#migrations novel

[goodluckclove]

RANDOM EXCERPT TIME

the cool thing about migration patterns is that ollie exists now, a character who's magic comes from her arfid. so i actually have an entirely new way to conceptualize food and nutrition.

as someone who struggles with disordered eating i really related to writing this sequence between her and tenzin (thanks to @godsmostfuckedupgoblin for inspiring me to set it in my real-life favorite park in portland). i'd love to see if anyone else in a similar place finds some joy in this!

it's not sad by the way it's very cute. i like ollie a lot.

By the time they finished the bag of peas was half defrosted. Ollie tore open the top and was tossing loose handfuls ahead of them, which quickly summoned more ducks than Tenzin was able to fully process.

“Touching peas like that doesn’t bother you?” Tenzin asked, watching form her corner of the bench.

“Hm? Ah. No, why?”

“You used to freak out about eating anything that popped in your mouth. That was probably one of your biggest icks.”

Ollie grinned and shook her head. “No, no. Eggs are my biggest ick. Uh, yeah – I’m not about to eat any of this trash. But it’s better for the birds than bread or crackers. And you gotta be nice to birds,” she leaned down slowly until she was far enough for a larger beige duck to snap some green bulbs from the palm of her outstretched hand. “I am growing, though, Like, as a person. Had a big win the other day.”

“Yeah?”

“Ate an olive.”

She wiped some moisture off her palms, slapping them together in a grandly dramatic fashion before leaning back against the bench and idly rubbing along the edge of her bad knee. Ollie cast Tenzin a look of bemused pride, the type of pride that was an actual sense of accomplishment masked as humor in order to deflect potential mockery.

Tenzin put the groceries back in the bag and set it on the concrete at their feet, where it was quickly inspected by their horde of hungry ducks. She turned on the bench, crossing one leg on the seat of it. “Like, a whole olive?”

“Straight out of the jar,” Ollie smirked.

“On purpose? I mean, did you know –?”

Ollie waggled her brow. “Oh, I knew. Knew the whole time.”

“Holy shit.”

That got a pleased laugh out of Ollie. She made a dismissive, joking gesture, but as the amusement faded Tenzin saw a slight flush simmering along her cheeks and the bridge of her nose.

“An olive,” it’s funny how one small act could take precedence over years of unspoken resentment. “That would’ve killed you when we were kids,” Tenzin leaned forward and lowered her voice. “How’d it happen? What’d you think afterwards?”

At first Ollie said nothing. She broadened her grin slightly, though tinging it with a hint of suspicion. Or maybe embarrassment? It was hard to tell. Finally she broke from her line of sight and snickered sheepishly at their audience of wandering ducks.

“I was in the Mess Hall,” she began. “Renja left a bottle on the counter. I saw it, and – I don’t know – something broke inside of me. I was just like fuck it and I ate one. It really isn’t –”

“Did you like it?” Tenzin cut in.

Ollie looked at her. She scoffed again. “Not really. The texture was fine, and I liked how salty it was, but it kind of tasted like blood.”

Tenzin stared at her friend. Her curls were well maintained. There were strands of silver that now stood out among the occasional ringlet of chestnut brown. She had smile lines starting to form in the corners of her mouth. Because she smiled a lot. Ollie always smiled a lot.

“You ate an olive,” Tenzin whispered in astonishment.

Ollie looked like she was going to laugh, but didn’t. She locked eyes again with Tenzin, searching her face, seeing something in Tenzin the same way she saw something in Ollie. When she smiled again it was surprisingly gentle.

“I ate an olive,” Ollie murmured proudly.

[jesncin]

With my book coming out this year I decided to set up a linktr.ee for your convenience! Once pre-order links for Lunar Boy are provided to me, I'll be sure to update accordingly. There's a couple of links you can already visit though, including Lunar Boy's Goodreads page! Add my book if you have an account, and don't worry! I won't be looking at reviews there. Adding my book just helps get it noticed more, and reminds folks that it's coming!

[daeley]

...

🤒

[kahluah]

What I hate about all this is I can't even find the content I want to see here anymore. I hate blocking people that aren't spam bots, but these Twitter stans have tried my patience. Like I'm cool with whatever interpretation, but when I come to a tag that is supposed to be curated with specific takes, that's what I want and expect to see. Not all this tsundere best grape jiujiu meow meow stuff. That's what the general tag is for.

Just because the word canon is in the tag name it doesn't make the take more valid lmao. It's a search category with a passive aggressive name because the people that made it were harassed out of the general tag. They deserved the snark for essentially being kicked out of the character tag. Plus it made it easier to search out novel specific posts, so to me it was a win/win

And I just shake my head at these people trying to "reclaim" the tag and telling the fans that made it to go make a new tag again. Hey Twitter stans, why don't you make your own tag called "actual canon Jiang Cheng" or whatever if it means that much to you. The tag name doesn't automatically make you any more correct or incorrect. Right now all you're doing is ruining people's ability to curate their content.

And really you make yourselves look like idiotic assholes who lack critical thinking skills and try to cover up that fact by harassing the people that inform you of the above, and enticing a mob mentally to try to get your way. (Which given the content of the source material...)

[theoldandnewfirm]

I always say that I don't watch TV anymore because I don't have the energy to select a show at the end of the day, but I think a large part of that is influenced by the knowledge that anything I get invested in will inevitably be canceled.

[jennamacaroni]

We had no money, but we went often to the library.  According to Mam, inside the pages of a novel lived the only beauty offered up by the world.  Mam would set the table with a plate, cup, and book.  We'd read through meals, while she bathed me, while we lay shivering in our beds, listening to the scream of wind through the cracked windows.  We'd read while we balanced on the low rock walls that Seamus Heaney made famous in his poetry.  A way to leave without really leaving.

Charlotte McConaghy, “Migrations”

[greenlaut]

kind moon, gentle sun ☾☀

[deathhuntersrequiemvn]

I never know what to say for a first post, so I’m just going to say hi! I’m Ashi and I’m the main developer, script writer, and artist of the Visual Novel “Death Hunter’s Requiem”! I mostly run an art blog (and mini FGO blog currently on hiatus) here but in the chance that Twitter ends up imploding I wanted an area that I add all my updates to! I’ll be slowly pushing them out day by day until I get back to minimal updates due to working on the coding.

If you wanna check out my main blog then go see @menacingheatashi !

The Prologue Chapter + Chapter 1 demo is officially out so if you want a preview of the game as a whole then go check out my itch.io page ‘DeathhunterAshi’ !

If you want to see some (very old) old lore pertaining to the main character Jounoichi ‘Joey’ Nakahara then you can check out @requiemsfighter !

Thanks for sticking by with me through this crazy mess and hopefully during Thanksgiving Break a much better looking desktop page will be waiting for everyone!

[oysterie]

the mona lisa burning in glass onion [handshake] the car crash scene in migrations as scenes that you see coming you know theyre coming they need to happen for the story to exist and you hold your breath and watch/read them like a train wreck mwah

[bubbles-the-banshee]

[goodluckclove]

Edgar Gallow's 31st Birthday Party (Migration Excerpt)

For those who feel like joining the sad guy and their friends in some of the most family-centered fluff I've written in like a billion years holy shit this is wholesome.

There was a faded, blue and yellow checkered tablecloth draped over the kitchen table. Scott spent the better part of an hour diligently gathering the best wildflowers and mustard sprigs from the field behind the house, all of which were now bundled in the family’s one crystal vase.

In a better world there would be streamers or balloons. Something to hang from the walls and ceiling. When Edgar called Regina to let them know that they’d be coming back with Katy soon, Scott stood at the entrance to the room and nursed a general sense of dissatisfaction.

“It looks very nice,” his mother said, stirring the simmering pot at the stove as Edgar directed before leaving.

Scott huffed. “It’s not enough.”

“I feel like any more might overwhelm the poor thing.”

Yes. Scott wanted to overwhelm them. Just tuck them into a snug cocoon of love and keep them there until all the self-loathing and confusion has been thoroughly digested. He caught his mother’s eye and, perhaps reading that intent in the sadness of his expression, she let out a small laugh.

“It’s very nice, Skylark,” she said again.

“Oh god.”

Edgar stood at the center of the kitchen with their eyes wide. There was a dreamy look in their face, complete with a grin that was buffering between wide and even wider.

Still near the stove with Regina, Scott made a noise that expressed how he was about to denigrate the work he put into the day. Before he could get a word out, his mother gently jabbed him in the side with the wooden handle of the ladle.

“Ow,” he muttered. “Fuck, Mom.”

He watched Edgar drift towards the table and reach a hesitant hand to the tablecloth. They touched the lace edge and exhaled softly.

“You even got the – wow,” they breathed. “I don’t think we should use this. I don’t want it to get ruined.”

Regina chuckled. ���It’s survived plenty of dinners with Skylark. I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

Scott started to protest until he felt the sheer warmth radiating from Edgar across the room. Another standing-by-the-heating-vents moment. He looked at his lover and saw them watching him fondly, their eyes beginning to glass up.

Something in him relaxed. He didn’t realize how tense he’d been up until now. “Happy birthday, Edgar,” Scott smiled.

Edgar let out a single disbelieving, but very happy laugh.

Katy wasn’t surprised by the state of Scott’s family home. She wasn’t surprised that his mother, who looked like a taller and fatter version of him, greeted her with immediate warmth and was eager to welcome her into the home. The only thing that surprised her when Edgar took her back to the beach house was the way Tenzin reacted when they saw each other again.

Once again, Katy was aware of how awful she looked and felt. Tenzin’s mouth twitched slightly like she had something to say. Like she had a few things she wanted to say. Katy’s nerves heightened as she reacquainted herself with how hard her new phone companion was to read in person, until she remembered when Tenzin confessed her own personal difficulties in reading emotions.

“I’m...I’m really tired,” Katy said. “But I’m happy to see you.”

Tenzin’s brow raised when she said that. Her lips quirked up in a smile that stuttered before she managed to calm herself.

“I’m happy to see you too,” Tenzin responded. “I can show you were the bathroom is if you want to wash up.”

Katy sighed. “I’d like that a lot.”

While showering in the house’s comically over-sized bathroom, she thought about Jeff and Fern. They were settled into a temporary housing situation closer into town, where Jeff told Katy he’d be driving back to Lincoln in the morning. They spoke for a while, keeping their voices down even though Fern had their implant off in the adjacent bedroom.

“You’re going to see that friend of yours?” Jeff asked, making himself comfortable on the couch. “The one you talk to every day?”

“Yeah,” Katy was a little absent on the armchair across from him. “She’s just a friend, I think.”

“Just..? Katy, a friend could be a lot of things.”

“I know, but –”

“A friend could be someone you spend the rest of your life with. If you actually like them, a friend can be the most important thing in the world.”

He spoke with a particular passion. It sounded like he’d been wanting to say this for a while. Katy thought about sand in a bottle on the Boardwalk and suddenly felt a little itchy and sad and excited and confused.

Jeff turned towards her on the couch. “I’d like to meet her before I leave tomorrow,” he said. “If you’re comfortable with that. I hear you talk, it seems like you really like her.”

While Katy thought nothing about Edgar meeting her brother, didn’t even find it significant until she saw the two of them chatting at the Mess Hall after her impromptu tattoo session, this was different. Thinking about Jeff introducing himself to Tenzin gave Katy a deep swell of feeling she was unable to place.

She looked down at the bandaging around her forearm that covered the small new tattoo. It stung, but was mostly numb. Feeling and not feeling. There was maybe a parallel there.

Tenzin spent too long at her closet trying to pick something clean for Katy to wear once she got out of the shower. Despite living in a family of people shorter than her, and despite spending her life in a town where she was one of the tallest biological women, she didn’t spent too much time obsessing over her height. But when trying to think of some clothes to lend to someone half a foot shorter than her, Tenzin suddenly felt like some sort of massive, gangling kaiju.

So she figured, after Scott made a habit in their adolescence of borrowing from her closet, she could finally return the favor. She crept into his room and grabbed one of his two pairs of jeans and an undershirt. By the time she left with her bounty Katy had just stepped out of the bathroom, and the two met in the hall in awkward silence.

Katy looked better. Still drained, a little heavy in the eyes – but certainly fresher. She held the towel around herself and took in the sight of Tenzin openly stealing clothes from her brother’s bedroom.

It looked weird. Tenzin knew it looked weird. “What size jeans are you?” She said to Katy.

“Uh –” she looked down at the bundle of jeans and raised a single brow. “Men’s or women’s?

“Men’s.”

“Thirty-six.”

Tenzin checked the label on the inside of Scott’s jeans. “Hah,” she scoffed. “Look at that. Perfect match,” she pushed the clothes towards Katy. “Here.”

Katy snickered low. She adjusted her grip on the towel and brushed a few strands of wet hair out of her face. “Is Scott going to care that you’re lending me his clothes?”

“He won’t miss them. Scott’s not really a...pants kind of person.”

“Well,” Katy took the clothes with her free hand and flashed Tenzin a wry smirk. “If these are real Levi’s then that’s his loss.”

After Katy changed the two of them laid across Tenzin’s bed, staring up at the ceiling. Their silence was hard to parse. Things felt so much stranger than it did over the phone. Tenzin could see the curve of Katy’s nose and the soft flush of her pale cheeks that lingered from the hot water. She was reminded of how glamorously beautiful she was, and forced to confront that the feeling she had when Katy called her attractive wasn’t really there anymore.

She thought about how she knew a bit about Katy’s childhood, and how Katy knew about hers. Tenzin was apparently the only person in the world aside from Katy’s youngest brother to be privy to her deathly fear of horseshoe crabs. In turn, Katy was the only person to know that Tenzin still kind of had a crush on the shape shifting, cat-like yokai from My Neighbor Totoro.

There was certainly a relationship here. It was hard to understand it more than that, though.

“Can we keep lying here for a while?”

Katy’s voice was distant when she said that. Her eyes were already drifting shut. Tenzin didn’t answer, and once it occurred to her to say something Katy was already starting to snore.

Tenzin watched her sleep. Was that weird? It was hard to tell. She felt better seeing her there, though. Knowing she was clean and resting and, for the moment, safe.

Thinking that made her body start to feel heavy. She heard the croaking rattle of the heat vents above her bedroom door turn on, and something about the sound was so kind to her that Tenzin closed her eyes and allowed herself to relax.

Edgar thought they’d be better at this.

They knew that an actual birthday party after decades of ignoring the date would be a shock to the system, but they hoped they’d eventually acclimate to the situation. This simply wasn’t the case. An hour into watching the table be set and the food be served, tasked with nothing but sitting at the head of the table, Edgar had no idea what to do with themselves.

It was easy to smile. They couldn’t stop smiling. This felt like something out of a dream and they stayed very still just in case moving too much would cause them to wake up.

Scott ended up sitting beside them, and he softly laid his hand on top of Edgar’s on the table.

“It smells amazing,” he said, motioning his head towards the serving bowl of chili that steamed in the center of the table.

Edgar stared at Scott. How long was it supposed to be between blinks? Their eyes were starting to sting. They still couldn’t stop smiling.

“It’s smelled great all day,” Scott smiled playfully. “I tried to sneak a taste but Mom wouldn’t let me.”

Scott must’ve been working so hard while they were gone. Diligent Scott, determined to exorcise today into being something worth celebrating again. Beautiful Scott, with a few curved strands of black escaping his bun.

Skylark, Skylark, Skylark.

A note of concern made the shapes on Scott’s face look all the more profound. “Hey,” he cooed, touching Edgar’s cheek and the underside of their chin. “I hate to be the one to say this, but – did you take your Petrichor today?”

“I’m gonna’ marry you,” Edgar said in voice clear as day.

Scott’s eyes went wide. Regina, who was laying out a basket of freshly-cut bread, paused midway into the gesture. She noticed he and Edgar both staring now and blinked a few times, nonplussed.

“If you’re looking for surprise you’ve come to the wrong place,” she let the jesting comment settle, and then warmed. “Congrats, kids. Na zisete.”

She went back to the kitchen to pull out the bottle of cider that was chilling in the fridge. Edgar leaned forward, elbows propped up on the table and chin supported on his fists. Their heart was a sparkling, swirling pool of about a dozen different perfumes and body washes, a veritable emotional bubble bath with the consistency of expensive syrup. It coated their skin with the smallest touch, and as the rest of the world moved along they were sinking blissfully into its depths.

They felt Scott graze his fingernails up and down their back and sighed in utter peace. They gazed at him, eyes partially lidded, and snickered as he started to squirm shyly.

“Wow,” Scott breathed.

Edgar laughed again. “I feel your feelings,” they reminded him. “You should be used to this by now.”

Scott shook his head. “No no. No, this – this is all you, I think.”

If Edgar manipulated the emotions reflecting in them, it did feel differently than Scott’s emotions did. More fluid. Different hues. It was hard to explain. It was also hard to think that Edgar would be capable to creating anything as beautiful as what they were currently experiencing.

They closed their eyes and grinned with a scoff.

The table was just big enough to fit the five of them. Scott and Edgar, Katy and Tenzin, and Regina between the two couples. The conversation was quick-fire, boisterous and frequently overlapping. They spoke of traveling, hot dogs, children’s books, music choices and bad motels. Regina mostly listened. She made a comment or two every so often, but for the most part she was happy just hearing the others talk.

The chili was intricately spiced in a way that echoed in the mouth long after every bite. The chew of the diced cauliflower was so close to ground beef that she barely registered it wasn’t actually meat. She dressed her bowl as Edgar suggested, and the hefty serving of shredded cheese turned the entire bowl into something with the consistency of paste. Regina questioned the choice at first, though once she took a bite she noted the dense creaminess, the smooth texture made complex with onion and bell pepper. It was like fondue she was meant to eat on its own.

Edgar’s capabilities with something so simple were deeply impressive. She’d actually forgotten how useful it was to have a variety of fresh produce in her own backyard. And Scott was charming in a new kind of way – with an effortless quality that she could see not leaving him exhausted. He spoke to their new friend Katy so eagerly. Clearly he thought of her as a friend, and by the way Katy joked with him so easily Regina hoped she thought of him the same way.

Katy was a clever one. She reminded Regina of Goose in a way that made her miss having Goose in the house too. The bandage on her arm proved that she was willing to get a permanent sigil (Because Edgar can do sigils! How smart of them!) just to stay under her roof. Regina regretted that being the lengths it took, but the fact that Katy would go so far for a chance to spend quality time with her children earned her respect in an instant.

Once they finished their meal, Scott and Regina quickly cleared the table. While her son loaded the dishwasher she lingered close by, momentarily hesitant.

“You sure you don’t have a problem with it?” She whispered to him.

Scott paused. “With what?”

“Edgar’s present.”

“Oh,” Scott closed the dishwasher with his foot and leaned against it. “Of course not.”

“Tradition calls for it to go to you. Or – or to Tenzin, maybe.”

“Yeah, but – we don’t wear jewelry. I hate the feeling of it, and Tenzin likes her style simple. You know that.”

Regina still wasn’t certain. She had her hand in the pocket of her slacks and anxiously palmed the small box inside. Scott took her by the shoulders, forcing her steady in one bold movement.

“You’ll keep it in the family,” he said. “That’s what you want, right?”

Her son was an adult now. He looked so much like her, and even more like Levi. The gleam in his eyes and the promise of mischief at the edge of his smile. He used to be the littlest of babies. He used to wriggle around the mustard fields well into adolescence.

Past him, Edgar was listening intently at Katy while she told a story about some chaos she passed on the road. They were so considerate and polite. So aware of other people and how they fit into any given room at any given time. She remembered the weekend she cared for them as a child where they finally worked up the courage to learn against her. Even then, they kept asking if what they were doing was okay.

“Edgar?” She called out. “I have something for you, if you don’t mind.”

Edgar laid in bed that night, still buzzing so madly that they might’ve been floating a few centimeters off the mattress. They tried to stay quiet. They tried to stay still, so as to not bother Scott. But they couldn’t keep from touching Regina’s gift as it hung in place just above their collarbone.

It was a necklace on a long leather cord. In the center there was a pendent, a carnation lovingly etched from wood and then painted orange. Edgar felt its shape in the dark with their finger and tracked every breath as it cycled through their chest.

Regina explained that birthright jewelry used to be more commonplace, a way for witches to signify their presence to each other in civilization. The orange carnation was the marking of birthright magic back then. Nowadays it was less important to be discreet, but the pieces that remain are still passed down in certain families in the remaining witch towns.

Scott assured Edgar that he used to wear the necklace and hated the way it felt on his neck. Tenzin agreed that the pendent was slightly too large, and the color slightly off for her skin tone. So Edgar had it. Now it was Edgar’s.

He tied it around Edgar’s neck in the privacy of his bedroom. Edgar looked at themselves for a long time in the full-length mirror and marveled. Just marveled. They never considered any sort of adornment for themselves, but the small splash of color made them feel remarkably stylish. That was a new feeling for them. The person in the mirror with the fuzzy green sweater and the rustic orange flower necklace, their red curls vibrantly fluffy, was an appealing stranger Edgar would love to get to know more.

“Are you ready for tomorrow?” Scott asked them as they laid in bed together.

Edgar grinned, weary and ecstatic. “I wasn’t even ready for today.”

Scott took their hands and pressed them to his chest. He held them there for some time, eyes closed, saying nothing. It looked like he might’ve fallen asleep like that, but then he spoke again.

“I’m with you,” Scott said.

It was an odd feeling. It was so strange to look at a part of yourself that has been wrapped up after an injury for years and years and suddenly rip off all the bandages, only to realize that what used to be a gaping wound was almost fully healed over. There was still a scar. There would probably always be a scar.

But one more scar wasn’t enough to break Edgar Gallows. Not anymore.

-

songbird tag, let me know if you want on or off

@inadequetecowboy

@kuebiko-writing

@cartoonghosts

@atlasthecactus

@aroaceghosties

@booksntea6982

@xarrixii

@mushroommanchanterelle

[devoutjunk]

"Like humans, forests have always migrated for their survival, with new trees growing in more hospitable directions and older trees dying where they are no longer best suited to live. The problem now is that they simply can’t move fast enough. The average forest migrates at a rate of roughly 1,640 feet each year, but to outrun climate change, it must move approximately 9,800 to 16,000 feet—up to 10 times as fast. And in most habitats, the impact of highways, suburban sprawl, and megafarms prevents forests from expanding much at all. Forests simply cannot escape climate change by themselves.

[...]

During the talks he [St. Clair] gives about his research, he likes to show an image from Lewis Carroll’s Through the Looking-Glass, in which the Red Queen charges forward with her crown and sturdy scepter, pulling frenzied Alice along in her wake. He had the slide printed out and handed it to me as we walked. “Now, here, you see,” the Red Queen says to Alice, “it takes all the running you can do, to keep in the same place.”

“So that’s what we gotta do,” he told me, pointing to the Red Queen. “We gotta run.”"

"Can We Move Our Forests in Time to Save Them?," Lauren Markham, Mother Jones

[cj-marj]

Being on here for only 5 minutes has reminded me that I have a number of joongdok fics waiting for me.

[jesslovesboats]

Hello friends, I am back with more reading recommendations for your agonies! Next up we have the long awaited and much requested Sad Boat Fiction list. As with all of my lists, this is NOT exhaustive and there WILL be great books left off, and also you may or may not like these books! I only rec things that I've personally enjoyed or that come highly recommended by trusted friends, but taste in books is incredibly subjective, especially with fiction. If I missed your favorite, please add it in the comments or drop it in my DMs!

Now that I'm feeling more settled in my new job, I will hopefully have a lot more time to make book lists and do more virtual Readers' Advisory. I have lists in the works for women in polar exploration and companion reads for the HBO War series, but if there's something else you would love to see, please send me a message!

Classics of the Genre

At the Mountains of Madness by H.P. Lovecraft

The Terror by Dan Simmons

Moby Dick by Herman Melville

Dark Matter by Michelle Paver

Media Tie-Ins

Who Goes There? (Filmed as The Thing) by John W. Campbell, Jr.

The North Water by Ian McGuire

Cold Skin by Alfred Sánchez Piñol

The Terror by Dan Simmons

Graphic Novels

Whiteout by Greg Rucka

How to Survive in the North by Luke Healy

The Worst Journey in the World- The Graphic Novel Volume 1: Making Our Easting Down adapted by Sarah Airriess from the book by Apsley Cherry-Garrard*

*this is only fiction in the broadest possible sense of the term, but there is a shiny new American version of this book coming out with a gorgeous new cover and you should pre-order it immediately

Science Fiction

The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. LeGuin

Antarctica by Kim Stanley Robinson

Romance

Under a Pole Star by Stef Penney

The Ministry of Time by Kaliane Bradley

My Last Continent by Midge Raymond

Inspired by the Terra Nova Expedition

The Worst Journey in the World- The Graphic Novel Volume 1: Making Our Easting Down adapted by Sarah Airriess from the book by Apsley Cherry-Garrard*

The Birthday Boys by Beryl Bainbridge

Terra Nova: A Play by Ted Tally

Antarctic Navigation by Elizabeth Arthur

*this is only fiction in the broadest possible sense of the term, but there is a shiny new American version of this book coming out with a gorgeous new cover and you should pre-order it immediately

Inspired by the Franklin Expedition

The Rifles by William T. Vollmann

Minds of Winter by Ed O'Loughlin

Solomon Gursky Was Here by Mordecai Richler

On the Proper Use of Stars by Dominique Fortier

Literary Fiction

The Voyage of the Narwhal by Andrea Barrett

Migrations by Charlotte McConaghy

We, The Drowned by Carsten Jensen

Inspired by the Classics

The Route of Ice and Salt by José Luis Zárate

Ahab's Wife by Sena Jeter Naslund

Modern Day Antarctica

How the Penguins Saved Veronica by Hazel Prior

South Pole Station by Ashley Shelby

Where'd You Go, Bernadette by Maria Semple

Polar and Nautical Horror

Where the Dead Wait by Ally Wilkes

Dark Matter by Michelle Paver

Cold Earth by Sarah Moss

The Deep by Nick Cutter

All the White Spaces by Ally Wilkes

Dark Water by Elizabeth Lowry

The Deep by Alma Katsu

Happy reading!

[kykyonthemoon]

How to romance the lovely Miss Hunter

By finding out the tropes you like to read in romance novels, he might know just how you would like this love to be.

ಇ. Character x Reader/MC

Included parts in order: Rafayel, Xavier, Zayne, Caleb

ಇ. Tags: soft, sweet, fluff, cheesy (it's a warning), teasing, established relationship (except for Caleb's part), roleplaying (with Rafayel), jealousy (Xavier being jealous with his other identity - Lumiere), mentioned of all the romance tropes I like to write about, childhood friends to lovers, adopted brother and sister, princess and her merman slave, damsel in distress.

ಇ. Word count: 4k3

ಇ. Requested by Krys.

ಇ. Masterlist

ಇ. Request

𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍 

"What have you done just now?! "That was my first kiss."

The princess exclaimed. She then covered her lips with her fingers and concealed her face behind the veil that had just been removed.

The attractive mermaid, with his bare chest revealed beneath the water, smiled, half cold, half alluring. He migrated close to to the Princess and declared:

“Now you are mine.”

The book in Rafayel’s hand rolled from the sofa to the floor, and he began laughing uncontrollably, crawling even. You seized the book in anger, folded it flat, and requested:

“Please stop.”

Rafayel covered his lips with a palm and smiled. His eyes shone with tears, his cheeks went scarlet, and his stomach ached from laughing so hard. He leaned absolutely back on the sofa and gazed at you.

"Your Highness, you do have a hobby of reading such cheesy love stories."

Rafayel replicated the dialogue from the book, making you even more enraged. You shot him a stare.

"Hmm." You gripped the book hard in your hands. Ever since he caught you reading this romantic novel inspired by the legend of Lemuria, Rafayel had been teasing you by reenacting passages from the written scenes, but in a sardonic style that left you flush with embarrassment.

"Your Highness, where are you heading to?" Rafayel grabbed your wrist as you turned to go. "Do not forget that now, you are mine."

Rafayel restrained another chuckle. You violently yanked free from his grip. 

“I'm… sorry…” Rafayel cleared his throat. He eventually came to the decision to stop this childish game. 

"With the exception of a few references to Lemurian mythology, the rest are too… much. The author has let her imagination wander too far.” 

"You are insulting other people's interests!" You frowned and responded. "I enjoy reading passionate love stories like this. Is there a problem with it?”

Rafayel stared at you with an expression of pain. You were the one who got furious, so why did he appear to be more upset?

“If you wish to learn about Lemuria, wouldn't it be better to just ask me directly? You don't need to read stories like that.”

The book in your hand was titled The Lemurian Kiss. The plot focused on a handsome mermaid and the princess he was forced to obey. Tara first exposed you to it, which piqued your interest. Then you were absorbed in the love and resentment, as if it was your own narrative from another life.

Rafayel hated it. Yet you did not understand, if he disliked it so much, why did he even bother to read it more attentively than yourself? Even when he tormented you with passages from the narrative that made you blush, you had to concede that he had read and comprehended it better than you could.

Perhaps it was due to his Lemurian ancestry. Perhaps he had heard a similar story elsewhere in his long life. You had no idea how long he had lived, and you understood very little about Lemurians. Indeed, when you bought this book, you anticipated it to disclose more about his kind than he was eager to share.

Suddenly, you came up with an idea. You gave up attempting to get out of Rafayel's grip. To his astonishment, you crouched down closer to him, giving him no opportunity to sit up. A hand rested on Rafayel's chest, gently forcing him down into the sofa.

"So? Will you tell your beloved princess all the secrets of Lemuria then?"

You altered your voice to seem icy and pompous, like the princess in the tale. Your gaze fixed on Rafayel's, making it impossible for him to ignore you. He was completely taken aback by your abrupt shift in attitude.

“You… What are you doing?”

“Is that how you speak to a princess?”

You appeared unsatisfied, and before Rafayel attempted to get up, you opted to sit on top of him.

“Ouch! That's painful!" He shouted. “You're so heavy! Get off!”

"How insolent of you!" You grabbed Rafayel's chin so he could obediently stay down in place. "I'll have your scales peeled off for daring to insult my weight like this."

He snorted coldly while he was still pinned down on the sofa. "That's it! You're bullying me!"

"Isn't this your favorite scene from the story? When the merman attempted to flee, the princess sat on him. I'm merely offering help since I see you immersing yourself so much in the role from the story there.”

Rafayel's sullen attitude brought you a delicious triumph. He turned his face away, as if he was upset at being bullied. He stated:

“It's best that you don't read these kinds of stories anymore!”

Pleased, you softly patted his cheeks as he puffed them up like a toddler. You stood up, satisfied, and said:

“I'm going to let it slide. Next time, don't tease me like that anymore."

But Rafayel showed obvious disappointment. He grasped your wrist.

“Is that all?”

"Huh?" 

“Are you really going to leave?” He grumbled. “You are not dedicated to the role you play after all.”

Rafayel sat up immediately, then he pulled you down on the sofa and in a blink of an eye, you were in his arms. “Once you start a role, you have to be committed to it.”

Rafayel's long fingers slid down the bridge of your nose, then paused at your lips. You held your breath, looking at him, waiting.

“Her Highness loses interest too quickly.” 

You grinned, recalling the personal passages between the two main protagonists in the novel. Sometimes you put yourself and Rafayel in it. How astonishing that this was truly happening.

“Entertain me then. Would you?”

Your clear voice rang out. Your fingertips had rendered Rafayel's face red, and you could hear his heart pounding furiously in your ear. 

“I can grant all your wishes.” Rafayel held your hand and placed it on his chest, then began to kiss you. First your hair, then your forehead, a lingering kiss on the tip of your nose, and finally he stopped for a moment at your lips. “I can even make you forget all the cheesy things a human wrote about Lemurians in that book.”

Rafayel's fingers gently parted your lips a little. Yet still left you hanging. 

“After all, Her Highness needs not a work of fiction, when she already has a true Lemurian, in the flesh, right here.”

At that moment, the merman offered the princess a long-awaited kiss, as if reconnecting an incomplete romance from the past life.

𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓 

Those days, Xavier noticed how you often had your nose buried in a book. It was nothing like daily life science research, nor was it like the ones you would usually read. It was brand new, with a silver mask on the cover.

He also realized another thing, that you always laughed to yourself while reading it. Occasionally, you would give him a covert glance, then go back to bury yourself in the pages of the book and smile. Other times, you would hold the entire open book in your hands and roll around on the bed with immense excitement, which he could not comprehend.

Then, one day, he picked it up, that thick large book. What caught his eye was the title of the story: Moonlight Lover. He rolled his eyes. 

Xavier's slightly trembling fingers opened the book in a slow motion. The page you were reading was marked with a lovely tiny star-shaped bookmark. He failed to take his eyes off the words presented under the light.

“My beautiful lady, fear not! I have come for you. I will protect you with my life.”

“Oh, my Lumiere…”

A very complicated expression appeared on Xavier's face. He read on, and the next paragraphs perplexed him. 

In the midst of fierce battle, Lumiere gave his lover a passionate kiss. Time stopped, the moonlight shone on two hearts in perfect harmony. Right at the climax, you walked in. With a haste you snatched the book from his hands.

“This… is mine!” 

You hid it behind your back. Your face turned red as if you had just done something so embarrassing.

"You… Why have you read my book?"

"You…" Xavier was ready to say something, but hesitated. His look remained stunned, as if he had just witnessed something so horrific that he could not speak. Yet that may be true.

"Tara let me borrow this book!" You spoke fast, not daring to look him in the eyes. "She said this… this is the best-selling romance novel in Linkon…"

"I see." Xavier responded. "Do you like reading romantic stories?"

"S-Sometimes…" You murmured. With the book in your hand, you swiftly turned to the bookshelf and placed it there. As you turned around, you nearly ran into Xavier. When did he come to stand right behind you? "Oops!"

"S-Sometimes…" You murmured. With the book in your hand, you swiftly turned to the bookshelf and placed it there. As you turned around, you nearly ran into Xavier. When did he arrive to stand directly behind you? "Oops!"

You exclaimed with surprise. You promptly drew away. Your back was ready to collide with the bookshelf, but Xavier's extensive hand saved you.

His face was so close. Somehow, you imagined that behind a silver mask, he would look just like Lumiere, which was bizarre.

"Xavier…" You quietly uttered his name, indicating that you were safe and that he could let you free. Yet Xavier held you even tighter.

“Do you like Lumiere that much?” He questioned abruptly, his expression not even trying to cover his evident sulking. 

“Lumiere… It's merely fiction…” You defended. 

“What do you like about him? His flashy appearance? Or his way of flirting with the female lead?”

Xavier's face stiffened. You caught his eyes gradually darken.

“In stories like this,” you clarified. “The male lead often appears just as the main protagonist is in peril to defend her. I simply appreciate their love..."

You could feel Xavier's heavy breathing on your cheek. His hand, which was previously on your back, then moved down to your hip, pushing you towards him so that your bodies were pressed against each other.

“I do the same too, don't I?” Xavier's voice was calm and soft, yet contained so much bitterness. “I will always defend you. I'm always there when you need me."

“Yes… That is true…” You replied, casting a quick glance at him. He rested his chin on your head and wrapped his arms around you in secure, as if afraid Lumiere would appear and take you away at any moment.

“So, me and Lumiere, who do you like more?”

Xavier's question left you hanging in confusion. Before you could respond, he added:

“Lumiere cannot hold you like this. He cannot be there whenever you call. He cannot hang out with you. Cannot be close to you… like this…”

A kiss from Xavier landed on your bare shoulder. You felt dizzy after being embraced with such force. You gasped:

“Erm… Lumiere is a… a legend… Even if he's real… he's probably a lot older than me…”

Xavier sighed deeply once more. He leaned in toward you and pushed you closer to the bookshelf. 

“Then tell me. Do you like me more, or him?"

Just when you thought everything was settled, Xavier continued to ask that question. You knew all too well that you could not get out of this situation if you refused to give him the answer he needed. Yet the look on his face made you want to taunt him even more.

“Well, let's see. Lumiere has a luxury attire, exceptional abilities, and—”

Without waiting for you to finish the sentence, Xavier's lips locked your mouth. His kisses were always as gentle as his demeanor, but this was more intense than ever. You were held in his arms, lips devoured by him to the point that every breath slowly left you, your body and heart trembling as you were forced to surrender to him in such a manner. 

When Xavier let you go, your mind already went blank. Who was Lumiere again? You no longer remembered. You could not recall.

Xavier gazed down at you, his lips parted slightly into a smile. He removed the book off the shelf and placed it back in your hands. 

“Return it to Tara once you're done reading.”

He turned away. At that moment, you concluded that you could read every love story ever written in this world, but the one true male protagonist in your life could only be Xavier.

𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆

There was a book café established on the same street as Akso Hospital recently. And so you have found another place to go while waiting for a certain doctor to finish his shift.

Originally, you intended to pass the time by sipping a drink and munching some sweets. Yet you had no idea that you would also be drawn into the pages of books there, especially a very thrilling love story about a man. The doctor who led two divergent lifestyles.

He was a doctor at an esteemed hospital, also a cold-blooded killer who must conceal his identity from the person he loved. Right from the very first lines, you were drawn into the story that was both tragic and sensational. Especially when the main character resembled a doctor whom you admired. You were so absorbed in reading that you failed to notice the time. You went around the café, holding the book in your hands, and read without paying attention to the world. As a consequence, you ran into someone.

“Zayne?” You cried out in surprise. He stared at you first, then at the book on the floor. He leaned down to pick it up.

“The secrets of Doctor Li?” Zayne read the title aloud. In a haste you used your hands to protect the book from his inquisitive gaze. When he returned it, you clutched it securely against your chest and purposefully turned the cover toward you.

“Well… This is…” You searched for an explanation. “My reference book…”

"Is that so?" Zayne's eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Another one of your reference books?”

You were perplexed while recalling that you had lately left another book in Zayne's office. Of course, you claimed that it helped you understand more about the medical field, and he had pointed out some of its factual misunderstandings. This time, just by looking at the cover, Zayne understood precisely what type of books you were reading, and they had nothing to do with medicine.

“I thought medical books were supposed to be displayed on the other side of the coffee shop, right?” Zayne replied nonchalantly.

“Ah… It was a bit crowded over there, so I moved to this area…”

Zayne turned around to look at the other side of the café. There was not a single person seen. On the contrary, the place you had chosen had more readers.

Realizing what a mistake you had made, you quickly pulled Zayne's hand out of there. “Let's go, Doctor Zayne! I've been waiting for you and now I'm hungry!”

A few days later, you caught Zayne intently reading something at his desk. Moving closer, you recognized the very familiar cover of the book almost immediately.

“The secrets of Doctor Li?! So you're reading it?"

Being caught in the act by you, since you had decided to come to the hospital on your lunch break that day without a notice, Zayne could only chuckle. He covered half of his face with the book, leaving only his eyes visible behind the pair of glasses. You knew he was adjusting the muscles around his face.

“Yes. Hello."

"You. Are. Reading. This. Too!" You uttered every single word as if this was a big deal. 

Zayne calmly lowered the book, closed then placed it neatly on the table. He replied:

“I also want to refer to some things from there.”

You appeared perplexed. “Didn't you say that this book is wrong in even basic healthcare knowledge?”

Zayne's serene demeanor belied a sense of perplexity in his gaze. His eyes never lied. He immediately turned away. 

"Medical expertise is not what I am looking for in it."

“What is it then?” You placed a hand on your chin thoughtfully. “Is there anything that even Doctor Know-It-All Zayne has to learn from love stories? Unless it's…”

You abruptly discontinued talking. It appeared you already knew the answer.

Zayne glanced at you for a brief moment. He pursed his lips, but it was evident he was smiling.

“People easily find what they want in fiction.” He explained. “For instance, if a girl likes to read romance, then she is waiting for such a sweet love story.”

“That doesn't sound like something Doctor Zayne would say.” You inquired once again: "Are those actually Yvonne's words?"

You guessed, given that you just witnessed the nurse passing the identical book to Doctor Greyson in the corridor.

Zayne confessed that Yvonne had suggested that he read the romantic novels you enjoyed to better understand you.

Zayne admitted that Yvonne had hinted that he should read the type of romance novels you liked to understand you better.

“I've never dated anyone before.” Zayne did not look you in the eye, but his fingers were squeezing your hand as he stood up. “At the start of our relationship, I had certain concerns. I'd want to know which type of partner you prefer, or how you wish to be loved."

You could not hold back the happy smile on your lips anymore. The fact that Zayne was so open about what he was thinking like this was enough to bring you closer to him.

“You can just ask me. Just like how you would always answer my questions about anything.” 

You took initiative to stand on tiptoe and wrapped your arms around Zayne's neck. He gently rubbed his nose against the tip of yours.

“I like to be loved by you in your own way,” you whispered very softly, just enough for the two of you to hear even though there was no one else in the office. “There is no need for any stereotypes. Just be yourself, because that's who I like.”

As soon as you finished speaking, you placed a gentle kiss on Zayne's cheek and added: "Do you find me easy to please?"

Zayne lifted you up and let your feet rest on his. “You are as easy to please as a three-year-old child. Just give you sweets and a few romance books, you would obediently sit still all day."

“As expected, the person who understands me best is certainly Doctor Zayne!”

𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒃 

During the summer, after graduating from high school and waiting for the official announcement from the Hunter Association, you spent the whole day lying at home resting. And, with so much spare time, you began re-reading literature that you had previously missed.

While you were giggling with a romance book in your hands, Caleb stepped in. He snatched it and said:

“Does Gran know you're still reading these things?”

“First,” you said. “Grandma is not at home. Second, I am old enough to read whatever I like now.”

You extended a hand towards Caleb, but he refused to give the book back. He quickly glanced at the cover, then looked at you with a serious expression.

“Pip-squeak, did you forget that I and Grandma had to confiscate your books?”

You crossed your arms over the chest and huffed at him. “Speaking of which, you were a snitch who told her about my books.”

“You stayed up all night reading until your eyes got dark circles.” Caleb laughed. “While you must focus on studying. Books like this will give you a false perspective on love. I'm just worried that any boy would say a few sweet words like in those stories, and you would give him your heart."

“Do you even know what I read?” You sighed. “But you got exactly what you wanted. I've graduated from high school without having had a single romance. Now give me back the book so I can continue daydreaming, okay?"

You sat up straight and were about to reach out to take the book back when he held it up higher. He shook his head.

"Not yet. I must read it first to ensure that this book is safe.”

He sat in another armchair and proceeded to open the book to the page you were already reading. Quick as lightning, you darted forward and placed your hands over to stop him.

"No way! This… You can't read it!”

Caleb glanced at you with perplexed eyes. With just one hand, he easily pushed you away. 

“I said, you can't read it!”

The more you attempted to reclaim the book, more firmly Caleb held both of your hands. He rapidly read the stuff you never wished him to know. You bit your lip and dropped your head to the floor in ashamed defeat.

He knew. 

He knew what you read. He knew what kind of love you were desperately hoping for.

A moment later, after about ten pages, Caleb turned to look at his sister, who was sitting on the ground in her pajamas and her hair undone still. You simply wanted to hide yourself away so he would never find you, since you knew he would only lecture you.

In fact, you were waiting for that lecture to happen, but Caleb said absolutely nothing for a while. He closed the book and placed it on the sofa.

“So…” He eventually spoke. “The story you are reading… Is it the romance between a brother and his sister?”

“Foster brother and sister.” You added it right away. “They are orphans… Like us.”

You deliberately said the last words in the most quiet tone. But Caleb heard it. He cleared his throat. 

“So you like romantic stories… like this?”

You covertly gazed at him before turning away immediately. This room suddenly became so airless.

When you were alone, you could let your imagination run wild. You could prolong the daydream in which you were free to express your feelings. Just like the heroine in the story. Yes, you adored that story, because it told you about the romance that bloomed between two orphans who were adopted and fell in love with each other as they grew up. You enjoyed portraying yourself as the female lead and dreaming that he was the male lead.

That was probably why you dated nobody during your school years. That was probably why you always waited for his vacation to greet him when he returned from Skyhaven.

You wanted to be connected to him in a different way than being his adopted sister.

Then he already knew everything. How could you simply bury this guilt? You dared not look at him anymore. Nonetheless, Caleb sat down in front of you, on the floor. His hand was placed very close to yours.

“Well… You could have told me that you…” Caleb stopped mid-sentence. You also did not know what to say in this case. Then he decided to leave.

During that weekend, you never spoke to each other save for brief phrases when compelled to say something. 

Caleb returned home the following weekend, but he arrived by the doorstep late at night. The unexpected summer downpour soaked him. You soon let him inside and after taking a shower, Caleb sat in the living room alone with his hair still dripping.

“You should dry your hair.” You spoke, in your hand a clean cotton towel.

Caleb grinned, but averted your gaze. "You usually help me with it."

You refused to say anything else and proceeded gently towards him. There was a chaotic sense between the two of you, as if a fire that had been smoldering for a long time suddenly flared up in violence.

You did not sit next to Caleb, but rather stood behind the sofa, drying his hair. Caleb's eyes were closed, he leaned back slightly, and his gorgeous face was directed towards you. If it had not been for the cotton towel, his hair and head would have likely touched your abdomen.

"It's done." You spoke quietly. You slowly took one step backwards. But Caleb reached out and held you back.

“Pip-squeak, don't go.”

You lost your breath and lowered the head to look down at him. His eyes opened a little, just enough to capture the image of you half confused, half expectant like this.

“Do you still read that story?”

Your head shook slightly as an answer.

"How come? Why did you stop?"

“It makes me… think about nonsense. Didn't you want me to stop reading those kinds of novels and hoping too much for a romance?"

Caleb laughed. His cold fingers touched your cheek, then slid down to the corner of your ruby lips.

“What a pity. The two characters in that story seemed to… truly be together eventually.”

He knew, since he had read ten more pages than you. You never picked up that book again after that day.

“Of course, because they are the male and female protagonists...” You replied in a soft tone.

“You can also be the main character,” said Caleb. “You are the main character in your own story. So… How would you write it?”

He looked at you for a long moment, waiting for your reaction. Waiting for a sign from you. Waiting for you to let him in. 

At last, you allowed yourself to be immersed in his touch, his breath and the delicate aroma of soap on his skin. You rubbed against his palm, your head lowered slightly to get a little closer to him. 

If you were the heroine in that story, you would hope this dream to never fade.

“I want… I want Caleb to be mine…”

[phoenixyfriend]

On the topic of current events with Dems in the US, actually, I think it's important to note that Biden is absolutely putting separation of church and state into effect with regards to personal belief. This man is a practicing Catholic who does not personally believe in abortion on a spiritual level. He also has a pro-choice voting record (admittedly depends on the decade, but recently he's definitely been on the choice side) and has finally started speaking up (though is, reasonably, leaving most of the public speaking on this topic to Harris) about his political belief being that it's wrong to ban reproductive rights the way the GOP wants, and actually called it cruel.

Like... IDK why it feels so novel that a politician can say "my religion disagrees with this, but most of the country is not my religion, and quite frankly it's not my business what they do even when they ARE catholic. That's a personal decision, not a government one."

There is room for improvement, but given that he's migrated left since the 1970s, that improvement is definitely possible.