#i kinda had a fantasy last night in which Richard was like my actual other husband and he loved my husband too

[nichtaufgewacht]

Morgen. ☕️ So I had this fantasy last night…let’s just call it R + R = 🖤…

[t100ficrecsblog]

an interview with @ravenreyes-0g (she/hers)

what are you working on right now? I'm working on both my Bellarke fic for BLM and a personal fantasy story that I've written and rewritten from the beginning to about 5000000 times because my ideas keep changing. My Bellarke fic is a modern day COVID AU that is also the longest I've ever done so it's been taking a minute to finish! :) 

what’s something you’d like to write one day? A YA either historical fiction or realistic fiction LGBTQ+ romance. I have  a ton of ideas for plots, but I haven’t quite gotten the chance to sit down and try to plot them out. For historical fiction, I’m very interested in the 1900-1950s era, especially the Roaring 20s and WWI/II so I’d most likely set it there! I’m all in for the angsty romance, but I'd definitely want to end it on a happy note (unlike my current fantasy work) and I’m really looking forward to getting the chance to write a character driven story that doesn’t focus so much on heavy plot elements - something I can’t do as much in a fantasy setting!

what is the fanwork you’re most proud of? This one is actually pretty hard considering how my writing style has developed since I started writing fanfics. But if I had to choose, I’d probably say my FirstPrince (Alex/Henry from Red, White, and Royal Blue) fic on Ao3 called To Love Another Is to Cherish Life Itself. The title is a bit dramatic but basically it is an angsty/fluffy one-shot that I wrote really late one night and did minimal edits to before posting. It definitely feels like the most in character and honest fic I’ve ever done, and it broke my heart to write about some of the darker stuff, but in the end I’m pretty proud of it! 

why did you first start writing fic? Well, I’ve been writing fanfics since I was probably 10 or 11 years old (I had PJO phase that spanned close to a decade and I’m still not totally over it 😂) but I started publishing work on Wattpad literally the night I turned 13. That was actually my first Bellarke/the 100 fic! It started out as my predictions for season 5 and then evolved into a fix-it fic for everything I didn’t like about the season. I’ve abandoned it for almost two years, but I’m slowly coming back to it so...slow updates y’all :)

what frustrates you most about fic writing? Everything! Just kidding - I love fic writing! But if I had to choose, probably two main things tho. 1) Creating a plot for a long term fic - I’m sooooo bad at it because I always feel like I’m writing too much in line with the actual show/book/movie and it feels like copying. 2) Making sure that I stay honest to the character I’m writing about. I have a huge tendency to write my fics (ESPECIALLY my one-shots) from the POV of the character who was not the main character in the original thing (like my POV for my RWRB fic is Henry, the love interest of Alex/other main character). This means that the only look inside their head that we’ve gotten has been through the eyes of the main character - which can obviously be biased. I try to stay as honest as I can to my interpretation of the character drawn directly from the text - but sometimes that means that I can’t include scenes that I want to because it feels off/out of character and that’s always disappointing. (also dialogue is just...something I really need to work on)

what are your top five songs right now? Ahhh see it changes on my day/mood but right now it’s probably

1. The Last Great American Dynasty - Taylor Swift 2. The Garden - Dua Lipa 3. Mirrorball - Taylor Swift 4. Icarus - Emma Blackery 5. Betty - Taylor Swift 

(taylor really blessed us with folklore...I’m in love)

what are your inspirations? Ahhh - there are many. First and foremost, The Book Thief by Marcus Zusak. It’s my favorite book for so many reasons, but it teaches me so much about writing and character development. Also Liesel and Rudy melt my heart every time. I also love all the songs listed above for inspiration, and I listen to I Get To Love You by Ruelle (it’s the Malec wedding song for any Shadowhuners fans out there!) whenever I write a really emotionally intense romantic scene. If you’re looking for amazing fic recs, I highly recommend all of HMS-Chill’s works (multi fandoms), clarkesbell, and DracoWillHearAboutThis on Ao3. Though not all of them write Bellarke/the 100, if you are in any of their fic fandoms, I highly recommend checking them out because they are fantastic writers!

what first attracted you to Bellarke? what attracts you now? Honestly? #1 - their development. I love enemies to lovers with my whole heart, but I honestly didn’t see Bellarke as romantic until the 2x05 hug where I was just hit with a wave of OMG THEY BELONG TOGETHER!!! Seriously, though, the fact that they go from enemies, to grudging allies, to co-leaders, to partners, to friends, to best friends, to soulmates just makes my heart go !!!! - Also they have insane chemistry, and that certainly doesn’t hurt. What attracts me to them now is much the same, but also how much they care about each other. They’d go to the ends of the earth to save one another, and it just blows me away how powerful their screen time is, even when their scenes together have become so rare. I also don’t thinkI’m ever getting over 6x10. I swear my heart actually stopped beating when I watched it live the first time. 

BESIDES Bellarke, what character or pairing do you like best on t100? Ha! Umm, I actually really like Murven, both platonically and romantically. Their journey might not be as well developed as Bellarke’s but it is still a powerful one hinging on love and forgiveness. I love how Lindsey/Richard play off of each other on screen - it’s such a joy to watch! I’ve also loved the Octavia/Indra dynamic, but it’s kinda been tabled in recent seasons which is sad :(

why did you decide to start writing for bellarkefic-for-blm? Two reasons - 1) I wanted to do everything I could for BLM and it was so amazing that I could do that, and write works for my favorite show! 2) I was super curious about the prompts people would send in. My work right now is a modern day AU COVID fic where Bellamy and Clarke have to share a room together in an overcrowded hospital until one day Clarke disappears. It’s so different than what I usually write - bc I almost always write canon compliant/in universe fics - so it’s a nice challenge!

what’s your writing process like? Honestly it depends. For long/multi-chapter fics I try to plan out as much of it as I can, characters, plot, important moments, etc - even though I am not very good at planning. But for one-shots I tend to go off of emotion or feelings. Usually when I write one-shots, it’s because a particular line or moment in a book/movie/show really spoke out to me, and spurred this idea in my head. I always start with the line I want to get to at the heart of the fic and then write around it from there. I am definitely much more of a panster than a planner- which is why one-shots work much better for me!

what are some things you’d like to recommend? 1. The Book Thief by Markus Zusak. Also, All the Bright Places by Jennifer Niven, The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue by Mackenzi Lee, Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo, Red White and Royal Blue by Casey McQuinston, The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller, Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe by Benjamin Alire Saenz. 2. Musicals! They can be amazing inspiration - my favorites are Les Mis, Hamilton, Dear Evan Hansen, Six, Everybody’s Talking About Jamie, Hadestown, Anastasia, Island Song, Newsies, & Tuck Everlasting! 3. TV Shows besides The 100 - Anne with an E, Shadowhunters (just pretend you haven’t read the books), French SKAM, Love Victor, HSMTMTS, Merlin, Lucifer, I think I’m just listing fandoms at this point 😂

Also, almost any Taylor Swift, Troye Sivan, Conan Gray, Dua Lipa, Emma Blackery or Harry Styles songs are amazing!

My handle is the same for everything - Twitter, Tumblr, Ao3, Wattpad (if anyone still uses that anymore), etc (RavenReyes0G). I also run a book review blog on Instagram which is @betweenthepagesandtea, so feel free to check that out too! Request a fic written by her via @bellarkefic-for-blm!

[buzzdixonwriter]

Sci-Fi And The Sincerest Form Of Flattery

I know many of you prefer “science fiction” or “science fantasy” or “speculative fiction” or “sf” or even “stf” for short, but I ain’t that guy…

I’m a sci-fi kinda guy.

I prefer sci-fi because to me it evokes the nerdy playfulness the genre should embrace at some level (and, no we’re not gonna debate geek vs nerd as a descriptor; “geeky” implies biting heads off chickens no matter how benign and respectable the root has become).

. . .

A brief history of sci-fi films -- a very brief history.

Georges Melies’ 1898 short A Trip to The Moon is one of the earliest examples of the genre, and it arrived full blown at the dawn of cinema via its literary predecessors in Verne and Wells.

There were a lot of bona fide sci-fi films before WWII -- the Danes made a surprisingly large number in the silent era, Fritz Lang gave us Metropolis and Frau Im Mond, we saw the goofiness of Just Imagine and the spectacle of Things To Come and the space opera appeal of Flash Gordon and Buck Rogers.

And that’s not counting hundreds of other productions -- comedies and contemporary thrillers and westerns -- where a super-science mcguffin played a key part.

That came to a screeching halt in WWII primarily due to budget considerations and real world science easily overtaking screen fantasy.  Still, there were a few bona fide sci-fi films and serials during the war and immediately thereafter, but it wasn’t until the flying saucer scare of the late forties that sci-fi became a popular movie genre again (and on TV as well).

Ground zero for 1950s sci-fi was George Pal’s Destination Moon, which was an attempt to show a plausible flight to the moon (it was actually beaten to the screens by a couple of other low budget movies that rushed into production to catch Pal’s PR wave for his film).

This led to the first 1950s sci-fi boom that lasted from 1949 to 1954, followed by a brief fallow period, then a larger but far less innovative second boom in the late 1950s to early 1960s.

BTW, let me heartily recommend the late Bill Warren’s magnificent overview of sci-fi films of that era, Keep Watching The Skies, a must have in any sci-fi film fan’s library.

Seriously, go get it.

Bill and I frequently discussed films of that and subsequent eras, and Bill agreed with my assessment of the difference between 1950s sci-fi and 1960s sci-fi:  1950s sci-fi most typically ends with the old order restored, while 1960s sci-fi typically ends with the realization things have changed irrevocably.

In other words, “What now, puny human?”

I judge the 1960s sci-fi boom to have started in 1963 (at least for the US and western Europe; behind the Iron Curtain they were already ahead of us) with the Outer Limits TV show, followed in 1964 by the films The Last Man On Earth (based on Richard Matheson’s I Am Legend), Robinson Crusoe On Mars, and The Time Travelers.

But what really triggered the 1960s sci-fi boom was Planet Of The Apes and 2001: A Space Odyssey.  The former was shopped around every major Hollywood studio starting in 1963 until it finally found a home at 20th Century Fox (whose market research indicated there was an audience for well-made serious sci-fi film and hence put Fantastic Voyage into production).  Kubrick, fresh off Lolita and Dr. Srangelove (another sci-fi film tho not presented as such), carried an enormous cache in Hollywood of that era, and if MGM was going to bankroll his big budget space movie, hey, maybe there was something to this genre after all.

From 1965 forward, the cinematic space race was on, with 1968 being a banner year for groundbreaking sci-fi movies:  2001: A Space Odyssey, Barbarella, Charly, Planet Of The Apes, The Power, Project X, and Wild In The Streets.  (Star Trek premiering on TV in 1967 didn’t hurt, either.)

And, yeah, there were a number of duds and more than a few old school throwbacks during this era, but the point is the most interesting films were the most innovative ones.

Here’s a partial list of the most innovative sci-fi films from 1969 to 1977, nine-year period with some of the most original ideas ever presented in sci-fi films.  Not all of these were box office successes, but damn, they got people’s attention in both the film making and sci-fi fandom communities.

=1969=

The Bed Sitting Room

Doppelganger (US title:  Journey To The Far Side Of The Sun)

The Gladiators

The Monitors 

Stereo 

=1970=

Beneath The Planet Of The Apes [a]

Colossus: The Forbin Project 

Crimes Of The Future 

Gas-s-s-s

The Mind Of Mr. Soames 

No Blade Of Grass 

=1971= 

The Andromeda Strain 

A Clockwork Orange 

Glen And Randa 

The Hellstrom Chronicle 

THX 1138 

=1972=

Silent Running 

Slaughterhouse Five 

Solaris [b] 

Z.P.G.

=1973=

Day Of The Dolphin

Fantastic Planet 

The Final Programme (US title: The Last Days Of Man On Earth)

Idaho Transfer 

=1974=

Dark Star 

Phase IV 

Space Is The Place 

Zardoz 

=1975= 

A Boy And His Dog 

Black Moon 

Death Race 2000

Rollerball

Shivers (a.k.a. They Came From Within and The Parasite Murders)  [c]

The Stepford Wives 

=1976= 

God Told Me To [a.k.a. Demon]

The Man Who Fell To Earth 

=1977=

Wizards

[a]  I include Beneath The Planet Of The Apes because it is the single most nihilistic major studio film released, a movie that posits Charlton Heston blowing up the entire planet is A Damn Good Idea; follow up films in the series took a far more conventional approach to the material.  While successful, neither the studio nor mainstream audiences knew what to make of this film, so 20th Century Fox re-released it in a double bill with another problematic production, Russ Meyer’s Beyond The Valley Of The Dolls, and holy cow, if ever there was a more bugfuck double feature from a major studio I challenge you to name it.

[b]  Other than Karel Zemen’s delightful animated films, Iron Curtain sci-fi films rarely screened in the US, with the exception of special effects stock shots strip mined to add production values to cheapjack American productions (looking at you, Roger Corman).  Solaris is the exception.

[c]  David Cronenberg made several other films in this time frame, but most of them were variations on the themes he used in Shivers, including his big break out, Scanners.  Realizing he was repeating himself, Cronenberg reevaluated his goals and started making films with greater variety of theme and subject matter.

. . .

The astute reader will notice I bring my list to an end in 1977, a mere nine-year span instead of a full decade.

That’s because 1977 also saw the release of Close Encounters Of The Third Kind and Star Wars.

The effect was immediate, with knock-off films being released the same year.

1978 saw Dawn Of The Dead, a sequel to 1968’s Night Of The Living Dead, and Superman, the first non-campy superhero movie aimed at non-juvenile audiences.  

1979 gave us Alien, Mad Max, and Star Trek: The Motion Picture.

These films were not just successful, they were blockbusters.

And none of them were original.

Close Encounters served as an excuse to do a Kubrick-style light show; plot and theme are about as deep as a Dixie cup, and of all the blockbusters of that era, it’s the one with no legs.

Alien’s pedigree can be traced back to It! Terror From Beyond Space (and It’s pedigree goes back to A.E. van Vogt’s “Black Destroyer” and “Discord In Scarlet” in the old Astounding Stories) and Demon Planet (US title: Planet Of The Vampires) by way of Dark Star (Dan O’Bannon writing the original screenplays for that film and Alien as well).

Mad Max, like 1981’s Escape From New York, differs from earlier post-apocalypse movies only insofar as their apocalypses of a social / cultural / political nature, not nuclear or biological weapons.  Mad Max, in fact, can trace its lineage back to No Blade Of Grass, which featured it own caravan of refugees attacked by modern day visigoths on motorcycles, and the original Death Race 2000, as well as an odd little Australian non-sci-fi film, The Cars That Ate Paris.

Not only was Dawn Of The Dead a sequel, but it kickstarted a worldwide tsunami of zombie movies that continues to this day (no surprise as zombie films are easy to produce compared to other films listed here, and while there are a few big budget examples of the genre, the typical zombie movie is just actors in ragged clothes and crappy make-up).

Superman was…well…Superman.  And Star Trek was Star Trek.

And the granddaddy of them all, Star Wars, was a cinematic throwback that threw so far back it made the old seem new again.

Not begrudging any of those films their success: They were well made and entertaining.

But while there had been plenty of sequels and remakes and plain ol’ knockoffs of successful sci-fi movies in the past, after these seven there was precious little room for anything really different or innovative.

1982’s E.T. was Spielberg’s unofficial follow-up to Close Encounters.

1984’s Terminator consciously harkened back to Harlan Elison’s Outer Limits episodes “Demon With A Glass Hand” and “Soldier” (not to mention 1966’s Cyborg 2087 which looks like a first draft of Cameron’s film)

All innovative movies are risky, and the mammoth success of the films cited above did little to encourage new ideas in sci-fi films but rather attempts to shoehorn material into one of several pre-existing genres.

Star Wars = space opera of the splashy Flash Gordon variety

Star Trek = crew on a mission (Star Trek: The Next Generation [+ 5 other series], Andromeda, Battlestar: Galactica [4 series], Buck Rogers In The 25th Century, Farscape, Firefly [+ movie], The Orville, Space Academy, Space Rangers, Space: Above And Beyond, plus more anime and syndicated shows than you can shake a stick at)

Superman = superheroes (nuff’ sed!)

Close Encounters / E.T. = cute aliens

Alien = not-so-cute aliens

Terminator = robots vs humans (and, yes, The Matrix movies fall into this category)

Escape From New York = urban post-apocalypse

Mad Max = vehicular post-apocalypse 

Dawn Of The Dead = zombies

Mix and match ‘em and you’ve got a nearly limitless number of variations you know are based on proven popular concepts, none of that risky original stuff.

Small wonder that despite the huge number of new sci-fi films and programs available, little of it is memorable.

. . .

It shouldn’t be like this.

With ultra-cheap film making tools (there are theatrically released films shot on iPhones so there’s literally no barrier to entry) and copious venues for ultra-low / no-budget film makers to show their work (YouTube, Vimeo, Amazon Prime, etc.), there’s no excuse for there not to be a near limitless number of innovative films in all genres.

But there isn’t.

I watch a lot of independent features and short films on various channels and streaming services.

They’re either direct knock-offs of current big budget blockbusters (because often the film makers are hoping to impress the big studios into giving them lots of money to make one of their movies), or worse still, deliberately “bad” imitations of 1950s B-movies (and I get why there’s an appeal to do a bad version of a B-movie; if you screw up you can always say you did it deliberately).

Look, I understand the appeal of fan fic, written or filmed.

And I get it that sometimes it’s easier to do a knock-off where the conventions of the genre help with the final execution.

But let’s not make deliberate crap, okay?

Oscar Wilde is quoted as saying “Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery” but he was quoting somebody else, and that wasn’t the whole original quote.

Wilde was quoting Charles Caleb Colton, a dissolute English clergyman with a passion for gambling and a talent for bon mots.

Colton’s full quote:   “Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery that mediocrity can pay to greatness.”

Don’t be mediocre.

Be great.

   © Buzz Dixon

[flying-elliska]

salut ellie! someone once asked you about your writing and you recommended falling in love with language and finding ways of writing you love. i was wondering, what books and/or writing styles are you in love with? it's just so interesting to know what somehow had an impact on the way you're writing bc i honestly adore your style

wow do you remember that ? that is such a flattering question oh my god. well, i’m still working on it. some of my favorites are (i’m very eclectic lmao) : 

- His Dark Materials (it’s a fantasy book series ‘for kids’ but it’s actually insanely deep and philosophic) is pretty much the first book series that made me fall in love with stories, and made me want to write. I think I found it when I was 10, and it completely shaped me. It’s so ambitious and clever, it never talks down to the reader, brings up those amazing worlds and philosophical concepts and is still accessible to kids. Most of all it is so committed to atmosphere, to making it vivid, to really make you go through what the characters are. I’m thinking of it and I can remember exactly certain passages in an almost sensory way : the witch Serafina Pekkala describing what it feels like to feel the Aurora Borealis on her bare skin as she is flying through the arctic. The polar bear Iorek giving Lyra frozen moss to help bandage his wounds after a battle. The grilled poppy heads that the Jordan College scholars at Oxford eat during a meeting. The little Gallivespians on their dragonflies and the way the sun reflects off their poisonous spurs. That’s how you make a story stick ; that’s how you can put in deep stuff without ever making it boring. I am so excited they’re making a tv series because that shit deserves some recognition. And I mean the whole plot about the importance of stories, free will, the horror of religious fundamentalism....always relevant. Philip Pullman’s stuff is great in general, I love his Sally Lockhart series, which is more adult and adventure focused, and is a great deal of fun. And of course, the sequel to HDM he’s been putting out recently. 

- I spent a lot of my teen years reading either crime novels or historical novels. (When I think of some of the stuff I read when I was 13 I’m like oh my god what were my parents doing lmao some of that was really horrible.) And I think it gave me a good feeling for suspense and setting, and how important tension is. One of my all time faves is Andrea Japp. She is a French writer who does mostly crime, involving complex/monstrous woman characters and a very sensory, poetic approach to language, often involving food, plants and poisons. My favorite by her is the “Season of the Beast”/Agnès de Souarcy chronicles, which is a crime series set in medieval times, with a cool independent lady at its core, crimes in a monastery, and this very gloomy end of times vibe that I love. I also read a lot of Scandi Noir stuff, I love the kind of ...laconic approach to life. And again : vibe. Vibe is so important. And Sherlock Holmes stories. I love the Mary Russell series that take place in that universe and are basically a big Mary Sue self insert guilty pleasure but are just. So much fun. 

- I like poetry a lot - not stuff that is too wordy, but something short, sharp and vivid. i think reading poetry is essential to feeding your inner ‘metaphor culture’. I love Mary Oliver. Rimbaud, too, that I read at 17 and rocked my world. One of my underrated faves is  Hồ Xuân Hương, a Vietnamese poet from the 18th century who was adept at using nature metaphors to hide both erotic stuff, irreverent jokes, and political criticism, and correspond with all the great scholars of her time under a pseudonym. Badass.  Recently I bought ‘Soft Science’ by Franny Choi, which is about cyborgs, having a female body, emotions and politics and it’s absolutely brilliant. 

- I love reading fairy tales, too. Currently reading (i always read a lot of books at once lol) Angela Carter’s Book of Fairy Tales, basically fairy tales for grown ups, collected from folklore all over the world, with an amazing kind of gruesome humor and wisdom. Norse mythology is also so damn funny. That one bit with Thor dressing up as a bride or Loki’s shenanigans...amazing. And I like fantasy, I find it very soothing to read for some reason, my fave has to be Robin Hobb and her Realm of the Elderlings series. And Terry Pratchett, especially the series with Death or the Witches. Just brilliant. Neil Gaiman too. 

- I tend to be very impatient when it comes to literary fiction, I find a lot of it is self-indulgent, dreary. I’m a genre reader through and through, I need to be amazed. I loved ‘the Elegance of the Hedgehog’ by Muriel Barbery though. Some stuff by Amélie Nothomb, Virginie Despentes occasionally (they’re French writers with a very dark, wry approach to life, tho the first is more polished acid and the second very punk rock). And ‘Special Topics in Calamity Physics’ by Marisha Pessl is pretentious as hell but a lot of fun, if you like dark academia. Salman Rushdie has a way with language that is amazing. 

- I read a lot of non-fiction. At the moment : the Cabaret of Plants (about the symbolic/socio historical meaning of plants and how they shaped history) by Richard Mabey and ‘Feminist Fight Club’ by Jessica Bennett. One I absolutely love is ‘the Botany of Desire’ by Michael Pollan in which he traces the history of four plant species (apple, potato, cannabis, tulip) and how they impacted us as much as we impacted them. I was obsessed with plants for most of my life as you can see lol (my mother is a herbalist and I wanted to become a botanist for quite a while.). Also philosophy/anthropology in little bits. I love Tim Ingold. Things about witches. Anything by Rebecca Solnit is incredible. 

- I’ve been reading a lot of YA recently, because it’s fun and quick and keeps me reading, and has a lot of good female characters. Big fave recently : Jane Unlimited by Kristin Cashore. It’s about a young bisexual woman who’s grieving and comes to this weird house full of doors, each of which leads to a different path in life, and we follow her through each choice she can potentially make, each of one becomes a different genre of story : creepy ghost story, spy story, sci-fi, cute romance, etc. It’s so innovative and it’s a story that is also bisexual culture at its core. Also I absolutely love love love love love (etc forever) the Raven Cycle series by Maggie Stiefvater. What she does with language is just so cool, because she stays simple and efficient but uses her metaphors in such a fulgurant, vivid way. Some of her lines are just. bam! genius. #goals. Also Ronan Lynch is probably THE character that helped me the most with my coming out. He’s one of my forever faves.  Of course Harry Potter, lmao, I was of the generation that pretty much grew up with him, the last book came out when I was 17. JK Rowling really should just stop rn. But I learned so much from those, about the importance of making your story feel like home, and having a clear emotional journey. And Harry is such a sarcastic little shit, I love him. And I love a Series of Unfortunate Events too, the darkly funny tone of it, the celebration of knowledge and resilience. 

- I think in terms of the classics (I had to read in school lmao), I do like Victor Hugo a lot even though some of his stuff just doesn’t fucking stop. I also like Balzac and his Comédie Humaine, he’s very observant, mean and funny when it comes to people (even though it’s depressing.) Colette is my grandma’s fave writer and she is a rockstar, I love her (also hella bi culture). Jane Austen is great, I read Pride and Prejudice in one night straight, I was so hooked. Love Jane Eyre too. I read On the Road by Jack Kerouac while hopped up on opioid pain killers and that’s probably the only way to appreciate it, but it did mark me.  

- But to be completely fucking candid, I probably read the most fanfic nowadays still. Esp since I got to college, I need to unwind when I read, and having characters you already know can be so comforting. Now, of course, there’s a lot of fanfic that is just fluff (nothing wrong with that) but I honestly really believe in the literary value of fanfic. Because some of that shit simply just really slaps and is well written. But also as a genre on its own : you just simply don’t get so much emotional nuance, and depth in most other things. Because these are characters we already know and the writers are not afraid to be self-indulgent and plot is secondary, we see shades of things that we never see anywhere else, we see relationships developping in the small things and wow that shit is breathtaking, bro, sometimes. The art of infinite variation on a theme. Even though a lot of fic writers could use a bit of stricter editing, and do stuff a bit too many unnecessary details in here, so does Victor Hugo soooooooo....

lol i could go on forever. i love book soooo much. uni kinda killed my reading appetite, I used to read several books a week when I was in middle school. hope i can get back there (although maybe not as much bc i have a life now lol.) but thinking about everything i have yet to read makes me sooooo happy. I want to get more into sci-fi, English lit classics. Basically I like stuff that’s witty, dark, political, hedonistic, with dry humor, but a warm heart. Stories that celebrate knowledge, curiosity and human weirdness. And that gets to the point. When I get bored by a book, I put it down, because I just don’t have the time. I also hate writers where you can tell that they think they’re better than other people. Misanthropy is boring. Thank you for this question anon I had a blast

[swanqueeneverafter]

What Dreams May Come, Pt.20

Hook’s Dreamscape. Storybrooke. The Jolly Roger. (While Hook examines Excalibur, Mr. Gold climbs aboard the ship.) Hook: (Sheathing the sword:) “I wasn't sure you'd show.” Mr. Gold: “And miss my chance to take your other hand?” Hook: “No, this won't do. This has to be a fair fight. I can't have your surviving family members blame this loss on your limp.” (Hook uses his Dark One powers to heal Mr. Gold’s leg.) Mr. Gold: (Tossing his cane away:) “It's been centuries since I stood here a mortal.” Hook: “Oh, you mean when I took Milah? I remember thinking that day, what type of sad little man is too afraid to fight for his own wife?” Mr. Gold: “Yeah, well, I'm not afraid anymore. I know I have to fight for the people I love.” Hook: “Don't you mean die for the people you love?” (Draws Excalibur.) Mr. Gold: “We shall see.” (Mr. Gold attacks first and the duel is on. They are pretty evenly matched until Hook side steps Mr. Gold and the older man falls down the steps. Advancing with powerful thrusts, Hook eventually brings Mr. Gold to a knee. Then, suddenly, Mr. Gold thrusts his sword into Hook’s stomach, impaling him.) Hook: “Oh! (Chuckles:) We can do this all day. But until you have Excalibur, it won't make a lick of difference. (Killian uses his hook to cut into Mr. Gold as he pushes him away:) They say the first cut is the deepest. Well, they lied. (Stands over Gold, pointing Excalibur at him:) Well, I have to hand it to you, Crocodile. You lasted a lot longer than I expected. If you'd fought me with such vigor back in the day, I might have given you your wife back.” Darkness: “What are you waiting for, pirate? Finish him.” (Mr. Gold uses Hook being distracted to let loose a sandbag, which hits Hook from above. Mr. Gold grabs Excalibur and stands over Killian.) Hook: “Well, get on with it, Crocodile.” Mr. Gold: “There's nothing I'd like better than to run you through. But I think... I think I'd rather let you live, knowing for the rest of your life that I bested you.” Hook: “Today.” (Hook disappears in a red puff of smoke, while Mr. Gold throws the sword to the ground.)

Storybrooke. Present. Morning. (Awakened by the sunlight pouring through the curtains, Emma groans and rolls over, reaching out a hand for Regina. Feeling only sheets, Emma lifts her head in time to see her wife returning to their room carrying a tray of food.) Regina: (Smiling:) "Breakfast in bed." Emma: "Hey, I should be doing that." Regina: "Well you can get it next time. Here." (Taking the tray, Emma places it at the foot of the bed before helping Regina lower herself back against the pillows.) Emma: (Bringing the tray laden with food back up:) "This looks delicious." Regina: (Smiles:) "Now that neither of us have anywhere to be, I thought I'd do something special." Emma: (Taking a bite of toast:) "Yeah, but now I feel like such a- Ooh, I know. Move over a little." (With some maneuvering, Regina finds herself sitting in the middle of the bed while Emma puts one of her pillows under her feet.) Regina: "Emma, what-" Emma: "Foot rub! The book mentioned something about them." Regina: (Chuckles:) "No, I mentioned it. Several times actually." Emma: "Yeah, well now I'm taking the hint. (Begins massaging the soles of Regina's feet:) Hows that?" Regina: "Wonderful. (Groans:) You know, foot rubs are good for anytime, not just during pregnancy." Emma: "Is that so?" Regina: (Enjoying the attention:) "Mmhmm." Emma: "Great, so you can do mine next." (They share a smile, Regina buttering her own slice of toast.) Regina: "Henry's not home. His bed wasn't slept in either. I'm not sure I like him spending so much time in the dream world. We don't know what he's doing in there." Emma: "I do." Regina: "You do?" Emma: (Casually rubbing her wife's feet:) "Yep. I knew you'd be curious sooner or later, so I asked him." Regina: "And?" Emma: "Well, he didn't tell me any specifics, but he's basically living out his fantasies. Sword fighting, danger, romance, adventure. Being the hero in his own story. Who knows, maybe he finally kissed the girl." Regina: (Sitting up:) "Girl? What girl?" Emma: "Um, well he didn't say anything, but I kinda got the impression there's a girl involved. Hey, relax, it's not like-" Regina: "Start from the beginning. Tell me everything, and keep rubbing." Henry's Dreamscape. Dungeons. The Next Morning. (Ella stands over a still slumbering Henry.) Ella: "Good morning, sunshine." Henry: (Turning towards her:) "Ow. (Holding his head:) Hi." Prisoners: (Also standing over him:) "How are you?" Henry: “Oh, God. Ow.” Ella: “Rough night?” Henry: (Sitting up:) “I don't remember what happened.” Jester: “You said her pretty brain exploded and went all over her face. And you tried to kiss her.” Henry: (Sighs:) “Well, that's the least of our problems. I think I might have ruined our only chance, and now I don't know what to do.”

Gareth: (Entering:) “Good thing I do. (To Richard:) Wake up, sire. We've come to get you out of here.” King Richard: (Rising from his bed:) “Oh, God. (Stands:) Well, I knew you cared.” Gareth: (To guard:) “Take him outside.” King Richard: “This place is horrible.” Ella: “All right, everyone, take only the bare essentials. We can always pick up odds and ends on the road.” Gareth: “None of you are coming, except you.” Henry: “What?” Gareth: “You're coming with me.” Henry: “I'm not going anywhere, not without everyone in here.” Gareth: (Grabbing his arm:) “You don't have a choice, son.” (Quickly, Henry kicks Gareth in the gut, then slams his head into the cell door, knocking him down.) Henry: (To Ella:) “Listen, I remember what I said last night, and I meant every word. I think you're the most wonderful... (Ella kisses him:) I think I'm falling in love.” (Suddenly, Gareth hits him from behind with a chair.) Gareth: (To Ella:) “Nice kiss. I hope he remembers it. Come on, you.” Ella: (As Gareth drags an unconscious Henry from the dungeons:) “Henry, no! Please, Gareth!” Hook's Dreamscape. (Hook stands alone at the edge of the water, staring out at the lake when the Darkness joins him.) Darkness: "So, after spending centuries quelling your bloodlust, you threw yourself right back into that darkness, quite literally, for your chance at revenge. How did it feel? Oh, that's right, you failed. (Giggles:) Even with the power of the Darkness you couldn't get the job done!" Hook: "Quiet!" Darkness: "Oh, no no no, dearie. Now is the time for you to be listening to me. Because you see, if you can't bring yourself to kill your enemy now, in a dream world, where none of it matters, then how can you possibly think you're incapable of change?" Hook: (Turning to him:) "What?" Darkness: "All of this is happening inside your head. You should be able to do whatever you desire. And yet, you couldn't kill your Crocodile. Could it be then, that what you crave more than retribution, is a chance to atone for your past?" Hook: "I can't bring my father back... or David's. Nor any of the countless men I killed on my quest for revenge." Darkness: "No, but there is someone in this world you can help. And, perhaps in doing so, it will allow you to embrace your own future, free from the shadows of your past."

Storybrooke. Present. Heritage Park. (Strolling through the park, Regina and Emma walk hand in hand towards a bench and take a seat. Watching as Regina kicks off her heels and sighs in relief, Emma chuckles.) Emma: "Don't you own any comfortable shoes?" Regina: "What, and have you tower over me more than you already do?" Emma: "It can't be good for you or the baby." Regina: (Curling her toes, wincing:) "It wasn't mentioned in the book." Emma: "Yeah, because the guy probably didn't think anyone was crazy enough to wear heels while pregnant." Regina: "Oh hush. There was no way I was going to visit the leaders of the united realms while wearing Uggs." Emma: "Who the hell cares what shoes you wear?" Regina: "I do." Emma: (Sighs, smiling:) "I don't get why you had to go see them anyway, Snow's in charge now." Regina: (Snorts:) "Emma, please. Letting your mother deal with the day to day running of Storybrooke is one thing, but sending her to speak to other realm leaders is entirely different. One morning spent with the council of Lost Boys and Snow would've signed away half the town to them." Emma: "Hey, mom can be tough when she needs to. She kicked your butt pretty good back in the Enchanted Forest." Regina: "She got lucky." Emma: "Uh huh." Regina: "The point is, now that we've spoken to most of the leaders, it's one less thing for your mother to worry about." Emma: "Sure, and that's why you did it. Nothing at all to do with you being a control freak." Regina: "Well exactly. Mostly." (They laugh.) Emma: "You know, I'm glad we get to take this time for ourselves. I mean, once the baby arrives, we're not gonna have a heck of a lot of down time." Regina: "True. Juggling Henry and work was no picnic, even though having the townspeople under a curse did help a little." Emma: "Yeah, well there'll be two of us to share the load this time. No need to curse anyone." Regina: "Just wait till the 2am feedings, you'll be cursing all right." Emma: (Laughs:) "I'm sure. Until then, I think we both need to learn to let go and relax a little." Regina: "Maybe. But for right now, I need to eat something, I'm starving." Emma: "Hm, me too." Regina: "Any suggestions?" Emma: "Actually, yeah. (With a wave of her hand, Emma transports them to a table outside the Rollin' Bayou food truck:) I thought we could learn from someone who leads her people, but still finds time to do what she enjoys most." Tiana: (Approaching with a tray of fresh beignets:) "Hey guys!" Emma: (As Tiana places the tray on their table:) "Thank you. Tiana, please tell Regina what it's like to rule Wonderland and still find time to follow your passion." Tiana: (Chuckles:) "Well it wasn't easy. Back when I was little, all I ever wanted to do was cook. I worked so hard to start my own business, then when my father died, my mother and I were threatened with losing everything, so my priorities changed." Emma: (Smiling as Regina starts on her second helping:) "So what changed for you?" Tiana: "Family. When Will and Alice came into my life, I realised that I could have it all. I could rule Wonderland alongside Will, who really knew the people, had a connection with them. And while Will was helping, along with my mother, in matters of state, Alice was helping me with my food dream too." Regina: "Point well made, Emma. (To Tiana:) I'm so glad your dream worked out for you, because these are delicious." Tiana: (Smiles, watching Regina pick up her third beignet:) "Thank you, Regina." Emma: (Smirking:) "Do you think I could get one of those?" Regina: (Through a mouthful:) "Only if you're quick." (As Emma quickly takes one from the tray, Tiana turns and heads back to her kitchen to make another batch.)

Henry's Dreamscape. (Henry is thrown down onto the beach.) Henry: "What's this? Where am I?" Gareth: "These pirates will take you and the king back to his kingdom, where he'll be safe.” King Richard: “What? No.” Henry: “I'm not leaving her. I'm going back.” Gareth: (Blocking his path:) “I've left word with my men. You step one foot in that castle and everyone you love gets the ax. No more games, Henry.” King Richard: “Listen, Gareth, I'm moved, but I've made my bed, and for once, I should lie in it.” Gareth: “You get in that boat.” King Richard: “Oh, Gareth. I know you're doing this because you love me.” Gareth: “I don't love you. I don't even like you. No one here likes you, so go.” King Richard: “Well, now you're just being mean to me so I'll go.” Gareth: “You're self-centered, self-absorbed, and you wear too much velvet.” King Richard: “Now you're just going into a lot of specific details, so I'll believe you.” Gareth: “You have a skinny left calf and a crooked...” King Richard: “Okay, okay, fine. I'll go. But you're not fooling anyone.” Gareth: (To Henry:) “Go on. And you.” Henry: “Not one hair.” Gareth: “I give you my word.” Henry: “And know this... I will return for them. Justice will be done.” Gareth: “I'm excited for you, but let me give you a couple of instructions. He can't sleep at night if he ain't got a second pillow to hug. Dairy makes him gassy. And if he gets cross, give him some salty snacks. It's good for his electrolytes. But if one hair on his head gets harmed, I will hunt you down, I will gut you, and I will use your skin as a lap blanket. Do you understand?” Henry: “We have a deal. (Gareth and Henry clasp each other’s forearms in a warrior’s handshake. He turns, walking towards the boat where Richard is already seated:) So who’s captaining this vessel anyway?” Hook: (Revealing himself for the first time:) “Why, that’d be me, lad.” Henry: (Shocked:) “Hook? How did you get here?” Hook: “There’ll be plenty of time for explanations later. (To the crew:) All right, shove off, me hearties.” Pirates: “Arrr!” Gareth: (Watching from shore as they sail away:) ♪ Good night, my friend ♪ Kingdom of Valencia. Throne Room. (Queen Madelena and Kingsley enter as several guards hurry back and forth.) Queen Madelena: “What in God's name is going on here?!” Guard: “Henry and King Richard have gone. We don't know where they are.” Kingsley: “Find them or I'll eat your firstborn for breakfast.” Queen Madelena: (As Gareth enters:) “He's behind this. I know it. Where have you been?” Gareth: “I'm sorry, milady, I must have slept in.” Queen Madelena: “Oh, really? Well, why don't you help yourself wake up by going down to the dungeon and killing everyone who's left?” Gareth: “Okay. It will be my pleasure.” Courtyard. (Gareth opens the doors, leading Ella and the other prisoners to safety.) Gareth: “Okay, here's the plan. One of you is gonna knock me out and take my keys.” Ella: “What? You're not going to kill us?” Gareth: “I keep my promises, and I promised your little lover boy that I'd take care of you. So who's first? Come on. (One by one, the remaining prisoners to knock out Gareth, without success. Sighs:) Just take the keys and go.”

Storybrooke. Present. (It’s early morning and Emma and Regina are driving in the rain to their next doctors appointment.) Emma: “Ugh. Why did we have to get an appointment so early?” Regina: “Because it won’t be as busy at the hospital and it’s our best chance that Whale won’t be drunk yet.” Emma: “We really need another doctor.” Regina: “Well maybe your mother can add that to her list of-” (Suddenly, Emma slams on the brakes to avoid hitting a knight on a horse at the intersection.) Emma: (Rolling down her window, shouting:) “I had right of way, jackoff!” Regina: “Maybe Grumpy had a point after all.” (Just then, she looks up sees a man standing at the corner of the street. Regina cannot believe her eyes.) Regina: “Daniel?” (She closes her eyes. When she opens them again, Daniel is gone.) Emma: “Are you all right?” Regina: “I-I’m fine. Let’s go.” Henry’s Dreamscape. Kingdom Of Valencia. Throne Room. (Gareth returns to the throne room, where Kingsley and Madelena await him.) Queen Madelena: “Gareth, did you kill everyone who needed to be killed?” Gareth: “No, milady.” Kingsley: “What kind of kingdom are you running here? (Stands and approaches Gareth:) A henchman that doesn't kill, a queen who does nothing about it. (Draws his sword:) This place has gone soft...” (These words turn out to be Kingsley’s last, as he is literally stabbed in the back by Madelena.) Queen Madelena: (Wiping her dagger clean:) “Turns out he wasn't my type. (Gareth takes the sword from Kingsley’s cold, dead hand:) You just got a promotion. (Indicating the throne next to her:) Sit.” Gareth: (Taking his seat:) “You're gonna have to either lose or gain a lot of weight.” (Madelena smiles and they both watch as Kingsley’s body is carried out of the room.)

[numbrellafive]

headcanons about eddie getting shitfaced at a party and richie taking care of him??? also maybe richie and eddie arent dating yet >:)

Wowie, 1k of us is quite a lot isn’t it, thank you so much for putting up with my bullshit content

This probably isn’t what you wanted and I’m sorry but I had a nice time writing these (sorry for any typos it’s been a long day)

- In this they aren’t dating yet but I guess it doesn’t really matter if they are or aren’t (the Headcanons work either way)

- okay so the first time Richie convinced Eddie to drink was meant to be ‘just an experiment’

- Richie just wanted to see how his beloved Eddie spaghetti would act drunk

- He expected him to just be hyper aware and cautious of everything, like an amplified version of his usual self

- boi was Richie in for a shock

- So the losers got invited to a college party (they cool in college)

- and of course Richie sees his chance to get Eddie drunk, he had it all planned out

- however by the time he gets there, Eddie is with a small group of people Richie doesn’t know and he’s already very intoxicated

- Eddie spots him at the door and instantly, points at him and yells ‘LOOK, THATS MY BOYFRIEND’

- Richie already knows he’s in for a hell of a night

- He’s also the loser’s dedicated driver for the night, he and Bill are the only ones with a car and Bill was on a mission to get drunk

- Eddie runs over to him, wrapping his arms around Richie’s neck and pulls him down to kiss his cheek

- Richie instinctively puts a hand on the small of Eddie’s back to balance him as he crashes into him

- 'Hey Eds, having fun?’

- Eddie just squishes his face against Richie’s and hums agreement

- They hang around and talk to everyone for a few hours but Richie honestly isn’t feeling it

- so he drags Eddie outside, past the patio and into the massive garden

- He finds a nice bench just past a few bushes and decides that’s where they’ll sit

- Eddie pretty much turns into an octopus at that point, one arm around Richie’s neck and the other around his waist whilst his face pressed against his neck

- Richie thought it was adorable

- From the distance, they can hear people back in the house laughing which for some reason makes Eddie burst out laughing too

- his head falling from Richie’s neck to rest in his lap, gazing up at Richie as his laugh calms to a giggle

- 'You’re something else, spaghetti man’

- 'Fuck did you just call me, bitch! Don’t use that language’

- This causes Eddie to start telling/yelling at Richie about everything

- Eddie takes Richie’s hand and starts playing with his fingers as his continues his barley understandable ranting

- Richie just watches and tries to listen to him with adoration

- eventually Eddie stops mid sentence and looks at Richie as if he’d grown another head

- WHAT THE FUCK RICHARD!’

- 'What’s wrong Eddie?!’

- Eddie takes a rough handful of Richie’s hair, bringing Richie down towards him and starts messing with the dark curls

- 'Where the heck did you learn to get hair like this’

- Richie’s decides to mess with him

- 'Eddie, you’ll never believe this but I grew it all by myself’

- 'Really?! That’s wild!’

- Eventually Eddie pulls Richie down even closer and wraps his arms around his neck whilst burying his face into Richie’s hair

- He knows sober Eddie would never do this in such a public place so he enjoys the moments as much as he can

- eventually he feels Eddie start to kiss his neck and just melts into the moment

- because honestly, this is Richie’s fantasies right here

- He’s just so relaxed and what Eddie is doing just feels so good

- Eddie pulls away with a cute smirk on his face

- 'Woopsie’

- 'Fucking vampire is what you are, Eds’

- They continue like that for a while, Richie ended up with his shirt being stretched down and marks covering his neck and collarbones

- however, all good things must come to an end and this beautiful moment ended with Eddie getting a headache

- 'Oh my fuck, I think my brain is gonna explode’

- So Richie decides to call it a night, he collects the losers one by one

- or in Stan and Bills case, two at a time, as they refused to let go of each other for even a second

- He makes sure they all get back home safely, Stan deciding to stay with Bill

- 'You can’t leave me billiam, not like this!!’

- Richie takes Eddie home with him, with Eddie still complaining about his headache and Richie knowing Mrs K won’t be happy about the current state of son

- so Richie wrestles Eddie into his bedroom , with Eddie clinging to him and his hair

- He’s surprised when Eddie actually changes into the sweats and tshirt he throws at him

- He tucks Eddie into his bed and hops in next to him

- He puts one hand in Eddie’s hair and the other around his waist as Eddie grabs his face and cuddles his head against his chest

- the next morning Eddie’s headache is so much worse and he just cuddles Richie closer in attempts to ease his pain

- This obviously wakes Richie up and he out of bed fetching painkillers before Eddie can even complain at the lack of warmth

- On his way back, Eddie notices the array of purple and blue marks on his neck

- Eddie is kinda angry because how dare Richie let someone else give him hickies whilst he’s drunk

- 'Who the FUCK gave you those?! I am ready to fight whoever it was’

- 'You’ll be fighting yourself then’

- Eddie just blushes and accepts the painkillers

- he doesn’t know if he’s happy or really upset that he doesn’t remember last night

Add more because I love this concept - xo

[genesisarclite]

Constants and Variables, Pt. 9

So, this chapter. Hoo boy. I’m sure you can guess what’s “wrong” with Morgan in this one. Also, I normally have fairly long timeskips between chapters (typically a week or so), but in this case, I’ll follow directly after this one.

Anyway. Sorry about the long wait on this. I’m hoping the content makes up for it, though. This was a very interesting one to write. Enjoy.

note: I switched away from numerals for the chapter numbers because it was going to get unwieldy the longer the story went on.

A week later, on a sleepy Friday afternoon, Aislinn approached Morgan’s office for the first time in several days. During the past week, she had only encountered him once, but her refusal to speak to him seemed to have made her point, as he said nothing more to her after that one attempt. He never questioned it or pressed her, either, simply giving her the wide berth she seemed to want and not looking at her.

Aislinn felt terrible for pushing him away, but it was the only thing that quieted her mind at all.

Halfway through the week, she dreamed of a black shape between the stars, staring at her and wanting to consume her and the entire station. Like before, she hadn’t been able to make it out, only aware that it was there. The dream had made her so uneasy that, upon awakening at one in the morning, she’d had to lay there for several hours, never going back to sleep, and getting up to go to work early anyway.

It was incredibly unsettling to have essentially the same dream twice, but not unusual. Recurrent nightmare themes weren't exactly abnormal for anyone.

It did, however, make her anxious to sleep the next night.

She entered the keycode, which had once again changed, and stepped through the door, balancing the box on her hip and looking around. For the moment, she seemed to be alone. Some of the décor in the office had changed – new paintings, a new arrangement of potted plants, and the picture having been moved over to the right, tucked in an alcove, where the things she noticed right away. The office’s window panel was closed, as well, blocking her view of the lobby, but the ambience here felt pleasant and sleepy – pools of honey-hued light on the carpet, glinting off the metal accents scattered throughout the room, the space between filled by even softer light that blurred the edges of the shadows.

It made it hard to tell where one began and another ended.

As if stepping too loudly would shatter something, she crept across the office and set the box down beside the mini-fridge, which had changed position and lay half-buried under pieces of scrap and Operator parts. She moved just enough of it to open the door and begin setting items inside, hesitating when she picked up a can of the caramel-flavored coffee. Part of her felt a strong desire – a need, even – to smash it through the window, but the urge subsided almost as soon as it arose, and she tucked it away with the others.

Halfway through, she heard voices outside the office and froze, tilting her head and squinting, trying to focus on them. They came closer, the door slid open with a snap, and then–

“–what Igwe wants. If he needs me back down there, he can come get me himself. I need to finish this.”

Aislinn felt the hair on her arms stand on end.

“Morgan, look, he’s very insistent, and I don’t want him– I don’t want him disturbing you.”

The footsteps – two pairs, she noted – stopped about halfway to Morgan’s desk. Fabric rustled; she craned her neck, but couldn’t see, her view blocked by the central divider with its junk-covered workbench. “If you do the job you were hired to do, Jason, instead of fretting, he won’t disturb me, will he?” Morgan’s voice could have been carved from Charon’s crust. “Now, sit down and focus on doing your work. I’ll call for you if I need anything.”

“But, I–” Jason stopped, then walked out after a brief pause.

She waited until she heard Morgan walk over to his desk, the creak of the chair coming to her, before she finished stocking and stood up with a sense of wariness, breaking the box down and moving enough to see him past the divider.

Morgan looked right back at her, expression completely unreadable.

A chill ran down her spine and sent her fingertips prickling – his eyes were so cold, colder even than when she’d first met him, and they seemed... feral, like a predator stalking its prey, studying her every move. His eyes didn’t move from where they had fixed on hers, lacking the natural twitchiness of normal human eyes.

“You must be the stocker,” he said. “What’s your name?”

She finished breaking the box down and folded it into a stack of small squares, the cardboard giving easily under her enhanced strength, saying, “Aislinn Kelly, sir.”

His unblinking stare unnerved her to no end. “There would have been a few cans in that order. Please pull one of them and set it on that stand.” He gestured to a small table beneath a simple picture of curved lines and circles, holding a small pot of yellow tulips that had begun to wilt.

Aislinn did as he requested and stepped back, bemused.

Morgan finally looked away from her, blinking for the first time, and raised a hand, extending it toward the can, though he did not move from the chair. Aislinn looked between him and the can, watching his expression grow taut, brow furrowing, fingers trembling faintly as he seemed to concentrate ever harder.

A year ago, she would have thought such a person to be attempting to emulate some sci-fi or fantasy character and trying to be funny about it... or being actually insane.

But it wasn’t a random person off the street, it was Morgan Yu, and considering everything he’d told her about the trials, she knew better than to question it.

Morgan hesitated and lowered his hand back to the desk, still frowning. He tilted his head, made a thoughtful sound, and closed his eyes, raising that hand again, fingers spread.

A soft scraping sound came from the table.

Aislinn’s eyebrows went up. The can had indeed moved a small but noticeable amount from its original position and turned slightly, the label now facing a little bit away from her.

Morgan made a thoughtful sound, opening his eyes and lowering that hand. “I’ll try again some other time. Aislinn, please bring that can here and set it on my desk.”

She did as he asked, trying not to stare, though at least now he wasn’t looking at her. Forcing herself to look away, she tucked the collapsed box under her arm and headed for the door.

“I know you, don’t I?”

She swallowed a reflexive curse – a particularly nasty one, at that – and stopped, looking over her shoulder at him. The last thing she wanted to do was give him the truth, but from the way he stared so steadily and seriously at her, deep eyes boring into her and making her very, very nervous, it wouldn’t be smart to lie.

“Yes, Mister Yu,” she said, “you know me, kinda.”

He tilted his head in a way that didn’t seem entirely human. “From before arriving here?”

“Ah... we didn’t know each other back on Earth, if you mean that.”

He still didn’t blink. “From a previous trial, then?”

“What trial, sir?”

The intensity in his eyes grew. “Don’t play dumb, Aislinn. If you’re my assigned stocker, then you’re either brand new, or you’ve been here a very long time. Based on your behavior toward me, I’m going with the latter. Now, answer my question, please – do I know you from a previous trial?”

She hesitated, then said, “Doesn’t matter,” and left as he opened his mouth again.

She continued her rounds, making the Psychotronics upper lobby her last stop for the day. Once more, the usual stocker was out, this time taking the day off entirely, and she dreaded the possibility of having to venture down into those forsaken metal guts again. Morgan’s meager demonstration of what seemed to be straight telekinesis was unnerving enough,

When she entered, Cory Richard stood half-bent over the terminal, tapping away at the keyboard, and barely gave her a glance. “Aislinn, good. Just set the box over there and I’ll take it down when I’m relieved. You won’t need to go down again this time. On your way out, hate to ask, but can you grab the trash out of the bin over there? We haven’t had a chance to empty it in a while, so it probably won’t smell great.”

She shrugged, set the box down, and moved to the bin. Sure enough, the smell seemed fit to knock out a vulture, though bearable if she took shallow breaths. Scattered around it were a few pieces of trash – some crumpled paper, a few peels, wrappers – which she threw into the bin before closing it up and lifting it out. The smell followed her all the way to the recycler, thankfully only a short distance down the hall, where she opened the recycler’s bin, shoved the bag in as best as she could, latched it shut, and pressed the “process” button.

The machine whirred to life, a light show beginning in the central processing chamber, as the bag of trash quickly turned into a swirling mass of colorful chunks. They clanked into the second bin as blocks and spheres; she pulled a trash bag from a nearby stash, yawned, and began plucking them out.

At the very bottom of the bin, she discovered a sphere of material that gave her pause – a little larger than her fist, smooth all around with an odd pattern of grid-like darker stripes, and the whole thing shone the color of an amethyst crystal, even glittering a tiny bit when she held it up to the light.

Never before had she seen a purple material come out of the recycler.

Aislinn settled back on her heels in a crouch, turning the sphere over in her hands, smoothing a fingertip over the surface. It felt a little rough under the pad of her finger.

Frowning, she considered everything she’d seen scattered around and in the trash bag. Nothing had been remotely out of the ordinary, and none of the instruction manuals for material extraction using recyclers had ever listed “purple stuff” among the variants. Not perceiving it as something immediately dangerous, she instead tucked it into a pocket, leaving it poking part of the way out and the actual fabric bulging like mad, but escaped without Richard even noticing.

If anyone could tell her what it was, Morgan could.

Though reluctant to return to his office, she headed for the stairs once more.

A week away from Morgan had indeed cleared her head to some extent. Now, though, she felt nervous at the thought of intentionally returning to his office just to see him again, even if it was purely business. Even now, though she tried to make the decision to keep her emotions under control – and to herself – she still wanted to be in his presence and hear his voice, giving in to a tiny fantasy that unfurled in her mind.

Fantasies, in and of themselves, were fine. Given attention, though, they could be dangerous.

But as long as she didn’t physically give in, it was fine, right?

Jason wasn’t at his terminal, allowing her to key in the code in peace and step into the still-shadowy office, stopping when she heard low voices over at the desk. Not knowing whether to back out of the room or remain, she spent a few moments twitching in place, scowling and trying to figure out what to do.

“Aislinn, one moment, please.” Morgan’s voice was only just loud enough to be heard – not difficult, considering how quiet the room had become.

She stopped twitching, flexed her hands at her sides, and squinted. Morgan, seated at his desk, had his hands folded atop it and his body partly turned to face someone beside him. In the darkness and faint halos caused by the lights, she couldn’t make out who it was at first, but after a moment–

“You’re not yourself,” she heard Alex say clearly then. “Something went wrong this time.”

“We’ve been over this, Alex.” Morgan sounded annoyed. “I feel more like myself than ever. What happened in the sim was just... call it a ‘quirk’ of this trial.”

Alex looked at her, then back at his brother. “You set several props on fire, Morgan.”

“That wasn’t my intention, and you know it. Besides, it won’t happen again. Now, please, someone else is here, and I would rather not go talking about–”

“If we don’t talk about it now–”

“Now is not a good time, Alex. You don’t seem to get that.”

Aislinn flinched at the sudden venom in the man’s voice. It struck with the force of a sledgehammer, shattering the careful quiet. Alex’s expression instantly went hard as stone, eyes ablaze. “Morgan, I know you’re irritable, but these tests... they changed you, significantly, this time. I’ll talk to the staff and see about giving you more time between trials to adjust. We won’t get useful data without–”

“Talk to me when a low-rank employee isn’t present.”

“If I let you slide now, we will never talk. You’ll do what you’ve been doing. Aislinn–” That voice of pure authority turned to her now, leaving her cold all over. “–please go back outside for a moment. I’ll call you in once we’re finished.”

She moved to do so, but Morgan said, “We don’t need to talk now, Alex.”

“Yes, we do. Aislinn, just for a moment.”

Ashamed of her sudden nervousness under Alex’s commanding voice, she did as he asked, letting the door snap shut behind her and sitting down on the floor between two tables. At first, she filled the time by fiddling with her transcribe, scrolling through snippets of news – the results of the latest rugby match, political happenings in Ireland that now felt too far away to affect her anymore, new entertainment just released or upcoming – until the sound of raised voices caught her attention, just as she heard soft footsteps from her right and looked to see Jason.

“Oh... Aislinn.” Jason blinked at her, his face creased with lines that shouldn’t be there. “I... heard Alex would be coming up to see Morgan today. That must be what I... hear in there.” He looked at the door.

Aislinn shivered as the voices grew louder. “Never knew those two could shout so much,” she murmured, standing.

“It’s not the first time they’ve gone at it, believe me you.” He rubbed his fingers through his hair, dark brown eyes thick with the unmistakable weight of sleep deprivation. “Morgan usually yells louder, and then he starts insulting his brother in Chinese, but it’s... it’s never funny. They’re just... too strung out.”

She folded her arms and moved away. “Everyone makes it like they have such perfect lives.”

“And you and I know better, don’t we?” Setting down a paper bag, he sat at his terminal and looked over the screen at her. “Well, maybe you don’t, but Morgan’s mentioned... offhand... how things are with their parents, and– and the board, and... well...” His gaze fell. “...if he didn’t tell you–”

Remembering the few minutes she’d spent in his suite, she said, “He told me enough, Jason, don’t worry.”

“He’d never want me,” he muttered, “but... he seems to like you. That’s good.” When he looked back at her, she opened her mouth, but he held up a hand. “It’s okay, really. Besides, I can’t be everywhere at once, and definitely not always when he would need someone like me. He barely spoke to me last time, and the way he’s been lately...” Jason frowned. “Aislinn, is... is something wrong... no. Something is wrong.”

“I– I don’t know...” She flexed her fingers, balled them into fists, relaxed them, and folded her arms across her chest. “Not sure if I can tell you. I mean, I think you... should know, but...”

Jason looked serious. “On my honor as a five-year TranStar employee, I’ll not breathe a word to anyone.”

“Al...” She swallowed and moved to his desk, half-bent over it. “Alright, then, listen. He’s testin’... neuromods, every week, sometimes two weeks, sometimes a little longer or shorter. Now, they’re special, okay? A totally new kind. That’s why they keep getting pulled out and put back in so much.”

For a few moments, Jason looked at her, then nodded, very slowly. “That makes perfect sense, actually,” he said then. He placed both hands, palms down, on the desk, fingers splayed, as though he didn’t know what to do with them otherwise. This close, she could see his suit was perfectly pressed, without a crease in it anywhere, and that he seemed to have lost quite a bit of weight since she had arrived. His black hair was clean and shiny, styled to fall over his temple at one side and form a fringe over his brow. In a way, he was cute – prim, proper, well-mannered, and fashionable, even in the uniform everyone wore. “Explains why he kept... forgetting his keycode. Why he’s got a different attitude every few days. So many things just... make sense now, you know?”

“You can’t tell anyone, Jason Chang,” she told him firmly. “You hear? Not sure if even you should know, and who knows what’d happen if word got out that I told you.”

“You have my word, Aislinn Kelly.” He laid a hand over his heart. “Hope to die.”

She nodded. “At least you know now. And don’t say things like that. It’d be a sad day indeed if you died.”

Now he smiled. “That’s very kind of you. Thanks.”

She managed a tiny smile in return at that. If nothing else, Jason’s sincerity lightened the mood. “Sounds like they’re not yelling anymore,” she said. “Wonder if that means they’re done fightin’ now.”

As if on cue, the office door opened. Alex came out, his expression a perfect mask of barely-contained fury, though he only glanced their way on his way past. Under one arm, he had tucked a folder, much like the one she had seen before, but thicker, bulging with papers and neon-bright tags. One slipped as he reached the corner; he stopped, stooped with visible effort, plucked the paper with a grunt, and continued on.

Aislinn and Jason exchanged a look. “That didn’t look good,” he muttered.

She swallowed and walked into the office, a hand feeling around the purple ball in her pocket. The lights were still dim, but Morgan stood in front of his desk now, hand on a hip and the other resting on the desk, balanced on his fingertips. When she approached, he looked up at her, mouth set in a grim line, the tautness of the skin along his jaw betraying how he really felt right then. He said nothing as she came closer, just gazing at her with the same, unnerving stare.

“Ah... sorry, Morg– Mister Yu.” She tugged on one glove with her fingertips. “Would it be better to come back later?”

“What’s my middle name, Aislinn?”

The question threw her completely off guard, and before she could think of a response, she knew her expression had already given away her first reaction, triggering a tightening of the skin around his eyes. “Ah... I... I... sir–”

“I have notes and transcribes covering multiple trials. I have noted several dozen people, most of whom have small entries, but a few have ones I’ve added to over time. Jason, Mikhaila Ilyushin, my brother... and you. I’ve added plenty of small addenda to your file in particular, varying radically in tone and content. Now, answer me, please.”

She chewed the inside of her lip a moment. “Sir–”

“According to your file, I asked you to call me ‘Morgan’.”

“Wh– what else was in–”

“Nothing that matters to you right now, Miss Kelly.”

Somehow regaining just enough composure, she squared her shoulders and said, “That... doesn’t matter right now, Morgan. I only came back to show you this. Figured you’d know what it is.”

When she produced the ball, Morgan’s expression immediately changed. He closed the gap between them and plucked it out of her hand, holding it close to his face. He turned it over, the surface shifting through a range of amethyst hues as the light scattered across the many tiny filaments that made it up. “Where did you find this?”

“Came out of the recycler.”

“Which one?”

“The one by the Psychotronics front desk. After I dumped that trash in it.”

“The trash for the front desk?” His eyes flicked to hers, intense, hard, nearly making her take a step back as she fought the instinct to look away. “And after that, this came out?”

“Y... yeah, it did.” Pause. “Morgan... what is it?”

He wrapped his fingers around it and lowered his hand. “Nothing you need to worry about,” he said through unsmiling lips. At least it had distracted him from his interrogation of her. “Excuse me. I will be keeping this for now.” And with that, he brushed past her and out the door, letting it snap shut behind him.

Aislinn blinked at the sudden emptiness, wringing her hands a few moments, before the realization of what just happened hit her and she breathed a sigh of relief.

Then, after running a hand over her face, she glanced at his terminal.

The memory of Matt and Mikhaila’s requests came back to her, nipping at the back of her mind, as she stared at the smooth metal plate that covered the rear of the screen. To say Morgan’s behavior was quite unlike him, radically different even from all the trials she’d personally witnessed, would be a massive understatement. His eyes were predatory, his movements alien, and his disconnect from normal human behavior made her nervous.

Only now, all alone, did it really hit her how... off his behavior had been.

And now she really wanted to know what was going on in Psychotronics. The trash, in theory, contained only what the front desk threw in... but what if something from that impenetrable vault of darkness had somehow made it up, maybe thrown in the bin by a thoughtless employee on their way back upstairs?

Slowly, she lifted one foot, then the other, placing them one at a time in front of her, crossing the gap to his desk with her right shoulder to the wall and eyes darting about. No cameras, no places where anything could hide and leap out at her if she stepped wrong – at least, none that she could see. The likelihood of him having left his terminal unlocked couldn’t be very far above “absolutely not at all”, but considering his heated argument with his brother and how quickly he had left the room after seeing the purple orb...

As she rounded the edge of the corner, she choked back a gasp, staring at the screen. The terminal was unlocked.

And she might have mere minutes before he returned.

She moved in front of it and studied the screen. He had been in the middle of writing an email, though it had no subject line or recipient yet, and was only halfway done, made up mostly of short sentences that made no sense to her. She minimized it and found six emails he hadn’t yet deleted. Four had subject lines indicating they were about business plans – one from Mikhaila, another from Chief Elazar, and two from Alex’s assistant, Oliver Benoit – but one had the subject line “Neuromod Material Plans” and the other “Sim Status”.

She clicked “Sim Status” first. A single, short paragraph greeted her, the email signed by a Dr. Bellamy. The sim lab layout has been changed per your request. Glass in testing zones can now withstand plasma blasts, and concussive impact rating has doubled. Shouldn’t crack like last time if you lose control of your powers.

She closed it and looked at the other. Her hands shook, giving her great trouble when she tried to tap a button on the screen – if she got caught, the sheer amount of trouble she could be in was unfathomable. They could throw her in the brig for days, or weeks, or months, or strip her neuromod and send her Earthside... or far, far worse.

The second email had been signed by Hans Kelstrup, signature indicating his position as the “Director of Psychotronics”.

She swallowed against a lump in her throat and opened the email.

Dr. Yu, we’ve exhausted over half our Volunteers, and the collection schedule indicates the next pickup is three weeks out. I’ve put in a request to get two dozen more and the pickup moved up a week, but I need you and Alex to sign off on it. After that, requisition gets more complicated. We can collect more employees to extract more Exotic Material in the meantime, but I need probably cause, or Elazar won’t stand for it. You know how she can be. If we run out of Volunteers before month’s end, we’ll be short on our Neuromod fabrication quota for the quarter. The Board is getting restless, and we have some very demanding clients Earthside. That bottom line is starting to look real thin.

Aislinn ran a hand over her face as she lowered it toward the desk. The email failed to state anything outright, relying instead on Morgan’s undoubtedly vast knowledge of that department’s inner workings, but the wording tied her insides into a knot. Why were the Volunteers “exhausted”? Why did Psychotronics need to get two dozen more? Why would they need to collect TranStar employees? Didn’t the Volunteers just get sent home after getting done?

She hesitated. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen anyone in a volunteer uniform be escorted to the shuttle bay for a trip home. She couldn’t remember ever seeing it.

The Volunteers were escorted in secrecy and moved quickly from the Volunteers Quarters to Psychotronics. If they tried to escape, they were taken down. Recalling the look of pure terror on the one man she had witnessed try to escape, the words and images formed puzzle pieces in her head.

Some of them clicked together. The image they painted was one that drained the color from her face.

Extract. Exhaust. Collection schedule. Short on neuromods.

Aislinn felt her body shivering as she closed the email and braced against the desk, closing her eyes, focusing on taking deep, careful breaths. The muscle in her arms shivered so hard, it felt as though it would leap off her bones, while her knees shook as though made of gelatin and threatened to drop her to the floor.

No, no, no, no, no. She was jumping to conclusions.

TranStar is not your friend.

With a small cry she wasn’t sure the source of, she closed the email and backed away until she suddenly hit the rear wall, startling her so badly that she jumped and gasped. She wrapped her still-shaking arms around her and closed her eyes once more, breathing deep. No, the Volunteers were probably fine. They were just... escorted out between shifts or something, led to the shuttle bay, and sent home with a new lease on life, their criminal records expunged in return for submitting to the company’s secret experiments with the neuromod technology.

Again, her hand ran over her face.

Each neuromod cost six million dollars to purchase. Last she had heard, TranStar was approaching the two thousand neuromod mark. Two thousand neuromods. Over twelve billion dollars in gross revenue as a result, and all it took was a state-of-the-art facility in Moon orbit and enough Volunteers to pump out the necessary materials. The company was so wealthy because of these facilities, with pockets so deep that it could do whatever it wanted in space, where there were no laws to stop them, and as a result, the entire Yu family – especially Alex and Morgan – were enormously wealthy, and they could do whatever they wanted with whomever they pleased beneath them.

What materials were needed? And why did they need more Volunteers?

Mind reeling, she bolted from the office, ignoring Jason calling out to her, hand on the side of her head as she tried to rein in her thoughts, but it was a vain effort.

In her mind, at best, the Volunteers just slaved away for hours, crafting the necessary materials, or feeding them endlessly into recyclers, then worked on printing neuromods for the millions of wealthy people on Earth who wanted to learn a new language, or some other new skill, or live longer, or run faster. They were then quietly escorted to the shuttle bay when no one could see them and sent back Earthside to live their lives.

At worst, she never saw the Volunteers, not even a glimpse, escorted to the shuttle bay, because they never actually left.

[forgetmenotblues]

52 in 52

So last year I tried to read 52 books in 52 weeks (aka a year, if you're nasty), and because I was a shiftless philosophy student, I managed and then some.

Here are the books I've read, with some thoughts on them, for posterity, or recommendations

1) Sandman Overture, Neil Gaiman

Pretty solid, usually I hate prequels, but sandman was always pretty meandering and non-linear, so it works well. Just annoying it doesn't fit in with my pretty leatherbound absolute editions

2) Radioactive: love and fallout, Lauren Redniss

Very cool artsy biography of Marie Curie, and glows in the dark!

3) XKCD What if?

Extremely fun science, makes some abstract concepts approachable, I mean it's Randall Munroe, it's solid

4) Rise to Rebellion, Jeff Shaara

Historical novel (gonna be a few of these, I'm dead into them) about the build up to the American revolution . Kinda dry for a lot of it, but can ratchet the tension up, taught me lots I didn't know, and there's a bit towards the end where John Adams' wife calls him out on his privilege and it's pretty rad

5) Dune, Frank Herbert

I hate myself for saying this, but I was expecting it to be a bit more... dry. But seriously, everything described it as complex philosophy and politics, ASOIAF in space, and then it was a pretty straightforward adventure. The dynastic politics boiled down to a family of cool beautiful good guys vs an evil family of "hilariously" fat perverts. It was a great read, but more Laurence of Arabia than anything else

6) Squirrel girl, Ryan North 

Fantastic, fun, brilliantly written - it's Ryan North, nuff said.

7) Virgil, Steve Orlando

A cool, dark, "queersploitation" comic. Your basic "beaten and left for dead, wreaks vengeance" type story, brutal, but honestly pretty cathartic

8) the house that groaned, karrie fransman

A comic about a bunch of dysfunctional people. I didn't care for it, it was a lot of kinda shallow Freudian psychology and slightly tim burton esque "quirky" characters. It was kinda like the A Dolls House arc of Sandman, but... not good

9) The Last Continent, Terry Pratchett

Discworld is always fantastic, and I've got a real fondness for the classic travelogue style rincewind ones.

10) Night Thoughts of a Classical Physicist, Russel McCormmach

The story of a German physicist who's dedicated his whole life to ether model physics and is realising his life's work is being disproved by recent advances... so a barrel of laughs. All about mortality, the fear of obsolescence, nationalism, and academia.

11) The Property, Rutu Modan

Indie comic about a girl learning about her family's heritage in Europe, lots of post war stuff and exploring "the old country". Very good

12) The Wake, Paul Kingsnorth

This was one of the real wins of this year, a story about the Norman occupation of Anglo Saxon England after 1066, and resistance thereof. Written in a conlang made to simulate old english, it seems totally unreadable, but you pick it up, and it makes the story infinitely more engrossing. A cool setting plus a whole other language wouldbe enough, but kingsnorth goes one further and makes it a savage deconstruction of nationalism and a beautifully painful exploration of tropes these sorts of books tend to embrace. Can't recommend enough.

13) Adventures of Hergé, Jean-luc Fromental

Biography of hergé written in the style of a tintin comic, a lot of fun

14) Carpé Jugulum, Terry Pratchett

Another Discworld, another classic. A lot of fun stuff with vampire tropes, although also a pretty serious discussion of "all evil comes from utilitarianism", which I felt didn't entirely fit, and I disagreed with. But again, the biggest criticism I've ever had of a Pratchett book is "his intelligent discussion of philosophy felt a little out of place", so not the end of the world

15) Fifth Elephant, Terry Pratchett

I went on a bit of a discworld binge here, another great one

16) Half a King, Joe Abercrombie

Great deconstructive low fantasy  novel, one of the many ASOIAF-esque books out there, and one of the few I've really enjoyed

17) Batman and Robin Eternal, D.C. Comics

Fun story about the batfamily, one of the rare bat-titles to really say "hey maybe this should be fun, you guys?"

18) Magical Game Time, Zac Gorman

Brilliant comics about video games, capture the real magic and freedom you found in games when you're a kid, the epic narratives you'd weave out of very simple Zelda games on the NES. makes me happy on a fundamental level. A lot of its available as webcomics, look it up, you won't regret it

19) The Truth, Terry Pratchett

Another brilliant Discworld book. Not much to say as there's a lot of these another all just consistently amongst the best books ever.

20) Wonder Woman Earth 1, Grant Morrison

Grant Morrison's always got a gift for finding the heart of a character, and he doesn't disappoint here. A lot of weird analysis of wonder woman as a feminist character, but he handles it pretty well overall.

21) & 22) Half the World, and Half a War, Joe Abercrombie

Parts 2 and 3 of the series, stays brilliant. Abercrombie is apparently best known for more adult stuff and this is more YA, but if anything that refines his writing - stops him being another grimdark game of thrones wannabe, and keeps it slightly more reconstructive and intelligent. Brilliant use of characters, the hero of the first book ends up almost the villain of the last, and all for entirely understandable reasons.

23) Machine of Death, various authors

A short story collection about a high concept: a simple blood test can tell you your cause of Death, but not the time or any specifics. A brilliant idea is explored in a lot of clever, beautiful, and hilarious ways.

24) The Last Hero, Terry Pratchett

Another brilliant Discworld, acting as a bridge between the classic fantasy of the older books, and the renaissance era politics and science of the later books - v poignant

25, 26, & 27) Harlequin, Vagabond, Heretic, Bernard Cornwell

Historical novels about the battle of creçy and the start of the 100 years war. Cornwells always good, although honestly these aren't his best. Pretty cool comparison between the chivalry of grain quests, and the reality of medieval warfare.

28) Long Halloween, Jeph Loeb

A classic batman, the story they based Dark Knight on, with a cool transition from down to earth organised crime of Year One to the zany madness of later batman

29) Little Brother, Cory Doctorow

A novel about post-911 culture, and counter culture rebellions against it. Fantastic novel, available as creative commons, so you can get it for free, so no excuses not to read! Very inspiring in that fuck Bush and fuck this war aesthetic, and Ihve a feeling it's gonna get real relevant in the coming years

30) Enders Game, Orson Scott Card

Pretty fantastic sci fi, analyses the psychological impacts of chosen one children saving the world, and the ethics of a "all the enemy are evil aliens" narrative. Obviously all this ethicality is a bit hypocritical from Orson Scott homophobia, so buy it second hand?

31) Black Guard, AJ Smith

Pretty cool fantasy, another faux ASOIAF type one, fairly straightforward, but plenty enjoyable

32) Deadpool vs Hawkeye

Pretty fun comic, read it on a plane back from Costa Rica, so I dont super remember it? But I enjoyed  

33) The Sleeper and the Spindle, Neil Gaiman

Very cool twisted fairy tale type thing, Neil Gaiman's always good, and beautiful Chris Riddel illustrations on top

34) Dial H for Hero, China Miéville

Great comic series, takes a simple idea (guy finds magic phone, when he dials it, he becomes a randomised superhero) and explores it in every possible way, becoming a full blown epic. Plus a scene where he becomes old timey racist heroes from the 60's and has to balance the good of doing superheroics vs the offensiveness of going out as "super chief" or whoever

35) Ravenspur, Conn Iggulden

Historical novel about the war of the roses. Iggulden is always very good, makes extremely readable stuff, and his war of the roses series is fantastic, a complex story made into an awesome action story. However, this last book isn't his best, it spends about 2/3rds of the book on a 6 month period where not much happens, then blazes through 10 years of action in no time at all, the pacing just felt a bit off. Still very good.

36) Howard the Duck, Chip Zdarsky

Very readable, very fun, very witty

37) Stonehenge, Bernard Cornwell

Historical novel about the building of Stonehenge, this is cornwell at his best, at border of very well researched intelligent history and the slightest hint of fantasy, making a brilliant story that brings history to life.

38) Black Orchid, Neil Gaiman

Slightly deconstructive superhero story, reads very much like a companion piece to Alan Moore's brilliant Swamp Thing

39) The Hartlepool Monkey, Wilfrid Lupano

Historical comic about a northern English town that hanged a shipwrecked monkey as a Napoleonic spy. A brutal read, exploring idiotic nationalism, well recommended

40) Turned Out Nice Again, Richard Mabry

Cute non-fiction musings on the meanings of weather and it's effects on our day to day life

41) The Heroes, Joe Abercrombie

Another deconstructive low fantasy, this time part of his adult series, which actually kind of works against it. Without the lighter edge, it can be a little bit of a downer. Nonetheless, well written, solid characterisation, and an excellent take-down of fantasy's belief in the glorious nature of war.

42) Thief of Time, Terry Pratchett

Another fantastic Discworld, fun, funny, and clever

43, 44, 45, 46, 47) A Game of Thrones, A Clash of Kings, A Storm of Swords, A Feast for Crows, A Dance with Dragons

Reread all of ASOIAF, absolutely fantastic, better on a second read. The first 3 are great as last time, plus all the foreshadowing that now makes sense. And 4&5, which I felt bit more ambivalent about the first time round, I've since read various analyses of (check out @asoiafuniversity), and I'd now consider them some of the best books I've ever read.

48) Gettysburg Address, Jonathon Hennessey

Absolutely brilliant comic, dissecting the Gettysburg address, using each line of it as a jumping off point to explore the history and philosophy of the civil war, incredibly high recommendation

49) Lazarus, Greg Rucka

A fantastic sci fi comic series, brilliant writing and characters, rucka is always great, and this is some of his best

50) Night Watch, Terry Pratchett

Another Discworld, but this one is even better than usual, this is one of the ones that stand out as serious business, much less comedic and much more epic than usual

51) A Brief History of Vice, Robert Evans

Hilarious and informative book from a cracked.com writer about use of drugs and alcohol through history, with recipes and recommendations for legal highs and drink recipes

52) Just City, Jo Walton

Sci fi / fantasy /philosophical novel, where great thinkers from throughout history are brought together to build Plato's perfect city. All about the clash between high ideals and practical reality. Very enjoyable, the sort of book where action scenes are philosophical debates.

53) Goldie Vance, Hope Larson

Fun cool progressive detective comic

54) Temeraire, Naomi Novak

A really fun fantasy novel with a concept that seems so simple, you don't know how no one's done it before. Essentially it's just the classical trope of dragon riders, but updated from pseudo medieval to the Napoleonic era, with all  associated tall ships and iron men and officer and a gentleman tropes