he stood, it looked like they were crammed tightly with books.

With a quick glance at his watch, Spencer decided he had plenty of time to check it out and he was thankful that he’d been too much into his audiobook that morning to realise that he had left far too early for work.

Taking quick strides down the street, it began to rain as he made his way towards the cafe. The clouds darkened and with impeccable timing, Spencer made it underneath the cafe awning just in time before the rain came down in torrential sheets. The coffee shop was open and as he pulled the door to enter, he was suddenly pulled into the warm comforting vibe of the cafe. Oh, this is perfect, thought Spencer. There were quite a few customers, but everyone was quiet and going about their morning routines, drinking coffee and reading newspapers, books and enjoying the cafe. It was heavy on the book theme and there were shelves of used books everywhere in the shop. There was a sign above the largest bookshelf that read, take a book and leave a note in it for the next reader.

There were large, yellow lights strung along the far brick wall and it gave the most wonderful cosy feeling as Spencer took it all in. “Good morning sir, would you like to order anything?” There was an older man behind the counter. He had the most fantastic beard and it looked like he kept it in great condition, just like the cafe he worked in. Spencer didn’t think he’d ever seen such a well kept and well loved cafe before. “Uh, hi. Can I get a cappuccino please?” He asked as he approached the counter, giving the guy a tight lipped smile and as he reached into the inner breast pocket of his coat. “Sure, anything else?” He asked. “A croissant please.” And Spencer handed him the money as he looked around.

Spencer noticed as he was waiting for his coffee that behind him was a girl sitting at a table fairly close to him. She was beautiful. She had her hair tucked behind her ear as she concentrated hard on something. Spencer looked down at her table and realised that in front of her was a very small travel chess set and she was playing against herself. For a moment, while the sounds of the coffee grinder filled the shop, Spencer observed her, watched as she made a couple of moves.

It was interesting, he thought as he watched her. But as he did, he saw a good opening for a move on her board and he wondered if she’d take it. She’d paused her movements for a moment and Spencer thought she must have been thinking hard about her next move, but when he cast a quick glance up, he realised that she was looking right back at him with a rather curious little smile on her lips. In a sudden spark of confidence, Spencer stepped over to her table. “Sorry to interrupt your game, it’s very compelling, but you see if you make this move,” Spencer said, reaching out for the piece and when he saw that she was watching him with great interest, he proceeded. “You’re set to win the game after your opponent’s next move.” He said, moving the piece and watching as the smile on her face grew.

“Hm, interesting.” She spoke quietly. “I would have done this, though.” She said softly, undoing his move and immediately winning the game using a move that Spencer remembered seeing in one of the chess handbooks he’d read through before but never actually seen in practice. “Impressive.” Spencer nodded. “Thank you for letting me try, you’re good.” He said, turning away when the barista told him that his coffee was ready. “Thank you.” She replied. Spencer was eager to stay and chat to the pretty chess girl, but one quick glance at his watch told him that Hotch was going to have him if he lingered in the cafe for much longer. With a quick smile at her, he rushed off with his coffee and his croissant, hoping that his pastry wouldn’t get too soaked in the pouring rain as he rushed down the street to work.

The next day came and Spencer headed down to the same cafe. He wasn’t sure that he would see the pretty chess girl again, but as he entered the coffee shop, she was there, just like yesterday and it was almost as if she hadn’t moved at all. She sat at the same table with the same drink and the same book at the side of her with the same chess set. The only difference was the position of the pieces on the board and the clothes she wore.

“Hello, can I take your order?” The barista greeted him. Spencer ordered and the sound of his voice caught the girl’s attention. Looking up from her chess game she watched him. Almost like she was waiting for him to notice her. Just when she was about to make her next move, Spencer turned around after dropping some extra change from his wallet onto the counter as a tip. “Do you have time for a move again?” She asked, almost timidly. “I think I have time for one or two.” Spencer beamed at her, stepping towards her table and observing her board before he made his first move. “What’s your name?” He asked while he watched her make her move. She waited until she had moved her knight before she replied with her name. Her voice was soft and quiet. It made him feel warm and cosy and he wanted to listen to her more. She sounded sweet, oh he had an innate urge to tell her she was pretty. But Spencer resisted. “And what about you?” She asked. “Spencer.” He replied. “It’s nice to meet you.” He smiled, making his next move on the board. “It’s nice to meet you too, Spencer.” She mirrored his smile and he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt that warm and soft before. The way she said his name, so sweet and soft in her voice, sent butterflies through him.

“Is this your new morning stop?” She asked softly. “Yep, just down the road from work.” He told her. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then, Spencer.” She smiled up at him, meeting his eyes and he grinned back at her. “See you tomorrow.” He nodded before turning away to collect his coffee and walking away.

There was no denying in the days that followed that Spencer had a new air about him. “What’s got you all smitten Reid? You’ve been coming into work with a huge smile the last few days.” Morgan made the observation first. “Oh it’s nothing.” Spencer said, waving it off. “Mhm, nothing.” Morgan teased in a sarcastic tone. “Something nice about changing coffee shops, y’know?” Spencer told him. “You’re weird, kid.”

Spencer continued his routine of visiting the cafe every morning, making one or two moves on her chess board, exchanging some nice conversation with her before grabbing his coffee and heading off to work. This went on for over a week until his routine was disrupted with a case in another state and Spencer suddenly disappeared from her routine.

She had gotten used to him coming in and playing chess with her. She thought the first time that he didn’t show up that he just hadn’t had the time that day. But when he didn’t show up several days running, she thought that maybe Spencer had found a different cafe to go to or maybe he didn’t enjoy their conversation as much as she thought he did.

There was something about Spencer that drew her to him. He was sweet and kind and quiet like her. He was good at chess too and he was very handsome. His hair was pretty, his face even prettier. She found herself almost breathless at the thought of him. But she worried he might not come back to the little cafe again.

A week passed. A few more days went by and then suddenly, one morning in the pouring rain, just like the first day he had come into the cafe, Spencer stepped into the coffee shop. He was a bit damp from the run between the subway and the cafe, but still just as pretty. She looked up at him as he walked in, curious at his quick entrance and then concerned when she noticed the cuts along his eyebrow and cheek on one side of his face.

Spencer didn’t even need to order, the barista knew what Spencer wanted and went about making his usual order. “You’re back.” She spoke softly. “I am, I’m sorry I disappeared. I wanted to tell you but it was quite sudden.” He sighed. “What happened? Why are you hurt?” She asked. Spencer chewed on his lip for a moment, mulling over what to tell her. He looked at his watch. He had more than enough time today, he wasn’t due for the post case briefing for another forty minutes. Taking his coffee from the barista, he pulled the seat out opposite the girl and sat down. “I’m an FBI agent, I had to go to a different state to work on a case.” He explained quietly. “Oh.” Was all she replied with and Spencer thought for a moment that it had scared her to know that detail of his life. “Oh, well that makes so much more sense.” She smiled, giggling softly. “No wonder you are always in a rush.” She teased.

A comfortable silence formed and she watched him with soft, kind eyes. “Does it hurt?” She asked. “A little, I’ve had worse though.” He reassured her and she only smiled in response. She didn’t want to imagine the worse he had endured. “I’m glad you’re okay.” It was almost a whisper. “I was worried.” Her voice dropped and it had almost been inaudible. “You were worried?” Spencer asked. She nodded softly. “I’m right here and I have more time today, we can play a full game, if you want to?” Spencer asked. “I’d like that.” She nodded, tears coming to her eyes and Spencer realised just how important he’d become to her, as much as she had become to him too.

“You know what? I’ll make you a deal” Spencer said quietly. “What’s that?” “If I win this, I get to ask you anything. If you win, you get to ask me anything you want.” Spencer proposed. She thought on it for a moment and then finally agreed with a nod and a smirk. “Deal.”

They played, sipping coffee between moves until they were at the last part of the game. She looked like she might win, but before Spencer took his final move, he took one last look at her possible moves and realised he could use something he’d never done before against her. Pulling the move she had shown him on their very first meeting, Spencer looked up at her, smiled and said, “checkmate.” “Oh, well played mister Reid.” She giggled. “So, what will your question be?” She asked. He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts before looking over at her with a soft smile.

“Will you go on a date with me?” He asked. “I’d like nothing more.” She replied. “Now, tell me more about that job of yours.” “You gotta win a question.” He reminded her playfully. “I can beat you in five turns.” She boasted, raising laughter out of Spencer. “You’re on.”

𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐨𝐟 @/𝐭𝐞𝐚-𝐚𝐭-𝐭𝐡𝐞-𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐫. 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝, 𝐫𝐞𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐞𝐛𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞.

#spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #dr spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer x reader #spencer imagine #criminal minds imagine

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marabarl-and-marlbara · 1 month

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church notes from the adventists this week; very tired, not sleeping; yesterday made ube yogurt (had a big purple potato to use up) and a small carrot cake (using flax and protein powder mostly, had to use up carrots); cleaned a lot this week; almost done with hearts in atlantis audiobook, and my brilliant friend (physical); really like the illustrations i made for last orsday sabbaths programming; haven:t felt much motivation; reading blog (the untranslated, wordpress) on "graduate school" makes me want to learn languages to read more things -- language kind-of creepy: can:t remember if it were in programming or in DMs or some ask here but just-as music threads itself with control, control, control mechanism so-too does language and so-too does light and life; constant thrumming control, control, control and if you hear it, it sounds like little metal insects; in the inanimate driving forces of life (CONNECT!) are duller, but still there: light is like a fog heavy with bodies of fine insect only seeming invisible but surely there as any molecule or oxygen; may-be even you get used to it, so you cease to see it; shame i:m so senseless; really liking design of don zauker and UFO theme in pynchon--daitarn 3: invincible machine! mars and cold-pressed machine

#faith

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jakowskis · 8 months

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torchwood resources

just some stuff i've accumulated during this fixation :) hope it proves handy :D

ianto's-desktop (livejournal) - archived most of the things found on the torchwood website during season 1 and season 2; the only thing missing is the videos. / note: click the headers of the posts to see the full thing, or some stuff with appear incomplete. took me a sec to figure out, lol

speaking of the website...

season 1 website (archive.org)

season 2 website (archive.org) - unlike the s1 website, the bulk of the s2 site's content is pretty inaccessible through the wayback machine (at least for me; maybe i'm doing something wrong), so thank g-d for ianto's desktop

there's also a good amount of rebloggable site content in this person's tumblr tag.

season 1 declassified (youtube)

season 2 declassified (youtube)

season 1 commentaries (mega.nz)

torchwood books (google drive) - gonna be honest, i haven't tried to download any of these myself

border princes audiobook (read by eve) + all of the radio plays (archive.org)

torchwood magazines (beta.reddit) - download links for all of them! p fuckin kewl

torchwood official yearbook (archive.org)

herecomesthedrums (youtube) - account that started posting before the show came out and is chock full of promos, trailers, interviews... some real fun goodies in there

torchwood: up close (youtube) - handful of bts videos with the cast + crew

season 1 unreleased tracks (soundcloud) - the end of days ones hrhghgh

out of time unreleased tracks (soundcloud) - i absolutely adore the music in this ep so i was so happy when i found these

the torchwood fanpop - this has sooooooo much content like i scrolled for a loooooong time and never reached the bottom. lotta stuff i hadn't seen before, too. there's fun hd promo pics, pics of the cast, and a lot of extremely early 2010s edits, graphics, and fanvids. / note: i also had this page bookmarked + it's got different content than the main page so i'll link it

aaand under the cut i'm gonna dump some silly stuff i've collected of the cast. but yeah, there ya go :-)

gally 2015: zip files of someone's pictures of eve, naoko, and burn (livejournal)

gally 2015: someone's account of the torchwood panels + meeting the cast (everyone was there but gareth!) - naoko & burn's solo panels / autograph table chats + barrowman photo-op + the naoko&burn&eve group panel / barrowman solo panel + burn&eve joint panel

dragon con 2013 (flickr) - i found two albums: this one, and this one, which has torchwood cast images on the first and second pages.

burn at chicago tardis 2012 (flickr) - ehehe 2012-2013 burn gorman w his classy little outfits my beloved. this is just hq pictures of that event. burn's in a bunch at the top and some at the end of the second page

the hub 2009 (flickr) - some kind of torchwood event. gareth, burn, eve, kai, and tom are all there. i dunno

hvff 2018: 'insights from the whole cast'

hvff 2018: video of everybody goofing off (twitter)

gareth endorsing owandy teehee (twitter) - this is getting dumped here bc im gay

sigh. (blogspot) - pics from that one fuckin 08 panel where gareth & john made out like 5 times + gareth took his jeans off for some reason. i don't even go here but i feel like this is unfortunately historically relevant. also the fujoshis in the comments are really funny

incomplete but sizable lists of cons gareth's been to and john's been to, in case anyone wants to dig around for photos/footage of any of these. the other cast members (excluding burn, for some reason) all have pages on this site as well, but theirs are super incomplete so i won't bother linking

#torchwood #mine #txt #torchwood posting #might update w more #ohhhh internet archive my beloved #... ngl i am hoarding some other stuff. but woohoo this means i can delete one of my laptop folders hehehee

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batsarebetterthanpeople · 3 months

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#hyper specific poll

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indieninja92 · 5 months

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Your posts and reblogs have intrigued me. Where might one listen to the audiobooks for the Murderbot series?

yesssssssss theyre so goooood!!

So your first port of call should be your local library, of course. They're likely to use the app Libby, but if you don't have a library card yet you'll need to get one. (You should get a library card anyway tbh)

However, there's no guarantee your library will have them all, because of the incredibly fucked up way that audiobook licensing works for public libraries. Check their catalogue anyway, you might get lucky! (And if they don't, there's all sorts of other books you can listen to and support your local library!)

Failing that, I recommend Libro.FM. They have the whole series available, and you can either sign up for a membership or buy the books without the membership. They also support a bricks-and-mortar independent bookshop with each purchase - I support one in Maynooth!

There are also other audiobook apps like Kubo and Everand, but I've never used them or looked into their ethics so can't recommend them.

Finally, if you don't want the faff of a new app, you can buy audiobooks outright from some online stores, but its highly dependent on availability. I usually buy mine from Hive here in the UK but they don't have the Murderbot books, you might be able to find other options.

So many options! And none of them Amazon! 🤩🤩 Go forth and enjoy Kevin R Free's delicious narration as the most adorable killing machine in the system (who would absolutely rip my arms off for describing it that way 🥰)

#murderbot #the murderbot diaries #martha wells

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kekamao · 5 days

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DRAFT START i so love seeing bajillion AM drawings and memes on my tl but i feel like i could never draw him because.. I've listened to the audiobook on youtube first(at nightshift at work.. so i poorly remember it + english isn't my native so I might've missed some parts although that wouldnt be much) before trying the game.. and to me he.. like .. uh.. literally incomprehensible (?) like.. now that i think about how to phrase it i started to wander towards the possibility of viewing him as like AM not just the machine someone built, but the one who thinks ykyk???.. so like.. not as physical as just.. code.. electricity signals or smth..

urgh sory i just woke up and started thinking about all and everything and gh im hungry goootbie

DRAFT END(more thoughts under the cut)

i think what i really meant there is that he doesnt have a conclusive(?) external body as he connects all over the.. things(im talking about AM early in the morning again soz my thoughts are probably gonna be incoherent agian) likelikel ike liek uhhhhhhhhhhh he can be many things..... he's the whole uhh i need to relisten to the audiobook but like hes everything that toaster over there that will almost kill you if you touch it? thats AM. that terrifying gigantic murder machine over here? thats AM. this roomba? AM. ykyk?

#kekablabbers!!#should i tag this #meh why not #am ihnmaims #ihnmaims #draft posting #added some thoughts to the draft #that are almost the opposite of what i wrote in it #i cannot think im sorry

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hrrystylesbookclub · 8 months

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it’s been DAYS and i just can’t get over the way i sobbed while finishing babel.

i’m not someone who cries over fiction. it affects me 100%, but never before have i actually cried. and i didn’t just cry, i SOBBED

/spoilers ahead/

because it gets to a point where you as the reader knows that there’s no way for robin out of this but death, and you can just feel how robin completely lost his will for self preservation once ramy was killed. So you have this poor tortured tragic figure who has had everything ripped from him and sees no way out and you sympathize because you’ve been in his head this whole time and you know in your soul what he has to do. but then there’s victoire, sweet brave victoire who has also lost so much you as the reader feel the ache in your core, but the one thing she hasn’t lost is her will to live.

to me, the most devastating part was them saying goodbye. i cannot imagine the grief victoire must have been drowning in knowing that once she leaves, robin is gone. but the strength she possesses to have two of your closest friends be killed as a result of the corrupt institution she used to love, and the other to utterly betray the rest of them, ultimately aligning herself with people who look like her yet don’t respect her because she is a woman, as opposed to the people she loved and considered her closest friends just because she was scandalized that they would take issue with the imperialism that directly affected their lives. victoire is undoubtedly the bravest and strongest minded character i’ve read, and i hope and pray that she was able to start a good life for herself after leaving.

back to robin, those final moments we get of him and the rest who decided to stay behind and destroy the tower… hearing them weep about not wanting to die yet shattered my heart into tiny pieces. my mind was scrambling trying desperately to come up with a solution, a way that they could live AND destroy the tower AND get away unpunished, despite knowing it was hopeless. three of them were students. students who had been ripped from their homelands to become cogs in the machine of the british empire. i cant even find the words to express how i cried

i think it’s partly because i listened to the audiobook, because the narrator was phenomenal and put SO much emotion into their voices that hearing them in their final moments… the most chilling thing i’ve ever heard

#babel #rf kuang

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the-raging-tempest · 2 months

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Catch Up Time!

💕Tagged by @arendaes and @camelliagwerm💕

Last Song: Die Young by Sylvan Esso

Currently Watching: Fantasy High! (Junior Year) The Glass Cannon Podcast (Gatewalkers! And slowly catching up with Get In The Trunk)

Three Ships: …. you can’t do this to me. The ship on my mind… LMAO oc x oc content you can’t do this to me…

Favorite color: I feel like it’s always changing right now I’m liking a mint green.

Currently Reading: I’m Glad my Mom Died (audiobook) by Jennette McCurdy

Currently consuming: Like food? I’m drinking coffee haha

First Ship: LIKE EVER??? … Warrior cats girlies rise up. Graystripe and Silverstream

Place of Birth: Los Angeles babey

Relationship Status: Been with my partner for years LMAO

Last Movie: Oh my god… fucking… Hot Tub Time Machine… look I had never seen it. And my partner was like ‘it’s incredibly forgettable’ and then we watched in on Netflix LMAO a lot of it… did not age well

Currently Working On: I mean when am I ever not working on Commander As Companion which I should have a follow up post this weekend for them both. I also just enjoy writing the silly little things that come to mind.

#tag game #personal

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smolhoneybat · 3 months

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hi! i've been a fan for quite a while. i really admire how you seem to articulate, i found myself becoming more introspective with every video. also it's really nice to see someone talking about games and series i really love. aside from that, i wanted to ask if you had any recommendations like games, books, shows, movies?

hi hi!! thank you so much, pinning the words down is hard but worth it haha 💛

Ooh I have so many... obviously there's the games and shows I've talked about on my channel but standouts would have to be Darkwood, Nier Automata and Arcane but ALSO

Games: -A Space for the Unbound: chill fetch quests in a small town in rural Indonesia, finish your summer bucket list with your gf, pet cats, dive into the subconsciousnesses of your neighbours!

-Ender Lilies: metroidvania platformer with some tight controls like Hollow Knight, gorgeous artwork and music, you play as Lily, a young amnesiac priestess trying to purify the spirits of the dead and stop the plague ridden rain that won't stop falling, you're small and weak but you recruit different spirits to fight with you but it never feels overwhelming or bloated, really enjoyed it

-Signalis: survival horror as an android looking for her gf, she made a promise and she's going. to. fulfil. it. Dystopian future in space with lots of good old rusty machine body horror, strange senses of time and memory and there's some puzzles in there too.

-Sunless Sea: Victorian London was moved underground by bats. Don't worry about it. Go sail the seas and try and turn a profit without losing your mind from the Horrors ^.^ (deceptively a lot of reading in this, plays like a management sim meets VN)

-Omori: 4 years ago Something happened. Omori dreams his days away in his room, carefully not thinking about that Something. Some of the game is in his colourful dream worlds and some out in the real world. Fights are always tinged with emotional rock paper scissors as how you, your friends and enemies feel will affect the fight! He's about to move house and an old friend comes knocking on the door...

(-alsoPathologicisgoodyesI'moneofthoseyoutubers)

Books: -Va11-Hall-A: I...don't know whether to put a VN under games or books so I'm putting it between the two. You're a barista in a cyberpunk kinda world, you listen to patrons while making them drinks and chat. (It's chill but sometimes gets pretty heavy and has a lot of mature topics in it for the record.) -Deathless by Cathrynne M. Valente: an alternate history book that has one foot in the Russian Revolution and the other in fairytale. Marya Morevna marries Koschei the Deathless, and goes back to his kingdom. She makes friends with various folklore creatures, checks in on her sisters who all married birds and her old and new lives begin to collide.

-The Locked Tomb trilogy by Tamsyn Muir: sci-fi necromancers vie to become the next right bony hand of God, first book is a murder mystery, second is a grim tale by a survivor of the first but something is Wrong and you know it is, third is an oddly domestic political tragedy and I loved them all so much, cannot recommend the audiobooks in particular enough (as the first is a murder mystery, all the voices the narrator does are both incredibly well done but let me pinpoint exactly who was speaking even when I couldn't remember their names, also she voiced Daniella in Haunting Ground!)

-The Gentleman Bastards series by Scott Lynch: small orphan becomes a conman in fantasy Italy. Ends up being drawn into some political intrigue and fucks around finds out, frequently!

-Children of Time: Spiders! Once upon a time an arrogant scientist decided to infect monkey with a virus that would encourage rapid evolution within cooperative species but...it reaches jumping spiders. They have their own form of sign language with vibrational tappy patterns against the ground and wiggling their palps! Scientist's consciousness has melded with an AI and is waiting for her monkeys to become intelligent enough to contact her

Misc: -Dungeon Meshi: do you want to learn about the ecosystem of a dungeon while also figuring out how to cook the creatures inside and watch a guy with a monster special interest live his absolute best life? Yeah you do! (I'm really enjoying this rn so ye)

-Mabel: podcast about a home health carer for an old lady who's only living relative, Mabel, is missing. Anna, the nurse, starts leaving her voicemails like a diary and slowly gets drawn into family secrets, fairy logic and goes exploring places she shouldn't (this one does not shy away from heavy topics including serious child abuse and its effects so if that's not for you then leave this one be)

#sorry this took a while to respond to I was chewing on what to recommend!#I'm sure I like some cheerful things too but I cannot for the life of me think of any #I mean A Space for the Unbound is pretty nice for MOST of it but the last section made me cry a lot

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