#number one on the list of books i wish i could read for the first time again

[wander-wren]

another friend of mine is reading soc for the first time and i’m vibrating with excitement

[gloomwitchwrites]

secret baby trope with tf141? 😌😌

Anon! OH. MY. GOOOOOD. I love this. I love this. I love this. Secret baby? Yes, please. I adore this trope. I bow down to you for requesting this. I don't know who you are but I wish that I did. I can absolutely get behind a secret baby trope. I actually read a book recently that was a bit like that and I enjoyed it so so much.

I had an absolute blast putting this one together. Seriously. You totally indulged me here. Thank you!!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, stalking, possessive behavior, second chances, pregnancy / unplanned pregnancy, parenthood, reunions, light angst

Word Count: 2.3k

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle relaxes further into the couch. The air around him is slightly smoky.

He brings his vape to his lips and takes a hit. The action is calming, and that’s exactly what he wants. Kyle is rotting, and it feels fucking good.

Between missions, Kyle is always somewhere, but right not there is no reason for him to do anything. He can relax. He can watch reality television, eat himself to sickness, and wank off until his wrist hurts.

It’s bloody fucking brilliant.

Kyle isn’t attached. He has no kids. The only responsibility required of him is the one he has to himself. Which is why he’s splayed out on the couch in nothing but grey sweatpants and his vape. The television is on, and the volume is low. It’s mostly for background noise. Kyle isn’t really paying attention to it.

With a vape in one hand and his phone in the other, Kyle scrolls through his contacts. There are all the usual people there, but there are also a slew of general acquaintances and a long list of people he’s had it off with but never took anything further.

He pauses at one name, and old memories resurface.

They just happen upon him. Kyle doesn’t drag them up from the depths. They linger there, and Kyle remembers all the fun he had with you.

You were just a small fling. A few lengthy but deliciously good fucks that tops most of the sex he’s ever had in his life. There have been times since he last saw you—over a year now—that Kyle has thought about what could have been.

You were sweet. A potential partner. But Kyle didn’t follow through. He would regret it, but things can’t be taken back. There is no turning back the clock to change what has already occurred.

Kyle’s thumb hovers above the screen.

He shouldn’t. He really fucking shouldn’t.

But he does. Because why not?

Switching over apps, Kyle starts scrolling social media. He doesn’t usually give a shit about what’s happening in people’s lives, but he is curious about you. What are you up to? What are you doing? If you’re not attached, maybe he could call you up, rekindle what was once there.

You don’t have him blocked on anything—thank fuck—and Kyle delves into your socials, exploring your life. At first, the small infant in your arms is nothing to him, but then the tiny human keeps reappearing, and Kyle pauses.

Kyle scrolls a bit more. And stops.

Just three—no—four months ago, there are a slew of friends and family congratulating you on the birth of your son.

Your…son.

Kyle thinks back. Does the math in his head.

“Fuck,” he mutters, sitting up, gaze glued on the screen.

He scrolls back, studying every photo where your son is featured. Kyle’s heart slams in his chest. The features Kyle sees are features he sees every time he looks in the mirror.

“Fucking hell,” groans Kyle, the phone nearly slipping from his hands as he slumps back against the couch.

Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you contact him?

The very thought of you not reaching out doesn’t sit well with him. It sits heavy in his stomach.

“Fuck,” says Kyle, switching over to his contacts.

He finds Simon’s number and taps the call button.

It rings on the other end, and Kyle doesn’t think that he’ll answer. But he does.

“Kyle,” comes Simon’s gruff voice.

Kyle sighs. “I need you to track someone down for me.”

John Price

John doesn’t like cutting off contact with people.

He likes to keep in touch, even if it’s just an acquaintance. But things happen, like a fucked phone with no way to retrieve contacts, and the only people he’s able to retrieve are those he sees on a regular basis.

Your number is gone. And John has no way to get it back.

Legally that is. He could try and find you in the system. What information he has is minimal, but then again, the two of you only had a one-night stand. He’s prone to it since he’s never in one place. Always moving around.

John would like to settle down one day, but his work is his life, and it just doesn’t seem possible to have a family and be consistent with them when he’s constantly called away.

He chews it over while sitting in his office. It’s late, and there isn’t anyone else here but him. Late nights like this are calming to him—a time to process away from the events of the day. John has your first name, where you might live, and a general idea of what your number is. But he isn’t certain, and it’s hardly enough to go on.

Sighing, deciding he’d rather find you than not, John turns on his computer. It takes a while to get the classified systems he has access to. No one tracks what he does on here, and no one will think twice if they do happen to look. John runs lots of names and faces through this system.

John waits. Ponders. Enters in different spellings and every possible clue to try and seek you out. With every new search, John begins to lose hope. He might be completely fucked. Completely at a loss.

If this doesn’t work, he might not ever see you again. And for some goddamn reason, that bothers him.

He tries one last time, expecting nothing, only for his heart to drop into his stomach,

“There you are,” he murmurs, leaning forward, gaze sweeping over your passport photo.

Grabbing a piece of paper, John jots down your phone number and current address. He also notes your top place of employment. You might not be there anymore, but that isn’t an issue. He has enough.

John shuts off his computer and grabs his coat. He’ll try to reach out first by phone and go from there.

“You have the wrong number, bud.”

The man’s southern drawl irks John. “You sure?”

“Yeah I’m fucking sure. Quit calling.”

John frowns as the line goes dead. The number on file isn’t recent.

“Fuck,” mutters John, running his hand through his hair.

This is getting him nowhere. The only other option is showing up at your home or place of employment, but he can’t do that unless he’s on scheduled leave. That’s months away.

And each month is fucking agony.

When John finally makes it to your front door, nervousness sets in. This is completely fucking weird. Who the fuck shows up at someone’s door months after a one-night stand? Him apparently.

But fuck it. He’s here.

Either he does this and things go great, or things go to shit and he doesn’t need to worry about it anymore.

John takes a deep breath, and then pounds on the door. He takes a step back, hands in his pockets as he waits. There is a stretch of silence, and then he hears it—the turn of a deadbolt.

The door swings open, and there you are, just as beautiful from when he first saw you. At first, your brow scrunches in confusion, and then your eyes widen.

“John,” you breathe.

He smiles, and then his gaze drops as your hand moves away from the doorknob to land on your stomach. Your belly is round. Protruding. You’re—oh shit.

“Is that—”

“Yours?”

Fuck.

John glances up into your eyes and swallows.

You shift on your feet, one hand resting against the doorframe.

“It is,” you confirm.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon shouldn’t. Really—it’s fucked up. Wrong.

But he does it anyway because there is no fucking way he’s letting you go even if he has to watch from afar.

He’s done a lot of things he isn’t proud of, and losing you is near the top of the list. Not that he blames you for breaking it off. You had every right. Simon is always gone. Always away. And he rarely thought of you when he came home.

Communication can be a difficult thing for him. He knows this, and yet he couldn’t make an effort to do better with you. It wounds him. It does. Like a sharp blade to the gut.

But that is secondary now. Simon has dismissed it.

Sure, you’re not truly his now, but you’ll come back to him. He’ll make sure of it.

In the dark, Simon watches. Before him is a slew of screens and all of them show different angles of your home. Simon also has your phone tapped, and in another window, he can lurk through your messages and emails.

It’s where he first learned you were pregnant.

You know, and haven’t told him. Haven’t reached out in the slightest. Simon has to see all the results and tests come back via your email. He has to log into your medical portal to access specific things which is goddamn frustrating but he needs to know.

You are fucking pregnant. With his child.

It’s growing in your belly.

Even through the camera feed, Simon can see the swell of your stomach. He wants to be there, to stand beside you, and rest his hand against it. He wants to feel his son kick. Because you are carrying his son in your belly. Simon saw the results.

It’s fucking painful watching you like this.

He’s stayed away for a bit. Not engaging.

But you’ve broken it off before, and came back eventually.

Simon just needs an in again. All he has to do is figure it out, and then he can put away these fucking screens and surveillance. He can be by your side and be there when you give birth.

Leaning back in his chair, Simon observes every screen, his palm rubbing against his thigh as he considered his options.

He has to play this right.

He has to.

John "Soap" MacTavish

“Do you think you’ll ever find your woman again?”

Johnny grins behind his pint glass. “If she’s here,” he replies.

The beer is perfectly cold and goes down easily. It’s refreshing since it’s so bloody hot outside.

Johnny didn’t think he’d ever come back to the little seaside town. He came between missions—a way to relax and get away for a bit. With only a few hundred residents, it seemed like the perfect place. What he didn’t expect was to meet a woman that upended his fatigue and made him glow a little brighter.

He learned your name while exploring a local pub. You were a pretty thing. Caught Johnny’s eye immediately. With several beers fueling him, Johnny struck up a conversation, and you were receptive to his charm—melting like butter over fresh toast.

That evening, the two of you jumped from pub to pub, having a bloody good time. It was fucking magical. Afterward, the two of you ventured back to Johnny’s hotel room. But the two of you didn’t have sex. It wasn’t until the next morning that Johnny actually fucked you.

Johnny had presented himself, you slid right into his arms. The hotel bed was well-used. There wasn’t a moment after that Johnny didn’t have his dick inside you. He kept you full and screaming his name for an entire fucking week.

But when that week was up, the two of you parted ways. You gave Johnny your number, and for a couple months, you were consistent in your texts and phone calls. Then it all changed, and you began to contact him less frequently.

Eventually, you didn’t talk to Johnny at all.

He was hurt at first. He tried to reach out. But Johnny didn’t hear a thing—and he left you to it. Maybe someone else arrived into your life. Johnny can respect that even if he doesn’t exactly like it.

It sucked then. And it still pains him a bit now. Johnny liked you when you left—and if he’s being entirely honest with himself—he still fucking likes you.

Maybe you’ll be here. Maybe you won’t.

Kyle is with him this time. A guy’s trip. Price isn’t one for vacations, and Simon has his own shit going on.

“We could try that pub again,” suggests Kyle. “See if she’s there.”

Johnny shrugs. “Maybe.”

“Did she live here?” asks Kyle.

Johnny nods. “Aye. Sure did.”

Kyle bobs his head. “We’ll find her.”

The two of them sit outside a small pub. The air is laced with salt from the ocean, and the sun is out, shining bright. It’s hot, but it’s a beautiful fucking day.

Johnny hums in agreement, bringing his pint glass back to his lips. For a moment, Johnny glances away from Kyle, looking out across the road where people walk along the pavement. He frowns.

Is that?

No. Can’t be.

His focus becomes a tunnel, and all he can see is the woman across the road. It’s you. There is no doubt. He knows that body, that hair and smile. You haven’t changed all that much. Not really.

There is another woman with you—a friend that Johnny met briefly before you and him went off on your own.

But that isn’t what has Johnny’s attention.

You’ve turned, and Johnny can see a swell to your stomach. Your hand cradles it affectionately.

“What is it?” asks Kyle, but his voice is distant.

“That’s her,” murmurs Johnny, his pint glass lowering back to the table.

You don’t see him. You’re chatting with your friend, features animated. The curve in your stomach is fairly large, and a deep twisting in his stomach arises, moving toward his throat.

“Oh fuck,” says Johnny as Kyle shifts to look in the direction Johnny is staring.

“Is that?”

“It fucking is.”

“She’s fucking pregnant.”

Johnny swallows. “Aye.”

He doesn’t want to admit it, but it’s likely the fucking truth. The baby is probably his. No wonder you stopped talking to him. Maybe you thought it best to cut off contact when you found out.

But that doesn’t sit right with him either. If you had told him, Johnny could have been there for you sooner—not finding out like this.

You throw your head back and laugh, playfully hitting your friend’s arm as she says something funny. When you wipe at your face, clearing tears, your gaze shifts, and all the humor leaves your face.

You’re staring right at Johnny.

And he’s staring back.

taglist:

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@enarien @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

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@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez

@whisperwispxx @gingergirl06 @eternallyvenus @smileykiddie08 @arrozyfrijoles23

[violettaskies]

Of Books & Beasts

Prompt: virginity

Paring: best friend!steve harrington x f!reader

Genre: romance, slow burn, friends to lovers, one bed trope

Notes: wc 9.1k // my first kinktober story (one of five) // hope everyone enjoys it // it’s very soft // a little scary movie night sleep over // reader falls asleep next to steve and things get a little steamy // i wrote everything to have as much consent as possible // steve is a bit of a perv lol

Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY, NSFW // slight somnophilia, dry humping, virginity loss, vaginal fingering // masturbation // smut // 'just the tip' is used once or twice // please let me know if there is anymore that need to be added!

ao3 // kinktober masterlist // full masterlist // lazy ghoul’s kinktober prompts

-:-:-:-:-

The night was meant to be a simple one. After weeks of assignments, exams, quizzes, and extracurricular activities at college, all you wanted to do was relax. Well, you still had one more assignment left to do, but maybe you were able to kill two birds with one stone, right? 

Luckily, this assignment was one that you could easily ask for help with from your friend. Someone who always stole movies for you to borrow on many weekends anyways. With your class being based on books which turned into film adaptations, it means a lot of time spent reading and watching. In truth, you felt bad for your classmates who had to rent out the tapes for extended periods just to finish analysis for assignments; all while you didn’t even need to bat an eyelash in Steve’s direction for him to hide movies in your backpack while his manager wasn’t looking. 

With the theme of this particular assignment matching the season and going with horror films, a movie night was something that you craved. Thick sweaters, even thicker blankets, a bit of hot chocolate, and candy from the grocery store that had the orange and black packaging — they were all of the aspects to the marathon you proposed when you walked into Family Video on a Friday afternoon after you got off the bus. Despite all of your convincing tactics, your friend already had his answer long before you began to ask.

“Anything for you, dove. I’ll get everything on this list for us,” Steve smiled at you, after looking at the assignment rubric, as you stood on the other side of the cash register. 

“Alright, maybe I should place a pizza order now so that we don’t starve during the Friday dinner rush tonight,” you said sweetly as you nervously thought about what to order. 

“Don’t you worry about it, it’s on me. Let me treat you a little.” 

“I’m the one who asked you to have a movie marathon with me, I should really be the one paying,” you insisted while you brought your hand closer to the telephone. 

But, quickly, the man was able to grasp it lightly to stop you from moving towards the numbers. You could never admit just how much your skin tingled at the touch. “I’m serious. This shift finishes in twenty minutes, then I can drive us home and I’m all yours. Do whatever you want with me, dove. I can even help out with your stress relief later. Maybe I’ll bend —” 

“Please don’t continue that sentence,” you cut him off easily. Steve always loved to tease you and any eavesdroppers who may be listening in and theorizing if you two were dating or not. The town is full of gossip fiends. “Any louder and people will start to believe you.” 

The younger Harrington chuckled as he got out from behind the counter to stand fully in front of you. He adored to see the way you outwardly pretended you hated the fake moves he would pull. From him putting his arm around your shoulder whilst walking around town, whistling every other time he picked you up from the city bus stop, to intimidating every guy who looked in your direction for too long. However, both of you never knew the other wished for it all to be real. 

“Fine, fine, I’ll be good and stop teasing you,” he chuckled lowly. 

“Thank you,” you smiled to yourself before looking up at Steve with wide eyes. “So will you also be buying garlic knots tonight too?” 

“Yes, as long as you promise to stay awake until the final movie, sleepy girl.” 

-:-:-:-:-

You, in fact, did not stay awake the whole movie night. It wasn’t Tim Curry’s fault either. Normally, it was tradition for you two to end off every evening like this with one musical or something more lighthearted to offset the mood. But the day just exhausted you from every angle, that once you finally got to relax and watch a movie for leisure — you relaxed a little too hard. Adding the components of the cold pizza and Steve putting a blanket on you while continuously keeping a grasp on your knee, you were bound to knock out before the movie ended. Later, it was Steve who woke you up with a whisper in your ear. The sound shocked you at first, and then when you opened your eyes to see the man kneeling in front of you, it did cause a slightly loud gasp to escape your lips. After some groaning on your end about not wanting to intrude, you finally gave in to the invitation Steve gave to let you sleep over tonight. The main contributing factor had to be the fact that the man had a really nice blanket and pillow set that felt like it came from a hotel. 

However, as you both ended off the night in your room, it was Steve who began to groan — although, it was due to pure frustration.

“I don’t have any clean clothes,” your host said as he rummaged through his drawers. 

“How about any sweater and some of those long johns your mother always buys you?” you giggled as you sat on the bed now, reading a book you recently checked out from the library. 

“Or you could always sleep naked, I heard it’s really healthy for you. Plus, I would not mind at — ow,” Steve was on his little sarcastic joke before you threw an old pair of socks at his head. 

“Maybe I should just head home, this feels like such a nuisance to you,” you smiled and whispered shyly. 

Steve really was trying hard to find you something to sleep in. So much so that it caused some sweat to drop on his forehead. But, truly, the man was standing there trying to work up the courage to ask you to put on one of his old swim team sweaters and a cotton pair of shorts he knew would hug your body beautifully. 

Yes, you have slept over before when you were younger. However, those were all planned out with you bringing something from home. Well, there was one emergency where you stayed the night due to a horrific snow storm; but, Mrs. Harrington was there to give you your Christmas present a few weeks early and allow you to sleep in some pyjamas which were covered in cute bunnies. This was the first time you would be here spontaneously alone with Steve — and god, did he feel like all of his prayers were answered. The amount of times he has imagined you laying on his bed, committing the most sinful acts, in various positions and scenarios, could be seen as absolutely perverted. So to have the opportunity to have you on his bed, wearing his clothes, covered in his blanket; it all seemed unfathomable to the man. 

“Here,” Steve exclaimed quickly so that you would actually stay. “Maybe you would be alright with this sweatshirt and some shorts?” 

“This is more than alright. Thank you, Steve,” You skipped off to the washroom to finally get ready for bed and let your friend change into his own pyjamas. 

However, when you got the clothing on, it was so embarrassing to stare into the mirror. Everything fits fine — and on a normal day at home, you would probably wear something similar. But remembering the fact that you would be sleeping next to your best friend was so nerve wracking. It was just a lot shorter than what you would usually wear around him if you did wear a skirt or shorts. You just thanked the heavens that the blanket would be covering your legs so that you didn’t feel as exposed. 

Not that you believed Steve would try anything; not that you didn’t want him to try anything either. But, you were scared of getting so cold and cuddling too close to him like you did last December during the winter storm. Waking up in Steve’s arms caused your heart to flutter so harshly that your heart rate didn’t go down for days. It made you think about how badly you wished you could wake up to his handsome face everyday. Most especially, it made you think about how nicely his leg felt right in between your thighs, and the way it massaged your — 

No. 

This was an innocent sleepover like the thousands that other best friends have had over the years. All you had to do was sleep next to him with a pillow between your bodies and hope you didn’t accidentally roll your way into his arms again. You weren’t sure if you were ready for the heartbreak of knowing that being entwined in each other’s arms would not last forever. 

“Do you want the left or right side of the bed?” Steve called out from the other side of the door, startling you out of your thoughts. 

“Anything is fine,” you replied whilst opening the door. Seeing that Steve was laying in the middle, ready to roll over to whichever side you preferred. The image of him with arms and legs spread out made you giggle. 

“The left side is closer to the lamp if you’d like to read a bit before sleeping,” he said as he shifted over to the ride side of the bed and patted to your new spot. 

“Are you a mind reader or something?” you chuckled between steps.

Steve put the book in the air as you tucked yourself into bed, a nice distance away from him. Once he saw you were comfortable, he placed the book gently in your lap and said: “no, but I could tell your little nap will probably have you staying awake for the next hour or so.” 

“Oh, if the light is gonna bother you then I can turn it off and head to sleep too.” 

The concern in your eyes was absolutely beautiful. As you started up at him with the lamp glowing behind you, you looked like a nymph in the night. And oh how Steve knew he would be the luckiest man alive to sleep next to you. 

“Go ahead, dove. I can sleep through anything,” he whispered lowly whilst rubbing your thigh that was covered by the thick blanket. “What’s it about anyways?” 

You took a deep breath to calm down before speaking. Steve’s touch caused you to feel warm, even more so when he squeezed your thigh every few moments. “Not too sure about the entire plot since I’m only on chapter two. But it’s about a prince and his beast companion. They’ve been best friends for a long time and are going on adventures. This was in the romance section so I’m guessing the best friends fall in love,” you rambled, getting quieter with the last few words. 

What a dream. 

“Is it dirty?” Steve teased as he sunk further underneath the blanket. 

“No, I-I’ve never read a story like that before,” you said sternly. 

“Oh, I believe you,” his voice got deeper and slower with each word, only indicating that he was bound to fall asleep any second. “Have fun reading.” 

They were the last words he said before drifting off to sleep peacefully next to you. Luckily, that meant it was a lot easier to read the rest of the book until you felt your own eyes start closing and the words on the page started to become blurry. 

It was a beautiful story, full of lore and love, a mix of historical fiction and mythology. After reading and watching stories based on the horror genre for a few weeks now, it was nice to have a little bit of a break and just read about love. Your heart started to feel warm and giddy as each page passed — even going as far as quietly giggling when you felt your cheeks feel warm as a result of the prince’s romantic actions throughout the book. You didn’t even notice that you were sinking further and further into the blanket because you were so engrossed in the imaginary world. It didn’t even matter that the angle made your back hurt a little. 

Well, not really. Once you started to feel stiff, you moved into a straighter position. However, you were interrupted by a low and groggy voice. 

“You want to get under here?” Steve asked you through half-lidded eyes and his arm moving to invite you to move even closer into his body. 

Wordlessly, you accepted the offer and went right up to Steve’s body. The book was on his chest while your cheek was at his side. Everything felt so comfortable and domestic — a part of you wished this could last forever. 

But right then, the storyline of the book went on a different path, to say the least. 

You see, the prince got hurt whilst fighting off some evil spirits. He was bleeding everywhere and in so much pain. But the companion, a beautiful wolf-demon, was able to heal his wounds to the point where it wouldn’t be so life threatening. It was so simple, to use a little magic and bandages in hopes of survival, but the author was able to portray it wonderfully. To thank the woman, the prince moved his arms around her to hold her a warm embrace. It was so sweet, just like the position you were in now. However, it took a turn for the romantics. A little too romantic. An activity you definitely were not currently doing with Steve. 

The man kissed her sweetly: from her shoulders, up to her neck, then finally landed on her plump lips. It was beautiful, so serene, accompanied by a drawing of the two in bed with locked lips and legs. Slowly, she started to rock against his leg, adoring the pressure against the place no one had touched before. As she gasped into each kiss, the prince smiled in tandem. Even moving his hips to help the lady feel more pleasure. You wondered how that felt, it was only a slight movement of the hips — there was no way it could feel that good.

But you were so wrong. 

Just as you tried to move positions, Steve moved his leg upwards, moving his thigh right against your heat. It felt so good, to the point where you bit your lip to suppress the whimper that was about to escape your lips. The man next to you, tried to find a better position to sleep in too, moving his legs some more until it found solace as it intertwined with your own legs. 

Fuck, it felt really good. You tried so hard not to move your hips in tandem so that you could amp up the pleasure. So instead, you continued to read, trying to focus on the writing techniques and nothing else. However, you only began noting the things the characters did with one another. How they whispered sweet nothings as they continued their game to see how long it would take the lady to climax. And you noticed the way you felt warm between your legs, a slight throbbing to seal the deal. 

Maybe in another world you would wake up Steve and ask him to let you out of his embrace so that you could excuse yourself to the washroom and down. But not in this one. In this world, you were at peace in his arms. In this world, you really didn’t care about the throbbing ache between your legs because you were extremely sleepy. In this world, you would convince yourself that it would pass. In this world, the sound of both your hearts beating as one was enough of a lullaby to cause even the most stubborn of characters to sleep. Just as you did now, with the book still on Steve’s chest, and your bodies squeezing closer together. 

-:-:-:-:-

Steve was an extremely heavy sleeper when he was with you. Most of the time, you would be awake first during these little sleepovers and do something before he even pried his eyes open and then decided to keep them shut because of the sun seeping through the windows. It wouldn’t surprise Steve to see you reading at your desk or braiding friendship bracelets when you had that arts n’ crafts phase a couple years ago. This time, however, he was the one who awoke in the middle of the night to movement from beside him. Maybe it was due to some level of paranoia he has gained over the past few years regarding a life that he wishes you would never need to experience. It’s funny that you were reading books with monsters the world has nightmares about, while he was one of the people who was facing them. He wishes so badly to protect you from all of it. So when you started moving in your sleep, something you never do, Steve felt his body wake up in an instant. 

His eyes were having trouble fully opening themselves as he could hear faint whimpering sounds coming from you and slight movements near his thigh. It was enough to turn his head to the left to see what was wrong. But nothing was wrong per se. If anything this was right out of a perverted fantasy he has had millions of times before. 

As his eyes finally came into focus at what was in front of him, Steve could only smile and thank the heavens. You were laying in the same position you initially fell asleep in: book held in your hand, it being face down on Steve’s chest on a particular page, while your own face was on the side of his chest. But, the thing that surprised him the most was the grip your thighs had around his own. Slowly, your hips were thrusting back and forth against his leg, humping over and over. Whenever your body hit the perfect spot against your clit, you would mewl against his chest, sending a vibration through his body. Your hard nipples would poke Steve’s stomach once in a while too. 

Good Lord, he was so distracted by the vision of you thrusting against his thigh, that he didn’t realize just how hard he had become. He only noticed it when your leg tensed up and moved towards his crotch, touching the underside and head in the process. 

You were about to become the death of him tonight. 

Curiously, he picked up the book you were reading to put it on the bedside table, when the words jumped out at him. 

“And then the prince lifted the dress of the maiden beast. How scary she was to the eyes of the kingdom, but how beautiful she looked with swollen lips and lust-filled eyes. She was wet, so wet that it seeped through the layers of clothing.”

Just then, Steve looked down to notice how your wetness was doing the same thing. Your arousal had gone past your shorts and went onto the cotton bottoms he was wearing. But he wouldn’t have it any other way.

The man skipped a few paragraphs to see just exactly what the prince and his lady were up to. Words of biting, screaming, thrusting harshly against the wall, even scratches along one another’s backs. It was pornographic, it was beautiful, and Steve was shocked that your virgin eyes read through some of this before falling asleep. 

If only he could recreate it with you. Seeing you moan and move to your lust-filled slumber was more than enough of a dream come true to the man. But this was wrong. So wrong. You both were best friends. He loved you, wished he could be more with you. But he believed that wasn’t worthy of you. You were the princess this whole town adored while he was just a former playboy many people seemed to dislike sometimes. There was a part of him that wanted to see how long it would take for you to come against his leg. However, his guilt took over quickly. 

“Wake up, my dove. It’s getting hot in here.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. The mixture of blankets and his arousal made Steve sweat through his clothes easily. 

“Hm? What?” You rolled more onto his chest, your weight atop his body nicely. It would have been the world’s most comfortable position, one that would start off most of his perverted fantasies about you; however, he had to stop himself from thrusting against your thigh that was now perfectly on top of his hardness. “Feels so nice, Stevie,” you murmured, still half-asleep. 

“Fuck — you really like that, huh?” The man whispered as you looked up at him with glazed eyes. You were still not cognizant that what you were doing was not in a dream. 

“I feel so warm down there, your leg is massaging me nicely,” you moaned whilst humping some more. “Kiss me, please.” 

Every move you were doing, every word you were saying, every whimper that came out of your throat — the man has imagined it all before. You were all of his greatest fantasies come to life. He wished so badly to ravish you on the spot and satiate all of the pent-up pleasure your body needed to release. Your lips were swollen now from all of the biting you’ve been doing to quiet down your moans; but, good god, the man was going to memorize it all for the sake of his future sessions with his right hand. 

Steve really needed to stop this, and fully wake you up as soon as possible. This wasn’t the normal you, you didn’t even realize exactly what you were doing. “Pretty girl, no matter how much I want to continue this, we can’t.” The words fell from his lips painfully. 

“Why not? You don’t feel good?” You whimpered as you reached up and put your arms around Steve’s neck, stopping your hips’ movements all together. 

“Feels so good, baby,” Steve moaned loudly this time as he thrusted against your leg like he imagined a million times before. It wasn't helping that you thought your face closer to his in order to hear his breathy moans easier. The man was so close to leaning forward and kissing your plump lips. “But, this isn’t a dream, and you’re not fully awake. I don’t want you to regret this—”

The man was going to ramble on and continue to comfort you into waking up fully. However, you got the message loud and clear. So much so, that your heart dropped and you gasped. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I’ll move over t-there — ah.” The moan coming out of your mouth was completely involuntary as you lifted your body up and intended on moving down and away from Steve’s figure. 

“Did that feel good?” Steve teased, now that you were both fully cognizant of your sleeping status. 

“I don’t know why I did that, I’m sorry.” If only you could apologize a million times, because you would; your guilty conscience would make sure of it. 

“You probably had some sweet dreams, huh?” 

Just as you were separated from the man, you heard his words and looked over at his figure. Through the dim lighting of the lamp, you could see that he was holding up the novel you were reading before bed, and it was open to the very scene that inspired any of your hormone-induced movements tonight. 

“Oh no,” you whispered. Looking down, there was a wet spot on Steve’s thigh where your heat was pressed against. He was admiring it as if he were memorizing just how it looks. And he was. “This is so embarrassing,” you though out loud

“It’s no big deal, dove. Guys have nudie magazines and a video here and there. I would never judge you for a little novel,” Steve chuckled as he sat up to the headboard to mirror your actions. 

“I didn’t know it was going to be like that in the story,” you whispered. 

“Did you like it?” Your friend was genuinely curious. Throughout your history as friends, you had never even asked him for advice about relationships — this erotic chapter of the novel must have been a shocking first exposure to it all. 

You thought about the question for a few moments. Remembering the emotions and fire you felt in different parts of your body, you could really only tell him the truth. “Y-yeah, I suppose so.”  

“Then don’t feel embarrassed or bad about it,” Steve nudged your shoulder sweetly to make you feel less embarrassed over the situation. “Never thought you were into reading it in front of other people though.”

“Don’t tease,” you pouted, putting your head under the blanket to hide from the embarrassment. 

“I’ll stop, I promise. But, you did give me a wonderful way to wake up,” you could hear him smiling just by the sound of his voice. 

Those words made you slowly peek your way out of the thick blanket to see Steve looming over you with a smirk that teased your soul. The lamp in the room made him glow, while the moon’s beams that were seeping through the blinds made him look like one of the many drawings of the prince in the book you were just reading. It took all the strength within you, not to squeeze your thighs together and satiate the throbbing between them. 

“Let’s never talk about this again,” you whispered, the blanket still covering your mouth. 

“If that’s what you would be comfortable with,” Steve chuckled as he laid back in his spot. 

“Y-yes, I would be.” 

After a moment of awkward silence, you both in regular sleeping positions, Steve wanted to break the ice a bit. “It is a well-written book. Maybe I could borrow it sometime.” 

“You’re so annoying,” you giggled, grabbing a small pillow on the bed and lightly hitting his chest with it.

“Learn anything while reading? You could use me as a practice dummy.” The man laid on his side now, looking at you as he put on a seductive tone. 

“You’re just a dummy, Steve,” you playfully scoffed with a giggle. 

“That was the last one, promise. Sweet dreams, dove.” 

In truth, Steve wanted you to sleep as quickly as possible so that he could make his way to the washroom and get rid of his hard problem. It was hurting now, even as he tried to think about anything else that would possibly subside his arousal. Your movements and moans will never be erased from his mind. Steve’s imagination was running wild with how you actually sounded as you were feeling pleasure. 

No one has ever thanked a book more in the history of mankind. 

“Is that what sex is like?” You whispered into the night, cutting off the man’s thoughts. 

“What do you mean?” Steve replied as he turned to his side to look at you staring up to the ceiling.  

“In the book, they talk about it like it happens so fast and hard,” you said the words with a concerned tone while turning your body towards his to face him. 

“Well, it can be fast and hard if the couple wants it that way. But, taking it slow is nice too,” the man next to you chuckled sweetly. 

You felt dumb asking the question. For years, you have known that Steve was a lot more experienced than you in the department of relations with the opposite sex. There have been countless times where Steve would tell you about any dates that he has gone on, or imply lewd acts he committed with his girlfriend of the week. And all you would do is nod out of pure curiosity. However, this was the first time you outright spoke about sex with him. 

“Right, right, that makes sense. It must feel really nice,” you continued your thoughts. 

“It does. Everything is so warm and wet. The noises too are something you’ll never forget. My hand and imagination does not do it justice sometimes.” Right then, Steve’s mind went through flashbacks of times he has laid in bed with the image of you stuck as his muse. He has imagined the way you would react and moan to things he would do with you. Would you bite your lip whilst looking down between your bodies? Would you whimper in the same way you do when you beg Steve to drive you somewhere and he just had a long day at work? Anything you would do would be erotic, and enough fire for him to reach the happiest of endings. However, by the end, he would pray for the day he could experience the real thing with you.  

“I wonder what it will be like for me,” you giggled, bringing the blanket close to your face again. 

“You got a good idea a few minutes ago,” Steve teased as he looked you up and down. 

All you could do was hit his shoulder then hide your face into it as he leaned back onto the bed. “It did feel really, really nice, Steve. I’m so sorry.” 

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. You liked it, didn’t you?” he said, trying to soothe your embarrassment of it all. As he squeezed his arm around you tighter to have you closer to his chest, Steve realized that your bare thighs had found their way around his again. You looked so beautiful cuddling next to him, tightening your legs slowly. “Then, maybe I can help. You didn’t get to finish, sweet girl.” 

The deepness of Steve’s voice resonated through your entire body as you looked up at him with desperate eyes. His proposal sounded so good. You felt this constant throbbing between your legs that only increased ten-fold every time you and Steve accidentally breathed too close together. As you gripped his chest with your hands, and his thigh with your own — you really craved to continue the pleasure you were feeling moments before. 

“I didn’t even know that I started,” you pouted. 

“Oh, but finishing is one of the best parts,” he teased whilst moving his thigh upwards to massage your cunt slowly. 

“Steve—” you moaned like music to his ears.

Your friend began to move his thigh up and down to stroke your pussy, hitting your clit from the right angle to make you bite your lip in between whimpers. He held your face sweetly, making sure that he could see how every movement affected you. Steve was sure that the image of your pupils getting darker would be engraved in his mind forever. 

“My best friend needs help, and you know I would do anything for you,” he whispered, hovering his lips above yours. 

“More, please.” 

“So polite,” Steve teased, quickening his pace and moving one hand to your breasts. “Doing such a dirty thing and now you’re being so nice.” 

“I feel so — I feel like I need more,” you said quietly as if it were a desperate plea. 

Steve squeezed your right breast sweetly, pinching your hardened nipple through the thick sweater fabric. He noted how you thrusted yourself against his thigh and nearly fell onto his lips as you moaned. 

“Is your body on fire? You feel nice, dove,” he smiled, kissing your cheek to tease you. 

“So good. Kiss me, Steve, please.” You weren’t sure what took over your body in that moment, but you gripped onto his hair and leaned your lips towards his. Yet, he was the one who kissed you first. It was a kiss that made the angels sing above you, one that you both have been imagining for years and years. Hearing all of the stories of girls in school raving about his talents with his mouth and tongue — a part of you could never believe that he would be that amazing.

But, you were wrong, so wrong. 

As he kissed you deeply, poking his tongue through to taste you more, you couldn’t help but whimper loudly into the kiss. Steve adored it, promising himself to try everything he could to hear every variation of your beautiful sounds. Just when he brought a hand down to your back, urging your hips to move forwards on his leg, you swear you were about to see stars. This is what all the magazines were talking about. This is what all the whispered conversations during girl talk were giggling about. This is what the novel you were just reading was writing about when it came to the pleasures of the flesh. You remembered what the lady did in the book, and decided to emulate her actions. Although you were slowing down your kisses, your hand found its way to Steve’s clothed hardness. It was nearly peeking out of the sweatpant elastic by now which made you gasp in surprise. 

“God, what did you learn in that book?” Steve moaned as he felt your delicate hand on him. 

“The characters in the story were really good friends too. She was always tempted to be the one who helped him out when he was really stressed out.” You smiled into the kiss, noticing how teasing him only made you wetter. 

You hand gripped his hardness some more, focusing on the large head that could be felt through the fabric.

“Here I thought that was going to be my job tonight,” Steve’s voice was low now as he kissed you down your neck and moved the hand that was previously on your back, to your front. The shorts you were wearing rode up to tighten upon your cunt. The fabric squeezed your clit, and caused your arousal to get all over the place where your thighs met. 

Steve pushed the fabric to the side, noticing how you didn’t wear panties to sleep, and started to lightly massage your clit. “Oh God,” you moaned into his mouth while arching your back. 

The movement made Steve want to lay you down on your back to have easier access between your legs. Although you whimpered in slight disappointment when you didn’t feel the pressure of his thigh, that all went away when the man teased your wet entrance with his fingers before going up to your clit again. 

“No panties, huh? You’re bound to be the death of me.” 

“I normally don’t wear any to bed if I’m wearing shorts,” you whispered, moving yourself to feel his fingers more against your nub. 

“Is it alright if I take these off?” He barely got the question out before you began to nod. 

Looking at you in all your glory was absolutely mind blowing to Steve. He swears that he felt his cock twitch in excitement when he saw your arousal dripping on his sheets. The light from the lamp made you look like you were glowing, and the man was so tempted to taste what he has been craving for so long. But, he took it slow, circling your clit faster and faster as he leaned down to kiss you deeply. As every moan was swallowed by him, Steve began to thrust himself upon the side of your hip to satiate his arousal. 

The moment he stopped kissing you for a moment, he wordlessly looked you in the eye, teasing your entrance now with his fingers. With a nod and smile through bitten lips, you gave him full permission to fill your hole that has been desperately throbbing around nothingness.  

“Feels so good, Stevie. Keep doing that, please,” you groaned as he fingered you deeper and deeper. 

“Are you close, dove? Are you gonna come? You’re so tight, can barely fit these two fingers,” Steve teased as he kissed your neck to make you moan louder. 

“More — need more.” The grip you had on his hair became tighter as you pushed yourself down on his hand, nearly fucking yourself on his fingers. Feeling so stretched out was a brand new experience. You were never one to masturbate, even when everyone mentioned it was so much fun. Everything from seeing a hot guy at the mall, a rockstar who was shirtless on the cover of a magazine, or the angle of a showerhead accidentally focusing on a sweet spot — none of those experiences ever happened in your life. In truth, nothing ever made you curious enough to even try to see if other things would have a similar effect. But something about this night made you want to experience it all with Steve. 

The man quickened his pace with his fingers, using one hand to thrust into you while the other massaged your clit sweetly. Your moans echoed through the room as you arch your back in ecstasy. The feeling of Steve’s lips on your throat made you want to thrust against his hand harder, but you were too overwhelmed to move your hips in tandem. Instead, you lifted up your shirt and started to squeeze your lonely nipples. 

You aren’t sure what took over — all you knew was that everything felt so good. 

“Fuck, you really do have the most perfect tits,” Steve whispered to himself when he got up from your neck. He felt your movements and thought something was wrong. Instead, he was greeted by the sight of your swollen nipples, eager for some sort of touch. When he saw your fingers squeeze your right nipple, he could not handle it anymore and dove down to suck on them, leaving marks on your smooth skin. 

“Steve, everything you’re doing feels so good,” you moaned. 

“Are you gonna come for me, baby? I know you can do it.” 

And you did. Loudly. Just those words, working in tandem with his fingers and mouth, were more than enough to make you orgasm into oblivion. Steve had two fingers inside of you whilst his thumb was massaging your clit in small circles. You barely had the strength to tell him how good it felt since you were shaking below him in pleasure. All you could do was grasp Steve’s hair as he kissed one nipple of yours to the next. It was your very first orgasm, and you were welcoming it with open arms. 

“So nice —” you whimpered incoherently. 

Steve kissed you, swallowing in your moans of ecstasy. “I’m never gonna get tired of that sound,” he teased as he took out his fingers from inside of you and just massaged your clit as you got down from your high. 

“So much better than reading a book,” you giggled as your body calmed down. 

“Maybe we gotta find you crazier books then,” Steve smiled with you while kissing your soft lips. 

The kiss became deeper as you embraced one another. Your friend found his way on top of you which felt so surreal. Throughout your friendship, you never believed that some of your naughty dreams that you pushed to the side, would ever come true. Steve was having the same thoughts; however, he never pushed those dreams to the side. More likely, he would take care of any hard problem that was in between his legs. But, kissing you only made him throb harder. Especially now that he knows what your pussy felt like on his fingertips, 

“Again — I can take more,” you whispered between kisses. 

“Needy girl, you really want to?” Steve asked, making sure this wasn’t a dream for him now. 

“Mhm, yes, what if we slipped it in?” your hand moved down his body and to the waistband of his pants. Without even stretching the fabric, you looked up at him with sweet eyes. “Would it feel good too? Maybe just the tip?” 

Fuck. 

Steve needed to calm himself down. He was already on the verge of cumming in his pants, watching you orgasm on his sheets. Even now, as the remnants of your arousal covered his fingers, he wondered how it would feel against his hardness. But, Steve couldn’t do that to you now. Especially knowing the fact that it would be your first time. However, the lust that clouded your eyes as you pouted up at him, was convincing him slowly. 

The conflict on Steve’s face was so apparent that you whispered: “oh, we don’t need to—”

“Fuck, I want to,” Steve kissed you sweetly. “Are you sure, baby? Sure that you can take it all?”

“Yes, yes, I promise you that I can,” you smiled up at him and then bit your lips out of a mixture of excitement and nervousness. 

You kissed one another again, not being to stand the time your lips were apart from each other’s. As you did so, Steve brought his hands under your sweater to nearly rip it off of you — leaving you beautifully naked on his plaid sheets. His hands were calling to him, telling him that one day he needed to take a picture of you like this. But, there is going to be another time, surely. Right now, he wanted to satiate your body’s cravings. As you stared up at him and squeezed your thighs together, Steve was truly about to combust. 

“It’s kinda cold,” you giggled as you stared down at your hardened nipples. Then, you sat up slightly to meet his lips again, but not without whispering close to his mouth. “Can I take off your clothes too?” 

With those words, Steve helped you take off his tight shirt and sweatpants. You’ve been teasingly touching it throughout tonight’s escapades; however, seeing his hardness in all its glory, stunned you. It was a lot thicker and longer than you initially believed. In truth, there were countless moments where you had gotten a glimpse of his size. Like the times he invited you to his backyard to swim, and he always seemed to choose tighter swim shorts every week. Or the one time he forgot to bring a towel into the shower so you brought one to him, thinking that he was going to keep the shower curtain atop his body for some modesty; however, when you were on your way out the room, he let go of the plastic curtain a bit too early and you saw a definite outline from the side of your eyes. Every single time, no matter how crazy the situation may be, you felt warm all over your body. This time, however, seeing the way it hung and the precum leaking out of it, you were hypnotized to say the least. 

“One sec, dove,” Steve whispered as he saw that you were about to touch it. You looked to see that he bent his body to reach his nightstand and take out a little clear bottle. 

“What is that?” You asked innocently as you began to stroke him while he wasn’t looking. 

“I-it’s — fuck — it’s lube. We could use a little if you wanted to,” Steve said seriously before bringing a hand to your arousal and massaging your clit sweetly. “Not sure if we will need much,” he teased. 

Steve kissed you again, having you lay down on the bed fully. He thrusted his hardness against your pussy a few times, seeing how you reacted to the feeling. You adored it, mewling every time the head of his cock coincided with your clit. In truth, you both could have been doing this for the rest of the night until you two came; however, you were throbbing around nothing and you craved to feel more stretched out than with Steve’s fingers. 

You broke away from the kiss, eyeing the bottle of lube curiously, before Steve grabbed it and put it in your hands to look at closer. There were times you saw a similar bottle in the drug store and noticed they were next to the condoms and pregnancy tests. You saw that there were big bold letters on the front: ‘for her pleasure,’ which confused you slightly. But, you decided to give it a try anyways — it must be something good, you guessed. 

“Let's use a little, Steve.” 

“Yeah, sure. You want me to put it on?” He asked sweetly as he outstretched his hand. 

“N-no, I wanna try something,” you smiled up at him before putting a dollop of the gel in your right hand. “You’re so big, Stevie. You’re gonna stretch me out so good.” 

Your words were hypnotizing the man above you as you circled your hand over his cock and stroked a few times. And to think that he believed that he was to be taking the lead tonight. 

“F-fuck, dove. Your hands are so soft.” Steve’s moans were making you wetter by the second. You felt your heat throb harshly around nothing, before you moved your hips upwards a little and guided his cock into you. 

Just the tip — you said the words before. 

But, fuck, it felt so nice that you both needed so much more. Steve stayed still above you as he watched the way you move your hips to bounce on his cock from below. Inch by inch, you thrusted yourself upon his lube-covered hardness, causing moans to echo through the room as you got stretched out. 

This was so much better than you both could have ever dreamed of. 

“So hard,” you whispered as you got in the last inch and took all of Steve’s cock in. 

“You’re taking me so well, dove. So fucking wet,” he said as he kissed you and let you get used to the large size. 

“Feels nice.”  

“Tell me if you don’t like it,” Steve whispered as he kissed your lips one last time before moving his mouth down your neck and finally thrusting his hips into you. 

Everything seemed to amplify ten-fold. All of the pleasure, moans, tingling, stretching — it all felt so nice. It was if you two were the only people in the world, with the sky changing from a navy blue to a bright orange. Sweet nothings were whispered into the air as you both wanted to give each other the poetic justice you deserved. 

Steve kissed you every time he heard your moans get louder and louder, wanting to taste your ecstasy. He moved back and forth from kissing your lips, to your neck, to your breasts. It all made you grip his hair tightly no matter where he was focusing on your body. 

“Keep going please, Steve. Everything feels so full,” you screamed incoherently.  

“God, you're throbbing around me. I don’t think I can take it.” The man above you was thrusting into you at an increasingly faster pace, missing the feeling of your warm pussy every time he was even an inch out of you. 

“Steve, I wanna feel you cum,” you whispered before grabbing his hair to have him stop sucking on your nipples in order to look at you. 

He adored how needy you were. “Dirty little mouth, Princess.” 

“Need more — need you to go faster.”

“You know I've been dreaming about this moment time and time again. Who knew all it would take is a dirty novel, isn’t that right?” Steve teased as he reached town and pinched your clit playfully. 

“You’ll never regret driving me to the bookstore from now on,” you giggled in between whimpers.

In truth, you didn’t notice the way you were moving yourself upwards to meet his thrusts. It made Steve bite his lip to stop himself from cumming inside of you prematurely.  “Dove, you're taking me so well — fuck — better than I’ve ever imagined,” he moaned. 

“What have you imagined? What were we doing?” you asked it so innocently, stroking his chest as he continued to thrust into you. 

Where did you learn how to do that? — was what he really wanted to ask. Instead, his mind started to blurt out his fantasies. 

“Sometimes I’d have you like this: fucked out and cock drunk in the middle of the night. Other times it would be me bending you over while you’re studying. Always wearing those tiny skirts with the slit.” 

“For you, I wear it for you. I know the yellow skirt is your favourite, isn’t it?” You teased him now. 

You always noticed the way he would ask you pick things up from the floor, mention that your shoes were untied while he was standing behind you, or the way he would always take off a piece of lint from the back of your skirt — even if you had just used a lint roller on it a few moments before. He loved the way the fabric would sway, and you loved the way he looked at you. It made you feel so warm even on the windiest and coldest of days. 

One thing was for certain, it definitely felt like such a tease in comparison to how your heart and body felt right now.  

“You little minx,” Steve moaned as he thrusted into you faster. 

“Do you think I don’t imagine you ripping my skirt into a million pieces every time you stare at me?” the words fell from your lips breathily while Steve’s pace increased more and more. “You’re not so good at recognizing mirrors in front of you when you’re staring at the back of my tiny skirt, huh?”

“God, you like it when I’m being your perv, naughty girl,” Steve stated.

“Makes me feel nice. Just like this.” 

Just then, Steve made sure that his thrusts and massages on your clit were working in tandem with the way your pussy was throbbing on his cock. He could tell with the way you were arching your back more and closing your eyes, that you were bound to orgasm soon. “You’re so beautiful, dove. So beautiful and taking me so well.”  

“Oh my—” your voice sounded so sweet as you looked up at him with desperation in your eyes. 

“That’s it, let it happen,” Steve grunted, making sure to stop himself from cumming so that he could time it with yours.  

“Faster, please,” you nearly screamed now as everything was hitting you in all the perfect spots. 

Steve took that as his sign to move faster: from his hands to his hips. He loved to see the way you were reaching your climax on his cock — an image he would never get out of his mind for the rest of his life. You were squeezing his hardness tighter and tighter, with your moans getting louder in tandem. And so, Steve angled his cock upwards to try and hit your sweetest spot inside of you. 

And he did. 

Good god, he did. 

“That’s it, that’s my dove.” He chanted over and over as you were shaking beneath him, orgasming harder than you did previously. 

“S-Steve, fuck.” You rarely swear, but to know that he was the one to cause this little word to fall from lips with such grace — it was the final straw for Steve. 

He began to cum inside of you, your pussy milking him with each thrust. All of his arousal was filling you up to the point where it started to spill out and glisten all over your thighs. “So tight,” he whimpered above you. 

For a few moments, you both came down from your highs. With a few thrusts and kisses, you allowed your bodies and heart rates to calm down as one. It was beautiful and so bewitching to experience it all. You weren’t so sure what it would be like now. Being friends for so long meant that you both knew so much about each other. However, now, you two seemed to see a lot of each other too. There was no turning back to what it was before. Not after everything felt so good in this way. 

You both looked into each other’s eyes before kissing sweetly, enveloping each other in one last kiss before breaking apart under the morning sun’s rays. 

“You are so beautiful,” Steve whispered as he moved to lay next to you. 

“So are you,” you smiled while cuddling close to him. 

“Are you alright?” He asked sweetly, kissing your forehead in the process. 

“Yeah, I guess I feel a little sore,” you giggled as you moved your head upwards to feel your lips on his again. 

Steve gasped into the kiss, breaking it apart to get some tissues from his nightstand. “Do you need a bath, some water, or food?” He asked whilst wiping the remnants of his climax away on your thighs. 

“I’m fine, Steve, I promise.” You smiled as he looked at you with the biggest hazel gaze. 

Truthfully, you looked like a goddess glowing next to him with the dawn reflecting on your skin. He wasn’t sure if there were enough words in any dictionary to describe your beauty. Maybe not even from the book you were reading before bed. “How about you sleep for a bit and then when you wake up, I’ll have all your favourite breakfast foods on the kitchen table?” The offer was so tempting coming from Steve’s lips. 

“Hmm, what if I want to help you?” You giggled. You weren’t sure if you wanted to be separate from him for too long. The place in between your thighs was begging for his touch again. “There is a scene in that book where the prince and the lady were eating breakfast and then—”

You stopped speaking when you saw Steve reach behind him to find the novel on his nightstand, before flipping pages in the book to see what you were talking about. “Maybe you should read this story to me another day and I can help you every time you get really excited during a scene,” he winked. 

“Another day?” 

“Yes, for now, we could get started on writing the beginning of our newest story, dove. If you would like to, of course.” Steve whispered the words as he hovered his lips above yours, teasing you with each breath that tickled your skin. 

“I’d really, really love that,” you smiled up at him, bringing your arms around his neck in the process. 

If one thing was for certain after tonight: both of you found comfort and love in each other’s arms — and later on in a few different sections of the book store too. 

-:-:-:-:-

[teaandspite]

The Great Goodreads Diss List (Part 1)

Context: For many years now, I have been collecting funny lines from Goodreads reviews to share with my coworkers. (I do collection development, reader's advisory, and weeding at a public library, so I read a LOT of reviews)

Are some of these, perhaps, rather mean? Yes, but they are also very funny, and come from a place of honest frustration. In the tradition of Bargepole threads and lists everywhere, names and titles have been censored.

"First, I want to say that I understand how hard it is to write a book and how amazing it is when it is actually published. Congrats to the author for that accomplishment. That said--"

"Warning: This review will be lengthy due to pure hatred."

"I found myself feeling really, really annoyed with the world that this book is allowed to exist. We live in a universe where the passenger pigeon is extinct but this book goes along merrily being read by unsuspecting lovers of words and ideas and stories? It just seems like too much, you know?"

"Don't do it. Don't spring the cash for the hardcover. Instead, eat an entire bag of Twizzlers, spend some money you don't have at a high-end department store, look up on Facebook the shady college boyfriend that made you cry, research the current value of your home or 401K and then read all about how the big hedge fund managers are faring during the economic crisis. You'll feel about the same stomach pain if you waste your time reading this book."

"This wretched novel begins with the mugging of an old lady and it appears I may be in the process of repeating that loathsome crime as [author] was 78 when she wrote it. It is not nice to put the boot into such a poor defenseless old creature lying there with only a damehood, a Booker Prize and a few million quid. It’s a nasty job but somebody has to do it."

"I think this is the way dead people would write, if they could."

"I am considering setting up SPABB: Society for the Protection of Accurate Book Blurb. This blurb appears to have been written by someone from the publishers who met [the author] the night before, got very drunk, lost his notes and then constructed something in a fug of hangover the next morning."

"I congratulate [the author] on the early half of his book, which was thoroughly fun and made me laugh and think. I congratulate [the author] on the second half of his book, for finishing it. It reads like that was difficult."

"…a woman whose taste in contemporary literature has roughly the same batting average as a pitcher in the National League."

"The author is a pompous windbag."

"Recommends it for: No one. Recommended to me by: A friend who apparently wished to cause me great suffering."

"Makes me wonder: is it possible to obtain similes at a volume discount?"

"The repeated phrases made me want to mail a thesaurus to the author."

"I'm disappointed in myself for finishing this book."

"if the author described [character's] eyes as "obsidian" one more time I was tempted to write her and ask if her thesaurus broke."

"They say that an infinite number of monkeys with an infinite number of typewriters would, if given infinite time, eventually produce the complete works of William Shakespeare. [This book], on the other hand, would probably take the average monkey just under two hours."

"I can't imagine what the author had to do to get this nadir of Western literature printed on innocent trees, but he does seem to know a LOT about being well-connected in New York."

"This book is so bad it is almost worth reading just to make you appreciate the other books you are reading."

"Reads like it was written by a brilliant author, the night before it was due."

"raises interesting questions, like: can a book be so bad as to constitute an act of terrorism"

"has this author ever spoken to a human woman"

"This acorn has fallen so far from the tree that it can’t even see the forest."

"I’m guessing they are touted as ‘beach reads’ because no one will care if they get dropped into the ocean."

"This book begins with all the energy of a hand vacuum near the end of its battery life, and the pace doesn't quicken much from there."

"At least everybody’s eyes stayed the same color this time around.”

Part 2

[housewilson]

A MASTERLIST OF ALL THE BOOKS I COULD FIND IN TIM'S BOOKSHELVES

As someone who basically sees Tim Laughlin as my own version of Jesus Christ (I kind of wish I was lying but I have a 'beyond measure' tattoo branding my skin so perhaps I'm entirely serious), I simply needed to know what was on those shelves of his. And this was a hard task to achieve, believe me... but I got much farther than I initially thought I would.

(I've got so much to say about all of these books and how they might string together to create a deeper understanding of Tim as a character but I won't go into it here... maybe in a future post or video essay, who knows).

If you wish to help a girl out and attempt to figure out any of the other books I simply can not crack no matter how I look at the screenshots and mess with the adjustments... here's a folder full of 2k sized screenshots of those shelves.

Before I list the books one by one, I want to make a couple observations:

1) Almost all of the books I was able to pinpoint are non-fiction. The ones that aren't are children's books.

2) Topically, we see an interdisciplinary interest in:

History: from a book on a king in 4BC, to a survey of landholding in England in the 11th century.

Somewhat current historical events: books on World War I and II.

Western Philosophers: specially from the 16th to the 18th century.

Aesthetics: there's at least 2 books on the subject matter, but I couldn't find the second one, sadly.

Spirituality: not only christian/catholic; some of these books touch on Eastern practices such as Buddhism and Hinduism.

Fairy tales / children's books.

Psychology: specially in regards to mysticism and sexuality.

Science and scientific discovery/research.

3) A lot of the history, current events, and spirituality books are autobiographies/memoirs.

4) A lot of books (specially those on sciences and philosophy) tend to be more so anthologies or overviews on a subject matter rather than a book written by one specific author on one very concrete topic.

Overall, this all reflects very well an idea Jonathan Bailey himself expressed in a brilliant interview you can watch here if you haven't yet:

"Tim has buddhist flags in his 1980s flat in San Francisco, he has crystals, he is someone who is always seeking other ways to understand human experience. Which is probably tiring for him. Throughout the decades, he sort of appears as completely different people. At the crux of it there's this extreme grinding, contrasting, aggressive duality between feeling lovable and not feeling lovable. There's such shame in Tim. But it's the push and the pull which keeps him alive.”

This desire to understand human psychology, spirituality, and the ways of the universe through as many diverse lenses as possible, as well as a predilection for non-fiction, expresses very much to me that insatiable thirst for truth that defines his character so strongly.

OKAY, THAT BEING SAID. Here's the list in chronological order of publication.

PS. if you decided to click on any of the following titles it'd definitely not take you to a google drive link of the pdf file where you could download and read these books for yourself. Because that would be illegal and wrong.

Journeys through Bookland by Charles H. Sylvester (1901?) (1922 Edition)

I don't know which specific volume he owns, sorry, I tried my best but the number is not discernible (hell, the title barely is). If anyone wants the download link to these hmu because I'm not about to individually download all 10 right now.

10 volumes of poems, myths, Bible stories, fairy tales, and excerpts from children's novels, as well as a guide to the series. It has been lauded as ‘a new and original plan for reading, applied to the world’s best literature for children.’

Pilgrimage by Graham Seton Hutchison (1936)

This book provides a view of the battlefields of WW I through the eyes of the average fighting man. 

One curious thing about this book is that it's author, a British First World War army officer and military theorist, went on to become a fascist activist later in his life. Straight from Wikipedia:

"Seton Hutchison became a celebrated figure in military circles for his tactical innovations during the First World War but would later become associated with a series of fringe fascist movements which failed to capture much support even by the standards of the far right in Britain in the interbellum period." He made a contribution to First World War fiction with his espionage novel, The W Plan."

The Seven Storey Mountain by Thomas Merton (1948) 

The Seven Storey Mountain tells of the growing restlessness of a brilliant and passionate young man, who at the age of twenty-six, takes vows in one of the most demanding Catholic orders—the Trappist monks. At the Abbey of Gethsemani, "the four walls of my new freedom," Thomas Merton struggles to withdraw from the world, but only after he has fully immersed himself in it. At the abbey, he wrote this extraordinary testament, a unique spiritual autobiography that has been recognized as one of the most influential religious works of our time. Translated into more than twenty languages, it has touched millions of lives.

This book requires no introduction. It's the one he keeps the Fire Island's postcard in and the one we see him re-reading in episode 8 after Hawk brings it to the hospital with him at the end of episode 7.

Just a little detail I noticed:

Apparently he liked the book so much he visited Gethsemani, which was the home of its author all the way up till 1968.

For all we know, he might have even met its author!

Sexual Behavior in the Human Male by Alfred Charles Kinsey, Wardell B. Pomeroy (1948)

When published in 1948 this volume encountered a storm of condemnation and acclaim. It is, however, a milestone on the path toward a scientific approach to the understanding of human sexual behavior. Dr. Alfred C. Kinsey and his fellow researchers sought to accumulate an objective body of facts regarding sex. They employed first hand interviews to gather this data. This volume is based upon histories of approximately 5,300 males which were collected during a fifteen year period. This text describes the methodology, sampling, coding, interviewing, statistical analyses, and then examines factors and sources of sexual outlet.

Yes, Charles Kinsey is indeed behind the Kinsey scale that has done so much for the LGBTQ+ community.

Their Finest Hour (1949), The Grand Alliance (1950), and Closing the Ring (1951) by Winston Churchill

Winston Churchill's six-volume history of the cataclysm that swept the world remains the definitive history of the Second World War. Lucid, dramatic, remarkable both for its breadth and sweep and for its sense of personal involvement, it is universally acknowledged as a magnificent reconstruction and is an enduring, compelling work that led to his being awarded the Nobel Prize for literature in 1953. 

The European Philosophers from Descartes to Nietzsche by Monroe C. Beardsley (1960)

In so far as we reflect upon ourselves and our world, and what we are doing in it, says the editor of this anthology, we are all philosophers. And therefore we are very much concerned with what the twelve men represented in this book--the major philosophers on the Continent of Europe--have to say to us, to help us build our own philosophy, to think things out in our own way. For the issues that we face today are partly determined by the work of thinkers of earlier generations, and no other time is more important to the development of Western thought than is the 250-year period covered by this anthology. Monroe. C. Beardsley, Professor of Philosophy at Swarthmore College, has chosen major works, or large selections from them, by each man, with supplementary passages to amplify or clarify important points. These include: Descartes - Discourse on Method (Descartes), Thoughts (Pascal), The Nature of Evil (Spinoza), The Relation Between Soul and Body (Leibniz), The Social Construct (Rousseau), Critique of Pure Reason (Kant), The Vocation of Man (Fichte), Introducciton to the Philosophy of History (Hegel), The World as Will and Idea (Schopenhauer), A General View of Positivism (Comte), The Analysis of Sensations and the Relation of the Physical to the Psychical (Mach), Beyond Good and Evil (Nietzsche).

The New Intelligent Man's Guide to Science by Isaac Asimov (1965)

Asimov tells the stories behind the science: the men and women who made the important discoveries and how they did it. Ranging from Galilei, Achimedes, Newton and Einstein, he takes the most complex concepts and explains it in such a way that a first-time reader on the subject feels confident on his/her understanding. Assists today's readers in keeping abreast of all recent discoveries and advances in physics, the biological sciences, astronomy, computer technology, artificial intelligence, robotics, and other sciences.

The Heavenly City of the 18th Philosophers by Carl L. Becker (1932) (1962 reprint)

Here a distinguished American historian challenges the belief that the eighteenth century was essentially modern in its temper. In crystalline prose Carl Becker demonstrates that the period commonly described as the Age of Reason was, in fact, very far from that; that Voltaire, Hume, Diderot, and Locke were living in a medieval world, and that these philosophers “demolished the Heavenly City of St. Augustine only to rebuild it with more up-to-date materials.” In a new foreword, Johnson Kent Wright looks at the book’s continuing relevance within the context of current discussion about the Enlightenment.

I find the particular choice of adding this book very curious and on brand, since it explores the idea that philosophers of the Enlightenment very much resembled religious dogma/faith in their structure and purpose. Just... A+ of the props department to not just add any kind of book on philosophy anthology.

Herod The Great by Michael Grant (1971)

The Herod of popular tradition is the tyrannical King of Judaea who ordered the Massacre of the Innocents and died a terrible death in 4 BC as the judgment of God. But this biography paints a much more complex picture of this contemporary of Mark Antony, Cleopatra, and the Emperor Augustus. Herod devoted his life to the task of keeping the Jews prosperous and racially intact. To judge by the two disastrous Jewish rebellions that occurred within a hundred and fifty years of his death -- those the Jews called the First and Second Roman Wars -- he was not, in the long run, completely successful. For forty years Herod walked the most precarious of political tightropes. For he had to be enough of a Jew to retain control of his Jewish subjects, and enough of a pro-Roman to preserve the confidence of Rome, within whose territory his kingdom fell. For more than a quarter of a century he was one of the chief bulwarks of Augustus' empire in the east. He made Judaea a large and prosperous country. He founded cities and built public works on a scale never seen before: of these, recently excavated Masada is a spectacular example. And he did all this in spite of a continuous undercurrent of protest and underground resistance. The numerous illustrations presents portraits and coins, buildings and articles of everyday use, landscapes and fortresses, and subsequent generations' interpretations of the more famous events, actual and mythical, of Herod's career.

Readings in the Philosophy of Art and Aesthetics compiled by Milton Charles Nahm (1975)

A college level comprehensive anthology of essays written on the arts and the field of aesthetic philosophy.

The Mustard Seed: Discourses on the Sayings of Jesus Taken from the Gospel According to Thomas by Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh (1975)

This timely book explores the wisdom of the Gnostic Jesus, who challenges our preconceptions about the world and ourselves. Based on the Gospel of Thomas, the book recounts the missing years in Jesus’ life and his time in Egypt and India, learning from Egyptian secret societies, then Buddhist schools, then Hindu Vedanta. Each of Jesus' original sayings is the "seed" for a chapter of the book; each examines one aspect of life — birth, death, love, fear, anger, and more — counterpointed by Osho’s penetrating comments and responses to questions from his audience.

(You don't know how fulfilling it was to find some of these books and just sit there like "oh my god, yessss, he'd SO read that".)

A Third Testament by Malcolm Muggeridge (1976)

A modern pilgrim explores the spiritual wanderings of Augustine, Pascal, Blake, Kierkegaard, Dostoevsky, Tolstoy, and Bonhoeffer. A Third Testament brings to life seven men whose names are familiar enough, but whose iconoclastic spiritual wanderings make for unforgettable reading. Muggeridge's concise biographies are an accessible and manageable introduction to these spiritual giants who carried on the testament to the reality of God begun in the Old and New Testaments. - St. Augustine, a headstrong young hedonist and speechwriter who turned his back on money and prestige in order to serve Christ - Blaise Pascal, a brilliant mathematician who pursued scientific knowledge but warned people against thinking they could live without God - William Blake, a magnificent artist-poet who pled passionately for the life of the spirit and warned of the blight that materialism would usher in - Soren Kierkegaard, a renegade philosopher who spent most of his life at odds with the church, and insisted that every person must find his own way to God - Fyodor Dostoevsky, a debt-ridden writer and sometime prisoner who found, in the midst of squalor and political turmoil, the still small voice of God - Leo Tolstoy, a grand old novelist who swung between idealism and depression, loneliness and fame and a duel awareness of his sinfulness and God s grace - Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a pastor whose writings and agonized involvement in a plot to kill Hitler cost him his life, but continue to inspire millions

Portraits: The photography of Carl Van Vechten (1978)

Can't find a file but you can borrow it from archive.com in the link provided.

During his career as a photographer, Carl Van Vechten’s subjects, many of whom were his friends and social acquaintances, included dancers, actors, writers, artists, activists, singers, costumiers, photographers, social critics, educators, journalists, and aesthetes. [...] As a promoter of literary talent and a critic of dance, theater, and opera, Carl Van Vechten was as interested in the cultural margin as he was in the day’s most acclaimed and successful people. His diverse subjects give a sense of both Carl Van Vechten’s interests and his considerable role in defining the cultural landscape of the twentieth century; among his many sitters one finds the leading lights of the Harlem Renaissance, the premier actors and writers of the American stage, the world’s greatest opera stars and ballerinas, the most important and influential writers of the day, among many others.

Report of the Shroud of Turin by John H Heller (1983)

Heller, while a man of science, was nevertheless a devout man (Southern Baptist). He viewed his task concerning The Shroud with great scepticism; there have been far too many hoaxes in the world of religion. The book describes in great detail the events leading up to the team's conviction that the Shroud was genuine; last - not least - being Heller and Adler's verification of "heme" (blood) and the inexplicable "burned image" of the crucified man. Although carbon dating indicates that the image is not 2000 years old and that the cloth is from the Middle Ages, there is not enough evidence to disprove Heller's assertion that the Shroud is indeed genuine.

Context for those who may not know (though I doubt it's necessary): The shroud of Turin "is a length of linen cloth that bears a faint image of the front and back of a man. It has been venerated for centuries, especially by members of the Catholic Church, as the actual burial shroud used to wrap the body of Jesus of Nazareth after his crucifixion, and upon which Jesus's bodily image is miraculously imprinted."

It is a very controversial subject matter and I definitely don't know that from going to an Opus Dei school since the day I was born till the day I graduated high school.

Mysticism, Psychology and Oedipus by Israel Regardie (1985)

I've tried my hardest but despite many Israel Regardie books being on the world wide web, I can't find a copy of this specific one.

Mysticism, Psychology and Oedipus, from the Small Gems series is one of these mysterious alchemys which Regardie and Spiegelman crafted for the serious student of mysticism. Mysticism, Psychology and Oedipus by Dr. Israel Regardie and his friend, world renowned Jungian Psychologist, J. Marvin Spiegelman, Ph.D. was created to reach the serious student at the intersecting paths of magic, mysticism and psychology. While each area of study overlaps they also maintain their own individual paths of truth. One of Regardie’s greatest gifts was his rare ability to combine these difficult and diverse subjects and make them understandable.

Domesday Book Through Nine Centuries by Elizabeth M. Hallam (1986)

In 1086 a great survey of landholding in England was carried out on the orders of William the Conqueror, and its results were recorded in the two volumes, which, within less than a century, were to acquire the name of Domesday, or the Book of Judgment 'because its decisions, like those of the last Judgment, are unalterable'. This detailed survey of the kingdom, unprecedented at that time in its scope, gives us an extraordinarily vivid impression of the life of the eleventh century.

The following two are a fuck up on the props department part because they were published after 1987 but we'll forgive them because they were not expecting for me to do all this to figure out the titles of these books, I'm sure:

The One Who Set Out to Study Fear by Peter Redgrove (1989)

This book barely exists physically, rest assured it does not exist online... LOL.

The author of The Wise Wound presents here a re-telling of Grimm's famous fairy tales, written in a manner and spirit more suited to the present day. Each story is rooted in the original, but cast in an energetic style that is both disrespectful and humorous. 

Essential Papers on Masochism by Margaret Ann Fitzpatrick Hanly (1995)

The contested psychoanalytic concept of masochism has served to open up pathways into less-explored regions of the human mind and behavior. Here, rituals of pain and sexual abusiveness prevail, and sometimes gruesome details of unconscious fantasies are constructed out of psychological pain, desperate need, and sexually excited, self- destructive violence. In this significant addition to the "Essential Papers in Psychoanalysis" series, Margaret Ann Fitzpatrick Hanly presents an anthology of the most outstanding writings in the psychoanalytic study of masochism. In bringing these essays together, Dr. Fitzpatrick Hanly expertly combines classic and contemporary theories by the most respected scholars in the field to create a varied and integrated volume. This collection features papers by S. Nacht, R. Loewenstein, Victor Smirnoff, Sigmund Freud, Jacques Laplanche, Robert Bak, Leonard Shengold, K. Novick, J. Novick, S. Coen, Margaret Brenman, Esther Menaker, S. Lorand, M. Balint, Bernhard Berliner, Charles Brenner, Helene Deutsch, Annie Reich, Marie Bonaparte, Jessica Benjamin, S.L. Olinick, Arnold Modell, Betty Joseph, and Janine Chasseguet-Smirgel.

Let's not forget another book we know has been present in his shelves at some point:

Look Homeward, Angel by Thomas Wolfe (1929)

It is Wolfe's first novel, and is considered a highly autobiographical American coming-of-age story. The character of Eugene Gant is generally believed to be a depiction of Wolfe himself. The novel briefly recounts Eugene's father's early life, but primarily covers the span of time from Eugene's birth in 1900 to his definitive departure from home at the age of 19. The setting is a fictionalization of his home town of Asheville, North Carolina, called Altamont in the novel.

And Ron Nyswaner mentioned in a podcast (might be this one? I'm not sure) that he scrapped from the script a line where Tim recommends this poem at some point:

He specially emphasized the line "If equal affection cannot be, Let the more loving one be me".

And lastly, if anyone wanted to know:

His copy of the bible is the Revised Standard Version by Thomas Nelson from either 1952 or 1953.

Because why the hell not figure out what specific translation of the holy bible a fictional character was basing his beliefs on — as if the set designers cared nearly as much as I do.

[jennay]

Noah

An: My first Noah fic I hope you like it. Let me know what you think 💜 I always get nervous writing new people for whatever reason!

Noah Sebastian x reader

No warnings just fluff

Words: 2kish

Noah Master List

How did this happen?

You didn't mean to fall in love with Noah.

He was just a friend, nothing more. At least, that's what you thought.

You met Noah at a friend's birthday party five years ago. He was charming and handsome, but you didn't feel any sparks. He had a warm smile and a friendly handshake, but nothing that made your heart skip a beat. Like you, he was into music and photography, but so were many others. You exchanged numbers and stayed in touch as friends, but nothing more.

That changed when he asked you to look after his apartment and pets while he was on tour. You agreed to help him, thinking living in his place in a different city and state would be fun.

You didn't know that it would also bring you closer to him.

His apartment was cozy and colorful, with posters, books, and instruments. It smelled like coffee and vanilla, his favorite scents.

It felt like home, even though it wasn't yours. You loved spending time there, playing with his dog, and you read some of the books that stayed on his shelf. They looked like they needed some love, and you couldn't stand seeing the books covered in dust, alone and uncared for.

Noah would call you almost every night to check on his pup, leading to more extended conversations. He would tell you about his adventures on the road, the places he visited, and the people he met. He would ask about your day, work, and hobbies. He'd make you laugh with his jokes and stories.

"You're so fuckin cool, you know that?" He said one night.

You felt your cheeks flush. "No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are. You're doing me a huge favor, and I don't know how to thank you enough."

"You don't have to thank me."

You heard him sigh on the other end of the line. "Well, I owe you dinner or drinks, something like that, when I’m back in town."

You felt your heart race. "I could never say no to free drinks and dinner."

You realized that you had more in common than you thought. You shared the same sense of humor, values, and dreams. You also discovered new sides of him that you never knew before. He was passionate and creative but also humble and kind. He was generous and thoughtful but playful and adventurous.

He became everything you wanted in a partner.

But he was your friend.

He often told you how much he appreciated and trusted your friendship. He had also told you how hard it was for him to trust women after all the pain he had gone through. He had been betrayed and hurt by his ex-girlfriends, who had spread lies and rumors about him. They had tried to use him for fame and money, not caring about his feelings.

You were different from them. You were a journalist, but you never wrote anything wrong about him. You never exploited his secrets or his scandals. You never tried to get a scoop or a headline out of him. You respected his privacy and his dignity. You cared about him as a person, not as a celebrity.

You wanted to be the one who could heal his wounds, make him happy, and love him like no one else.

You wanted to be the one who could make him see that not all women were the same.

You wanted to be the one who could make him fall in love again.

You sure as hell didn't know if he saw you as more than a friend.

You were going to see him today at a hidden bar that only a few knew about. It was a place where he could be himself, away from the public's prying eyes. Noah loved his music and fans, but he was a private person. He needed his privacy, and you respected that.

You knew he would probably bring one of his bandmates with him. They were his support system, and though you sometimes wished he would come alone, you understood. That's why you often invited Allie along. She was your best friend and had a crush on Nicholas. Nicholas was smitten with her, too, and he would chase her around like a lovesick puppy, leaving you and Noah some time to yourselves.

You didn't go all out with your appearance, just a touch of makeup and a casual outfit. It wasn't your style, and you knew Allie would tease you if you showed up too fancy.

She'd been nagging you to confess your feelings to Noah; she even blurted it out to him once when she was drunk, but you brushed it off with a nervous laugh and told her to drop it.

You enter the bar, feeling the cool air hit your face. You head straight to the counter, order your favorite beer, and leave your debit card with the bartender.

You scan the room, looking for your friends. They stand out from the crowd. You see a tall man and a petite blonde girl, with Nicholas trailing behind them like a loyal dog. Your eyes land on Noah holding his cue stick and aiming at the table. He is smiling at something he said to Nicholas, but you can't make out his words over the loud music.

You grab your drink and walk towards them. Allie spots you first and runs towards you, wrapping you in a tight hug.

She slurs some words in your ear. "Finally!" She yells, her breath reeking of alcohol. "These two are no fun. They're too good at pool, and I can't beat them. So now they are playing each other, and I'm just watching." She giggles.

You escape from her hug and follow her to the table, putting down your drink and taking off your sweater. "Well, it's not a fair game when Noah's arms are longer than the fucking table." You joke.

"I heard that!" Noah shouts from across the table, waving his pool stick at you.

You shrug your shoulders, "It's the truth!"

"Who wants to play next?" Nicholas asks as he walks over to you and Allie. "Allie owes me a shot, and I'm done with him." He laughs, pointing at Noah.

"Are you giving up?" Noah asks as he joins the three of you. "I don't blame you. You suck and everything." He teases.

You smile up at him and open your arms to hug him. "I love being ignored." You say sarcastically, making Allie snort.

He hugs you tightly and rocks you back and forth slowly, "Sorry, my precious little angel," He mocks, "I was busy kicking ass."

Nicholas hands you his cue stick and grabs Allie by the arm, dragging her to the bar. "Good luck!" He yells back at you.

"Ok, Noah." You laugh, trying to escape his grip, "You can let go now."

He looks at you with a fake hurt expression, "But I thought we were having a moment."

You roll your eyes, "Yeah, a moment of suffocation."

He grins and releases you, "Fine, fine. Let's play then. Loser buys the next round."

You nod, "Deal. But don't cry when I beat you." He winks, "We'll see about that."

You and Noah start playing pool, taking turns to hit the balls. You're both good at the game but like to distract each other with jokes and taunts. You laugh and tease each other, enjoying the friendly competition.

You notice he's getting closer to you, leaning over your shoulder to show you how to aim better, brushing his hand against your arm when he passes the cue stick, whispering in your ear when he makes a shot. You feel a surge of heat in your body, wondering if he is flirting with you or just being playful.

You decide to play along, hoping he will make a move. You touch his chest when you congratulate him on a good shot, look into his eyes when you talk to him, and bite your lip when you miss a shot.

You see him react to your signals, his eyes darkening, his breath quickening, his smile widening.

You’re both down to the last ball, the black eight. It's his turn, and he has a clear shot. He looks at you and says, "If I make this, I win. And if I win, I get to ask you something."

You raise your eyebrows, curious and nervous. "I have to buy you a drink, and you get to ask me something?" You ask. "That doesn't seem very fair."

He shakes his head, "It's fair, you'll see." He bends over the table and aims at the ball. He hits it with precision and power, sending it into the corner pocket.

He straightens up and pumps his fist in the air. "Got it!" He exclaims. He turns to you and grabs your hand, pulling you close. "I win!"

You smile and nod, "Yes, you do."

He looks into your eyes and says, "And now I get to ask you something."

You swallow hard, feeling his breath on your face. "What do you want to ask me?"

He leans in and whispers in your ear, "Can I kiss you?"

"Are you drunk?" You ask, taken back by his question, "You don't want to kiss me. That's the alcohol talking. Are you drunk?"

He chuckles, "No, I'm not drunk, and I want to kiss you. Am I reading signals wrong? I thought that's what you wanted..." He nervously speaks, his dark brown eyes closely watching you, waiting for a response. Did he overstep your boundaries?

In a whirlwind of nervous energy, you feel your heart race as you stare at him. What are you waiting for? Isn't this what you wanted?

You softly nod your head, "Ok," You whisper.

You feel everything else fade away, and the only thing that matters at that moment is him. As your lips get closer, the air gets thicker with anticipation, your hearts beating as one. The world pauses, waiting for this moment. With a gentle move, he lowers his head, and a wave of bliss washes over you when you feel his lips press to yours. You feel warmth as his hands caress your face, and he deepens the kiss. Your arms wrap around his neck tightly, not letting him go.

You hope this is real, not some cruel dream playing with your mind.

When you finally pull away, your eyes meet again, breathless and smiling like two people who have just found a hidden treasure. You see the love and happiness in his eyes, reflecting your own.

“About damn time!” Nicholas shouts from behind you, breaking the spell. You laugh, feeling a bit shy but also proud of what you have done.

You lean in and give Noah another kiss, softer and sweeter than the first one, just to make sure it's real.

You didn't mean to fall in love with Noah. But you did, and it changed everything.

[just7frogsinapeoplesuit]

Finished reading Harrow the Ninth last week! It was a lot smoother than the previous book, and another fun read. Thoughts (spoiler free):

- This may be the only book I've ever read where 2nd person narration didn't make me want to pull my hair out, because it's the only time I've seen it done for a clear reason! The narration switching between chapters helps set a discordant tone and creates mystery in a unique way, and the bit where it switches to first person for just a few words 3/4 of the way through the book hits like a truck.

- Continuing to love how puzzley this series is. Piecing together stories from scraps is soo fun and satisfying. The pacing at which we receive information is (again) perfect and (again) we never get the entire picture so there's always something extra during a reveal.

- I felt this in Gideon but it's more relevant now: 10,000 years is way too long a timescale for the setting and characters, and the absurdity of it makes it feel less real. It should be 1,000 years maximum given how little it seems humanity has evolved since the resurrection, and nearly every length of time stated by a lyctor should be about 1/10 of what it is. The single reason I would accept for it really being 10k years is if it's a setup for an "over 9000" joke which, to be fair, is extremely plausible.

- Every new character has a name that's 3 syllables or less! I could actually remember who everyone was!

- It's even clearer in this book how unique and complex the characters' relationships are. I don't often encounter series where I genuinely couldn't give a concise answer for how anyone feels about anyone else. I'm so glad there's more.

- The one alien planet with substantial life we encounter is almost exactly like earth, down to Harrow assuming there are mammals and annelids. Unless these planets were purposely set up with Earth flora/fauna (despite being supposedly almost inaccessible) this feels like a cop-out to not have to make up alien biology and frankly it was disappointing. Really hoping this was done for a reason.

- Having a narrator we know is unreliable adds so much depth to the mystery of the story, especially the 3rd person segments. I said this before but I really wish more people wrote from the perspective of deeply flawed or ignorant characters.

- The visuals are detailed and often stunning, but sometimes they're just redundant. We do not need to be reminded what the lyctor robes look like every time someone is wearing one, I am going to assume they are still the same two pages later. The constant focus on the color of people's eyes could be considered an exception since it's a very plot-relevant detail, but even that was a little much at times.

- The lyctors and God read like an office drama where everyone involved is an objectively shitty person and I enjoyed every moment of it.

- I thought I was prepared to encounter none pizza with left beef. I was not prepared to encounter none pizza with left beef.

- The prose has been smoothed out a lot. The voice feels consistent even across chapters (and even near the end!), and the number of unnecessarily long and/or obscure words is slightly less but still got irritating at times. Muir definitely has a handful of favorites she overuses, namely:

Tessellate: Fair for the setting but unnecessary when telling us the wallpaper has a pattern

Scintillating: We see synonyms for this maybe once, it's used every single time something sparkles or is shiny

Deliquesce: Again great for the setting, but again it is used every single time something is melty (and a few times metaphorically). She even uses it to describe a soggy biscuit once. I don't know how to express just how much biscuits cannot deliquesce without going on an unhinged rant about the mechanics of rot.

- There are also still instances of clear thesaurus overuse, such as fog being described as "lubricious". I am assuming this was because in context it's supposed to be contrasting cold weather and that's a listed antonym for "frigid" but explicitly in a metaphorical sense. Did Muir know she was telling us the fog was horny? I want to believe there was some hidden joke but I couldn't find one, and it's far from the only time a college-level vocab word is used instead of a simpler synonym in a context that just doesn't quite work (because it adds connotations that don't make sense).

- On the other end of vocab things, there are a few obscure words she uses only once that are so vividly relevant to the setting it's almost weird they never come back. "Flense", for example, is probably the most necromancy-friendly 19th century word imaginable and using it metaphorically is a brilliant choice, but Muir has given priority to other less grotesque (but higher in syllable count) 19th century words and it only appears a single time. Yes, my irritation is showing. Unnecessary syllables irritate me.

- None pizza with left beef aside, my personal favorite meme was the Miette reference, but "wake me up inside" was a close second.

- Overall, similar in enjoyment to Gideon but easier to read. Excited to start Nona when I get the chance!

(Gideon the Ninth review here)

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Mystery Letter

Characters: Umbrella Academy x Reader

Warnings: Slight language

Summary: An odd letter prompts you to Hotel Obsidian to meet with familiar faces.

Deep into the family meeting, the Umbrella Academy found their doomed conversation about the end of the world and their dead mothers interrupted when a familiar face marched over to their huddle at the bar.

Five was the first to notice your presence and stopped speaking which prompted the rest of the group turning their heads towards you, all fairly surprised to see you again.

You held up a hand-scrawled letter and waved it around before setting it on the bench.

“Help. Urgent. Obsidian. Help. Bring blueberry soda.” You repeated from the words that were scribbled unintelligibly on the paper. Reaching into your bag, you pulled out a box of blueberry soda and without turning, handed it to Klaus knowing that he was the only one to make the unusual request. Number Four took it with the eagerness of a child and sat on his chair quietly drinking.

Sighing, you shrugged. “Care to explain?”

Five, swapping his drink to his right hand, pointed with his left. “You first. The briefcase should have brought us back together but you weren’t with us. Why?”

“How should I know? I’m not a time-traveller. I was spit out on the porch of the Umbrella Academy. Then I saw you guys getting your asses handed to you and I bounced.”

Diego frowned. “You left us there?”

“I don’t have powers and I’m not an Umbrella. I would have been killed two seconds in, Diego.”

There were some quick hums of agreement which made you squint at them. “Okay, obviously not two seconds. I am capable of lasting longer than that in a fight.”

The hums went from agreement to skeptics and you wished your could pounce on them to prove a point but there was clearly something else at play so you chose to keep it to yourself.

Luther picked up the paper and scanned the few words as he could right before it was snatched from his hold by his brother. Five read the very same and shook his head, “Well, here’s the conundrum - none of us wrote this letter to you.”

You frowned. “No way. There was a request for blueberry soda and only Klaus makes that request.”

Handing the slip of paper back to you, Five sighed. “Maybe. But it’s certainly not any of our handwriting so we’ll just add that to the list of mysteries on our plate in less than twenty-four hours.”

Looking around, you noticed the same expression of concern on their faces. “What other mystery is there?”

Five pulled out a shot glass, slid it across the table to your hand and poured you a drink. “The Grandfather Paradox.”

Shit. You had read about the paradox in the Reginald Hargreeves’ library when you’d sneak inside the Academy to play as kids.

Throwing your head back, you downed the shot and let the liquid burn your throat.

“How?” You asked.

Five sighed. “Some idiot killed our mothers.”

Klaus bumped into your shoulder as he brought the book of photos. Setting it in front of you, he pointed at the black and white image of an Amish woman.

“That’s my mom.” He said proudly.

You smiled and peered at the image, sending him a curious hum as you noticed their resemblance. “You have her eyes.”

Klaus gave you a sigh of love and placed his hands over his heart. Then he widened them and latched onto you with a hug.

Masterlist here

[strangebiology]

Free Resources I Made for Nonfiction Book Writers - $$$

If you're writing a nonfiction, non-memoir book, you're welcome to join my free monthly video chat group Authors of Nonfiction Books in Progress (ANBIP.) If you join you'll get the recap emails and the invites to meetings, but if you don't like meetings, then just enjoy the emails. Note that it's sort of a professional group so we talk about book writing as more of a job than some universal higher calling or whatever.

Through that, I've had a few people ask me for some of the following documents in this journey, so I decided, why not just make a copy for sharing so that anyone can find them, instead of just people who email me? Feel free to use these as samples, share them, whatever. But first:

What I wish I had known before the book: While I'm here, before you start your book proposal, I learned too late that you can get paid $80,000 to write one at a journalism fellowship! People do that at the Knight Science Journalism Fellowship, The Scripps Fellowship at the Center for Environmental Journalism, and probably the other Knight Journalism fellowships that I haven't looked into. So, keep your ears open for fellowships if you're thinking of starting a nonfiction book proposal.

To the resources...

Results from my agent search Note: most people suggest Publisher's Marketplace, so, even though I didn't like my results from looking there, there is surely a reason everyone else does.

My Book Proposal & how I contacted the agent Result: contract with MIT Press to write a book about dead animals and $50,000 advance.

My Proposal for the Sloan Grant Result: I got $56,053 for the book Carcass. Also, at least two other people in my group got the grant, and one mentioned that she never would have known about it if it weren't for ANBIP, nor would she have applied!

List of suggested grants to apply to Note: most of these book grants--and most legit ones in the world--require a traditional contract. I find a lot of "prizes" for people without trad contracts are not grants at all, but an effort to get you to think you "won" what is, in effect, a contract. That's fine if the contract is fine, but don't let them stroke your ego with the words "you won" if you think you could get a better contract elsewhere. A grant is more like free money.

I also got $500 and some free resources--and miiiiight get some more money in the future?--from a program called Investing in Wyoming's Creative Economy, so, maybe your state has something similar. IWCE is brand new (started in 2023) so we'll see if it even continues on. MANY funding opportunities only exist for a few years before they run out.

My contract with my fact-checker

How I found Science Advisors & how I described their task Note: I really just made this up, as with the contract with the fact-checker. I'm just some person and I'm only giving these to you because I couldn't find anyone else's that may have been done better! Make a copy, read through it carefully, and make all the changes you need to yours. Or if you already have a better one to look to, send it to me and LMK if I can send it to my colleagues at ANBIP!

Spreadsheet National Park Artists in Residences Applications Note: I have never got any of these, and most don't pay or work well for writers, TBH. But I know a science writer who did get one. Also, I only included the ones I liked in this spreadsheet and left out the historic parks. Here's a map of more and the National Park Arts Foundation. I only apply to free ones because I noticed that one residency said they got 800 applications and the fee was $120, which, mathematically, is like paying $96,000 to do it (and that one paid $4,000 to the winner.) Also: state parks and BLM land have Artist in Residence programs!

Copy of #PublishingPaidMe spreadsheet (I didn't make this, and I don't recommend making graphics or pivot tables from this as some of the numbers are def wrong)

Book Progress thermometer

That's all for now! If you found this helpful, just pay it forward by being open with your experience for the next people who ask you.

PS. My next task is finding events to hire me to do talks about the topic of my book, which is dead animals. I know some authors make plenty of money on speaker fees after their book is launched! But I'm struggling to find events/places to speak because I mostly only want to go places where I am paid, but I also worry about a conflict of interest if I'm paid by organizations I've covered--or even, orgs that promote or protest anything that I've covered in general! I don't want to be a PETA-funded journalist or a Safari Club International-funded journalist either. If you have experience with setting up a book tour where you profited financially and were journalistically clear, I'd love to hear your story!

[drdemonprince]

Oh please tell us more about what you enjoy in American Psycho! It's one of my favourite novels too, for its writing style first and foremost, the way it dehumanizes its characters, makes them seem more like mannequins with the purpose of wearing designer clothes than people. And the rat torture scene was the first time I had to put a book away for a while cause its imagery was too gruesome, it's great.

I think what I enjoyed most about it was how insecure and pathetic Patrick was. You get it in the movie obviously, but the number of times he makes himself cry or throw up or says something awkward in a store and has to run out because he is embarassed in the novel just really elevates the whole thing for me. The part where (I think his mother?) asks him why he's doing something and he says "Because I want to be....normal." made me fall out of my seat laughing. I love living in his head. I love the meandering prose, the long lists of nonsensical food and clashing outfit combinations and times when he clearly identifies something incorrectly, I love how downright juvenile his violent fantasies are (something really missing from the adaptations! he's a fucking 12 year old dweeb!), the messy circular unending quality of it and that as a reader you never get to any point of satisfaction. I wish it never ended. I could just listen to him be a neurotic wreck forever.

I haven't read any other Bret Easton Ellis, but I know he has a book from the brother's point of view. Should I pick it up? I don't know if any of his other stuff is remotely the same.

[hms-tardimpala]

Ficbinding: The Bone Eater by CluckU

(Listen, taking pics is not my talent. Just ignore the Wrestlemania tier list in the background.)

The fic: SPN, Castiel/Dean Winchester, E, 119.3k This fic is amazing. It's dark as I like and breathtaking, and it's a fantastic exploration of my favorite character, Dean Winchester. He's completely believable as CluckU writes him, there's not a doubt in my mind that that's how he would react if kidnapped and fed on by a minotaur, even at the times in the story when I wished he'd go against his instincts to protect himself. Also, the monster in this fic is so cool. He's well written, menacing, pathetic in a way, and so terrifying because of the way he feeds and how implacable he is. Special mention to the whole Misery vibe of this fic and especially chapter 15, that was so well done. Read the tags.

The bind: This is one of my most complex works to date, for several reasons. Let's start with the palette. White for te very bare cell Dean lives in and to contrast with other colors; red on the endbands and ribbon for blood (and there's a lot of it here); silver on the edges and endpapers for the medical instruments and table; black because I don't have grey cloth and I thought it'd contrast better with white to make the prison bars pattern.

The first difficulty was trimming and sanding the textblock. It was too thick for my ream cutter and as I said before, I'm losing my faith in it. So I trimmed each one of the 18 signatures by hand, then sanded the block with my new power sander. It took a long time and made a lot of noise, and the heat made it hard to work for long, but I'm loving this new tool. The smoothness of the edges was so satisfying.

Then I spray-painted edges for the first time. And it didn't go so well. It seemed okay, but for some reason paint still rubs off my fingers even though it's dry, so I have to be very careful when handling the book. I'm thinking of giving up acrylic paint in favor of laque spray next time.

Another thing I was apprehensive about was the straight spine. I'm a round spine guy, I have very little experience with straight ones, but it went alright! It's good! I don't think I'll make it a regular occurrence, though, I find it nerve-racking.

The last tricky thing was the cover pattern. (You can see it well in the sun if you click on the picture above.) It wasn't hard to think up or to figure out, mathematically speaking, but it was long, hard work in the July heat to cut the strips and glue them on the cover in a regular fashion. Took me hours. But it came out looking great! I did make a little mistake, though: I prepared the casing last night and I was so tired I glued the book in it by automatism, but I should have added the stripes before putting the book together.

Now, the typesetting!

I could have used a Greek theme throughout, but the minotaur myth is too modernized in this story for that, so I confined these references to the front page. A non-serif font because this is mostly Dean's POV and if you've read my previous ficbinding post, you know my feelings on that. And then bones! For the chapter headings, I used a pelvic bone that cradles the chapter number. The only chapter with a different heading is chapter 15, with the hand, for reasons obvious to those who have read the fic. And a nice femur as a divider. Really, the pelvis, hand and femur are the most important bones in The Bone Eater. The all look crisp, I'm happy with that.

Any reservations?

I wrestled with my printer a while and couldn't get it to print the right shade of red, I'll have to look into that next time.

Wow, I had a lot to say this time! It was a very interesting one, craft-wise.

Fonts: title and chapter numbers: Lethal Craze Demo, author name: Hey August, text: TT Fors Trial. All free on Dafont.

Materials: Black and white cloth from Schmedt, 2mm grey board, 70g/m² white copy paper, synthetic bookmark and headbands. Silver endpaper bought in store.

Feel free to ask me more about materials and fonts (or whatever), it won’t bother me at all to tell you what I used, I just can't think of anything else right now.

[stackthedeck]

Do you know of any good booster gold reading lists for a beginner to his comics? You're converting me

I've made a few videos about with reading lists for him on tiktok they're in my comic recommendations playlist but also like I fully understand not wanting to open that app

there's this thread on twitter that gives specific issues so you don't have to read decades of comics this is a good way to get an idea of the character quickly. It's a fast way of reading but I find the skipping between books tedious and not as much fun

there's also this very helpful very exhaustive spreadsheet of every appearance of Ted and Booster! Very helpful, but you don't have to read everything for sure

And then I'm going to put my own personal reading list under the cut and it's a lot so remember you don't have to read everything and there's no shame in skipping around!

Must reads

Booster Gold 1986— This is the first appearance of Booster Gold, obviously you've gotta read it. It's only 25 issues and is legitimately such a fun and interesting read. The way information about him is slowly revealed is good I wish I could have been there when these were releasing

Justice League International/America— some people read this as they read Booster Gold (refer to the twitter thread I linked if you want to do that) I didn't and I wasn't confused when reading it. I kinda like reading it all without switching to the other book. This is a huge stretch of comics and I'm not saying you should read it all... but I'm also saying it's a very good era of comics and I enjoyed it a lot. If you only want Booster related issue refer to the spreadsheet.

Countdown to Infinite Crisis— woah big skip in time! Let's just say after JLA ends Booster and the team have a... controversial stretch of appearances. Countdown is just one big long single issue and it's beautiful, gotta read it.

The OMAC Project— this is the fallout of countdown and I really enjoy Booster being angry and it helps set up Infinite Crisis which I guess you should also read but I'm really take it or leave it with that event.

52 weeks— (not to be confused with new 52 I made that mistake) This book works surprising well for having four authors and so many characters to juggle. Booster is a huge player in this event and it's very enjoyable to read as a fan of him. This event also leads directly to his second solo

Booster Gold 2007—this shit fucks so hard!! I love Booster as "the greatest hero you've never heard of" he has so much character growth, fun stories, and an amazing supporting cast! The numbers can be weird if you're read it on a certain pirating website so start with 1 through 6 then go to 0 back to 7 through 10 then issue one million then back to 11

Justice League Generation Lost—this is basically the new JLI but with Jaime Reyes as the Blue Beetle because Ted is gone. It's a very fun dynamic with this new old team and it works so so well especially Booster and Jaime's friendship. This one I do recommend reading with the Booster Gold solo so after issue 32 of Booster Gold, start Generation Lost and basically switch back and further every issue

Please Read Them For Me

Extreme Justice— this is an aggressively 90s run and is largely ignored by the comic community and canon BUT I SWEAR IT'S GOOD! Booster is essentially in an iron lung and he is not handling it well. Booster got flattened by JLI quite a bit and I really do think this run added some depth back to him

Time Masters 1990—Booster is barely in this, but trust me Rip Hunter is important and it's a very fun and interesting time travel adventure with a really cool group of characters

Time Masters: Vanishing Point—No connection to Time Masters 90 except that Rip is here. But Booster has a lot of really good moments in this. Ignore the Batman bits this is truly just a story about Rip and Booster

Origin Story revisited

(Both BG 86 and BG 07 establish and revisit the origin story so you'll get to them as you're reading)

Secret Origins 1986 #35—honestly a pretty standard origin story but I really like how this story highlights Booster's relationship to his mom and sister

Justice League Quarterly #10—I hope you're reading the quarterly and annual issues when reading JLI because they are some of the best stories but this one in particular is just beautiful

Action Comics 2016 #993-998 (Booster Shot)— Really this is more of a funny action packed and surprisingly heartfelt team-up time travel adventure with Superman and Booster, but this does provide additional context to Booster's origin story and I like it a lot. This story is really really so good

Just Plain Fun

Martian Manhunter #24— Booster and Ted steal all of J'onn's. oreos. this is an incredibly iconic issue, it's hilarious and just the kinda hijinks you want from the boys

Blue and Gold— I personally think this run is deeply out of character and a little too "lol memes" for me, but it does have some good like Trixie coming back and seeing Ted and Booster together again

Blue Beetle 2023—issue 7 is the main Booster story but he has other appearances in this run read the whole thing it's short and so good actually just read every blue beetle solo. It's a really visually beautiful time travel story and I love Booster and Jaime being friends even now that Ted is back

Batman Brave and the Bold #13-15— it's a fun time shenanigans story with the Jurassic Justice League what's not to love

DC's 'Twas the 'Mite Before Christmas— a cute christmas story with Booster and Rip and what I cling to in hopes that Rip will return to DC comics soone

Harley Quinn 2016 #70-74— this is a controversial take but I like Booster and Harley together, as a temporary couple at least and definitely as friends and partners in being silly. This story gives Booster an unexpected amount of emotional intelligence and it's nice

[simonsapelsin]

It's the 1980s. Young Prince Wilhelm is reading a comic book and notices a page in the back titled Pen Friends. It's a listing of names, ages, addresses, and short descriptions of kids looking for pen pals. One in particular catches his eye: a boy his age in the town of Bjärstad (so close!) who is just as passionate about his favorite superhero as he is. Lonely Wille writes to the boy, Simon, using a P.O. Box that his older brother Erik had set up for his own secretive purposes. (Erik knows that Wille could use a friend, and is willing to send and receive the letters for him.) Wille uses a fake last name and doesn't tell Simon that he's a prince.

A great epistolary friendship soon blossoms. They first write about comics, tv shows, pop music, likes and dislikes; then about their families and school, worries and aspirations (Simon is very candid; Wille sometimes tells careful half-truths to shield his identity). One day Simon mentions thinking a male comic book character is good looking, and that opens up an ongoing conversation about liking boys. Simon is sure that he's gay, and has come out to a select few people in his life; Wille is not at all sure of his identity, but is bold enough to admit feelings to Simon that he's told no one else about, and is only just realizing himself.

Simon sends Wille a photo of himself, a school portrait. Wille keeps saying he'll send one soon. He keeps Simon's letters in a shoebox tucked far under his bed. He keeps his photo under his pillow at night, and always remembers to move it into his desk drawer during the day, so the maid doesn't find it.

They start to write about possibly meeting up, since they aren't too far away from one another. Maybe pizza, an arcade? Simon writes his home phone number in a P.S. in one of his letters, asks Wille to call if he wants to, so they can make a plan. Wille memorizes the number. He goes into Erik's room when he's away, sits in front of the phone (Erik has a private phone line), winds and unwinds the long spiral cord around his fingers, picks up the headset, dials most of the digits. Hangs up when his heart starts beating too fast.

One day Simon writes that he'll be going to a new school with his sister. Hillerska. A posh boarding school, but he'll be commuting from home. It's where Crown Prince Erik went! Simon doesn't want to go. He's worried about not making any friends, about not relating to the rich kids there. He wishes he could be Wille's friend. For real.

Wille writes that he's sorry he hasn't called yet. He wants to, but he's been busy, and his parents and older brother are always using the phone when he's free. He'll try again soon. And he's sure Simon will make a friend at Hillerska.

"Mamma?" Wille knocks on his mother's office door.

"Come in, Wilhelm," Queen Kristina replies.

Wilhelm enters, and sits in the seat across from his mother. She looks up from her papers. "Yes?"

"Mamma, I changed my mind. I do want to go to Hillerska."

[thehollowwriter]

Summary: Jade and Malleus get the "one bed trope" treatment

A fic inspired by a post by @letmedisolveintomoss about the various clubs getting stuck in the "only one bed" trope, with Jade and Malleus being put together because they're the only members of their respective clubs.

This can be interpreted as either romantic or platonic

(Pls reblog and leave a comment ❤)

There's Not Mush-Room For Both of Us

It was a sweltering 36 degrees when the busses pulled up to the hotel parking lot.

Inside were groups of rambunctious, hot and sweaty teenagers who were tired and cramped.

The hotel stood tall, white and gold theme glittering in the sunlight and stark against the clear blue sky. It was a five star, very popular, and about to be terrorized by Night Raven College.

Malleus gazed out the window he was seated at as the bus drew to a stop. This was not as pleasant as the car ride he had in Kalim's hometown, but it was interesting none the less.

Sebek, unsurprisingly, was livid at the idea of his waka-sama travelling so casually in such a rickety vehicle that had clearly seen better days, but Malleus didn't mind. It was nice to experience something simply as a normal student on a school trip for a few days.

The clubs of Night Raven College were all going to give presentations at another school, showing off their work and research relating to magic or magical technology.

Malleus knew that gargoyles in the Valley of Thorns were magical, although not living like in Noble Bell College. They were quite useful in turning rain water into drinking water.

He was excited to share his discoveries and facts with others, now that he wasn't left behind like in his first year. That was an upsetting time.

"Alright." Said Crewel, who looked like he wished the bus crashed when they swerved earlier. "Puppies, I want you all to climb out and line up. You will be assigned hotel rooms according to your club, so make sure to stay with your fellow members."

Malleus blinked. He was the only member of his own club, and it wasn't like he made any acquaintances on the three hour drive here. Everyone in the bus avoided him.

Was he going to just be alone in a hotel room for two weeks?

Malleus sighed and accepted his fate with a pinch of salt. Other clubs were so big they could not fit into a single room and had to to be spread out. Malleus doubted there was any other club with only one number.

All the students from the busses gathered and the teachers began reading out groups and room numbers in order of club size.

To pass the time, Malleus gazed at the hotel, trying to see if he could find any gargoyles. To his disappointment, he couldn't see any.

Well then, he would have to take a flight to search further tonight.

The numbers dwindled slowly but surely, Sebek making off with Riddle and Silver and Lilia flying after Cater and Kalim.

Malleus found himself standing alone. That was fine. He was... used to being alone.

"Malleus Draconia." Trein looked at the list and back at him. "You will be sharing a room with Jade Leech, as you're both the only members of your clubs and Crowley did not want to book an extra room."

"Of course, professor." Came a voice and Malleus turned.

The Octavinelle vice stood there with a number of bags in his hands and floating around his head. Malleus hadn't seen him there.

"Room 609 on the top floor."

Jade took the key and sent a close-lipped smile Malleus's way. "I look forward to a two weeks stay with you, Malleus-san." He said, placing a hand on his chest.

Malleus was... surprised by Jade's almost non-chalant behaviour. Most students would try get a different room or swap with someone, pale faced and avoiding his gaze.

But Jade simply smiled and looked right into his eyes without even a hint of fear or even weariness.

"I return the sentiment, Leech." Malleus said, walking inside the hotel alongside the second year. "I'm sure we will enjoy each other's company."

Sharp teeth just barely poked out Jade's lips. "Please, Malleus-san, you may call me Jade."

Malleus was surprised for the second time in the span of three minutes. Nobody in his two and a half years of Night Raven College had ever asked him to call them by anything besides what he called them.

"Yes, of course... Jade." It felt strange on his tongue, but not unwelcome. Finally, somebody besides Sebek, Silver, and Lilia to be on first-name basis with.

They came up to an elevator and Malleus stopped short, looking the two metal doors up and down.

"Is something the matter, Malleus-san?" Jade inquired.

Malleus shook his head. "Not at all. I am simply unsure of how to use this contraption."

"Ah." Jade nodded. "You don't have this type of technology in the Valley of Thorns, then?"

"No, we use magic for almost everything. We have no need for technology."

"Well." Said Jade, looking at the elevator. "This type of technology would not be necessary in the Coral Sea, since all you need to do is swim up. It appears I don't know how to use this either." He looked sheepish for a split second before his face became neutral again. "I had meant to research it but it slipped my mind."

Jade looked at Malleus. Malleus looked at Jade. They both looked at the elevator.

"Shall we take the stairs?"

"Indeed."

Malleus would have teleported but... he would like to see if Jade would start a conversation.

As they made their way to the top floor, Malleus was impressed at how Jade was able to keep up with him. He certainly had more stamina than his dorm leader.

Jade tilted his head to the side at Malleus and hummed. "You are part of the Gargoyle Research Club, yes?"

"That is correct." Said Malleus, smiling proudly. "Not enough people appreciate that magnificence of gargoyles. And your club is?"

"The Mountain Lovers Club." Jade's voice pitched an octave as excitement lit up his heterochromatic eyes. "I often travel to the mountains for a few days to study various plant life. Although, my main focus is mushrooms."

"Mushrooms?"

"Indeed. Though they aren't plants. They are fungus that are more plant-like."

Malleus raised an eyebrow and they arrived at the top floor. "I did not know that." He said curiously. "But... mushrooms?

Jade smiled, closed eyes forming crescent shapes. "I simply adore mushrooms. They are endlessly fascinating and there is so much to learn about them. There thousands of variations and no single one is the same. They can be poisonous or delicious in a meal or function as a hallucinogenic."

Malleus's eyes widened slightly as he came a realization. "So... you could say that how you feel about mushrooms is like how I feel about gargoyles. They too, are endlessly fascinating, and there is no such thing as identical gargoyles. Not truly."

Jade's smile widened just a bit. "I suppose so, yes. Perhaps we could swap information, if you wish."

Malleus smiled back. "That sounds good. Ah, here we are."

They came to a stop to their door and Jade took the key from his pocket.

"I have heard good reviews of this hotel." Said Jade as he placed the key in the lock and turned it. "Excellent service, gorgeous views, and luxurious rooms. Let's see what we have."

He opened the door and Malleus would be lying if he said he wasn't impressed. He didn't know humans could make such lovely suites.

He and Jade stepped inside, admiring the white and gold colour palette and decor. There was a kitchen tucked into the corner, then a dining table and a lounge area with large couches and a flat screen television and just beyond that; a balcony looking out to the sea.

Jade put his bags down waved his magical pen. The bags that were floating by him opened up and at least twenty terrariums were pulled out, all containing different types of mushrooms.

Malleus looked at them in interest, taking note of the different species and colours and shapes, and he suddenly wished he knew what each of them were.

Jade made his way to the door that lead to the bedrooms and opened and stopped suddenly. "Oh." He blinked, looking into the bedroom of the hotel room in surprise. "Oh dear."

Malleus, who was poking curiously at the television, looked at him. "What is it?"

"It appears there may have been a mistake in the booking process." Jade murmured. "There is only one room. An en suite. And... only one bed."

Malleus left the tv and peered into the room. Jade was right. The room was large and lovely, but there was only one king sized bed, sitting pretty in the centre. "I see."

"It is too much of a hassle to change rooms now." Said Jade. "I can take the couch."

Malleus frowned. "That is a kind offer, Jade." He said slowly, carefully weighing his next words. "But that will not do. I cannot take the bed and leave you to sleep on a couch of all things." He hesitated before gesturing to the bed. "We can share, if you are comfortable with that."

Jade nodded and stepped into the room, letting his own guide his terrariums to settle about the room. "That sounds good, then." He checked his watch. "We should unpack. It is almost six and we have to go downstairs for dinner."

Malleus agreed and the two of them split the cupboard in half, Malleus's clothes on the left, Jade's on the right, and both their toiletries neatly packed in the bathroom.

When they went down for supper, Malleus felt quite disappointed when Silver, Sebek, and Lilia came over to him and Jade left his side to join Azul and Floyd.

Malleus almost wanted to make the room disappear so that he could talk to Jade some more. They promised to share their interests after all. But he would not be so brash.

Patience is key.

Dinner came to an end and Malleus bid his goodbyes, standing in the corner and patiently waiting for Jade to finish his conversation.

Jade waved to Azul and patted Floyd's head when his twin squeezed him goodbye, and then they went their separate ways.

Jade caught sight of Malleus and went to him, smiling.

"Hello, Malleus-san." He said. "It appears we are not the only ones with a rooming issue. Both Floyd and Azul's rooms only have one bed as well. It is quite amusing."

"Ah." Malleus smiled. "Lilia, Silver and Sebek have the same issue. It seems we have quite a conundrum on our hands."

"Indeed. Woe is us~"

The two of them chuckled slightly and then Jade went to take the stairs. Malleus stopped him, carefully taking his hand.

"I will take us there." Said the dragon fae. "It is quicker."

Before Jade could respond there was a flash of green light and they were in the bedroom. Jade stumbled slightly, lights dancing in his eyes, before straightening himself.

"Oh my." He said, blinking. "That was unexpected."

"My apologies!" Malleus said quickly, praying to the witch of Thorns that he hasn't just scared off his new companion. "I should have asked you."

"No no, it's quite alright." Jade waved him off, and touched the remaining green sparks curiously. "It was an interesting experience. Now, I believe we should get ready for bed. We have an early day tomorrow."

They brushed their teeth and Jade went to change in the bathroom, Malleus simply snapping his fingers to change into long black and gold pajamas.

He pulled open the covers in got in, sitting up and looking at the spot next to him. It was strange, knowing it wasn't going to be empty.  Knowing that he wasn't going to be alone.

Jade emerged from the bathroom and Malleus would have laughed if he weren't confused.

"Are those... mushrooms?"

Jade had a look of pride on his face as he opened his arms to show off his light purple pajamas littered with mushrooms and the word "kinoko" from top to bottom.

"I love all things mushroom, Malleus-san. Merchandise is no exception."

He then proceeded to climb into bed with no hesitation whatsoever and Malleus could not help but quirk an eyebrow at the casualness.

"You seem awfully calm in the presence of the Prince of Fae, Jade. Are you not afraid?"

Jade simply smiled at him. "I apologize if I have offended you, Malleus-san. In the deep of the Coral Sea there are horrors you could not begin to imagine. As they say, there is always a bigger fish. I have learned to be weary, but fear will only make you even tastier prey."

Malleus started. He looked at Jade curiously in silence for a moment, focusing on his face.

There was not a trace of fear, some slight guardedness and a bit of weariness, yes, but no fear or reluctance at all.

"How fascinating." He said at last. "I have heard about the Coral Sea, but never- ah- straight from a merman's mouth. It seems things are different there."

"They are bound to be. It is a dangerous life." Suddenly Jade laid and pulled the covers up to his chest. "Well? Are you going to tell me about gargoyles now? I never thought about gargoyles being interesting, I'm eager to hear what you have to say."

Malleus quirked an eyebrow at the uncharacteristic impatience and lay down as well. "I have to say the same for your mushrooms."

They turned off the lights and, in the dark, began to quietly share every little tidbit of history, features, and facts about their passions, listening intently and commenting when they could.

Jade was quite surprised. He never truly thought about gargoyles in this way. He supposed that he would have to look into them more.

"We should go look at gargoyles together sometime, then." He said softly  staring into Malleus's emerald green eyes. "I am sure it would be fun."

Malleus couldn't help but gasp a bit at that. "Really?"

"But of course."

Jade had originally wanted to use this situation to his advantage and slip something worthwhile from Malleus for Azul, but he decided against it.

Never before had somebody taken such keen interest in his mushrooms. It made him happy to see Malleus nod along, actually listening, and ask him various questions.

Malleus, meanwhile, was astounded. He never took much interest in mushrooms, even if there were a few fairy rings in Ramshackle's garden.

As far as Malleus was concerned, there were brown mushrooms and red mushrooms with white spots, and those were all he cared to know. But now, listening to Jade and looking at his terrariums, he wanted to know more. To see more.

"Jade, if you will be accompanying me to look at gargoyles, how about I accompany you to the mountains?"

...To spend more time with his... friend.

Now Malleus knew, Jade Leech was not someone that made buddies. But as far as he was aware, thanks to Yuu, this sort of thing was what friends did. Have a "sleepover", share stories, talk about things, stay up late.

It was in fact, very late. Almost three in the morning. But that was alright. If they slept in, nobody would dare try come in to wake them up except Lilia.

Jade's eyebrows raised and a look of surprise flashed across his face and he smiled. "That sounds... absolutely lovely, Malleus."

Malleus took note of the lack of "san" and he would dare say he felt giddy. It might be because Jade was just tired, but still. It counted as something.

After a moment Malleus continued to tell Jade about the talking gargoyles of the city of flowers, and how he had been rude enough to mistake one for a simple statute. Malleus still shuddered to think of it.

His story continued, Malleus completely sucked into his tale, until became aware of a sudden weight on his chest. He looked down, frowning.

"Oh."

Jade was out a like a light. Head on Malleus's chest and breathing soft and even.

Malleus stared down at him  baffled, before chuckling. "Yes, it is quite late. I think next time we should set a time to stop." He faltered for a moment, then placed his hand on Jade's head.

"Goodnight, Jade. Thank you for not leaving me alone."

-End

....................................

Tagging: @adarkenedforest @honey-milk-depresso @cupids-chamber @twisted-wonderland-but-gayer

I hope you all enjoyed, I'm really proud of this fic, especially since I don't write Malleus often.

Also these two are an underrated pair

[harrowharks-iliac-crest]

3

We have a different picture: A tree, with an apple hanging off it.

This is the first time we've had one like this that wasn't a skull, or the tomb, I'm pretty sure. For the first time, it's something living.

(I think we've had heralds as well, but are those alive? Animated by the RB yes, but alive?)

Anyway, this is exciting. Let's read.

Nona didn’t want to be just good-looking and dumb; she wanted to be useful. She was dimly aware that she was not what anyone had wanted. This was why she had gone out and got herself a job, even though it wasn’t a paying one.

I love her so much. Did I say that already? I love her.

Cam had to tell the nice lady that Nona was nearly nineteen. The nice lady was totally foxed. “But she’s such a dot.”

Tiny Harrow's body. Mercymorn believed without a shred of doubt when Harrow told her she was fifteen. She's just little for her age. And this is adorable, except for giving random people our exact address. Don't do that, Nona.

They told her Nona couldn’t read or write and the nice lady said, Oh.

Did they teach her to write her address and flat number only, then? Nona wrote that much down for the teacher.

Then Pyrrha, much to Camilla’s disgust, flirted outrageously with the nice lady teacher until the nice lady teacher left.

Damn, Pyrrha.

(Extremely happy we're getting to know Pyrrha a bit better now!!)

Instead of getting to know what pimp was, she got in trouble for giving anyone their door number and house number. Nona cried, lavishly and immediately, but Camilla and Pyrrha wouldn’t budge.

I love her being so in touch with her emotions. So far we've seen Harrow and Gideon, both very detached from their bodies and feelings. Maybe Nona is who is left behind when neither Harrow nor Gideon are around to "drive". Plural vibes. I like it.

When she emerged, spluttering, she had presence of mind to ask: “Why did you flirt with the teacher, even though you didn’t like her?” Pyrrha’s hands stilled from folding laundry, sitting next to the tub. “How’d you know I didn’t like her?” she asked. Nona still didn’t have the words to explain. “Just where you put your body —you only looked at her sometimes, that’s all.” “Wish I’d had you in the Bureau,” said Pyrrha, but she didn’t answer the question.

So she can't just speak and understand all languages, she just intuitively reads people. That's so cool. And also not exactly one of Harrow or Gideon's powers, at least they're not aware of it quite to this extent. It's great.

In fact, she only loved the Hour of Science because that was when she was allowed to look after Noodle, the science teacher’s dog, who was a dirty white creature with six legs and a gentle disposition.

We meet the six-legged dog! I want to know more about why he's got six legs.

It was just as hard to make Nona learn any facts as it was to make her learn the sword or the bones—harder, probably; as she explained all the time, as sweetly as she could, her brain simply wasn’t interested in them. It was as though someone had probably told her everything before and she had already forgotten it.

And knowing how these books tend to go, that might be exactly what happened here.

At school, after the first week, Nona was cornered by five children who informed her that she was now their friend. “Okay,” said Nona. “Hot Sauce wants you,” she got told.

Oh cool some kids! These are the people mentioned on the birthday guest list, then - a bunch of children from the school. Nice.

“What’s special about the Building?” she asked. “It’s banned,” said Honesty. One of the other children, Beautiful Ruby, said: “My mother says that if you get caught downtown or you shoot at the wrong window you get taken to your building.”

The building Nona lives in almost evokes prison. Maybe it is, or at least a place to dump undesirables.

Hot Sauce simply said: “She talks to the Angel. She gets to look after Noodle.” The Angel was what they called the nondescript, washed-out, dusty-haired personage who came to teach the Hour of Science. Why they called her the Angel was unclear,

Another person from the guest list, the Angel, the science teacher. Cool stuff.

“I don’t,” explained Nona. “Honesty found someone else to buy him drugs, so I don’t have to.” “Is his name really and truly Honesty?” Palamedes wanted to know. Nona struggled. “That’s how I hear it. Anyway, he shouldn’t be called Honesty at all, he tells huge lies and he’s trying to teach me too.” Nona longed to lie, but didn’t know how to stop her body from showing the truth;

Aha - one of the things we know about Alecto is that she "never managed to lie", according to Augustine. The same thing could be stopping Nona from lying. Or maybe she just knows her body will betray her lie, and decides being honest is easier.

Honesty, the kid, reminds me a bit of serial liars like Trump, who called his platform "TruthSocial" and uses it to lie egregiously 24/7. Perhaps a bit unfair to this kid, but I do find it funny he's called Honesty while being a huge liar.

Every so often an absolutely enormous earthquake rumbled beneath them, and when Nona first asked what it was, Hot Sauce said, “The Convoy”; and because it was Hot Sauce and not Honesty, she knew it had to be true. How wonderful it sounded—The Convoy—so big and mysterious and subterranean.

I'm not sure we've heard about this before! Some underground mode of transport like a train? Like Nona, I wanna know more.

Pyrrha explained that it was a bunch of vehicles driving in a line, probably very big ones. But she never quite got over that little shake, that tight vibration of the stomach when the Convoy was near, how it excited her somehow. It was like she could feel something wonderful in it.

I really hope Nona gets to see the Convoy.

“You’ll join, Hot Sauce, won’t you? Hot Sauce will join.” “Join what?” said Nona, the ignorant one. Which made the others do their usual chorus of— “Nona doesn’t know.” “Nona doesn’t know anything.” “Tell Nona.” And Honesty, who had been very nice since the cigarette arrangement, said: “When we leave school, we’re going to kill zombies, we’re gonna kill necromancers.”

Join Blood of Eden? It makes sense that kids don't join from birth, but it seems like BoE are pretty popular round these parts.

Honesty said, “Some of the zombies go spying outside the barracks, they ain’t all mad. That’s why you got to make sure you see all your friends eating and bleeding, or, you know—bam, you’re dead, or bones, or worse.” “I eat,” protested Nona.

Shh, don't tell them you're a necromancer! (Not that Nona is, really. She's not got any necromantic ability.)

“The necromancers will come back. They may already be here.” [...] Eventually Beautiful Ruby broke the silence and said, “What about Varun, Hot Sauce? What about Varun the Eater?” “It’s here for them,” said Hot Sauce. They looked up through the big crack at the blued sky respectfully.

Varun the Eater? Is that one of the resurrection beasts? It would make sense, if "it's here for them".

The Resurrection Beasts don't like any necromancers, but particularly don't like Lyctors, and especially don't like God. It's a shame none of them are anywhere near here. No necromancers to be seen. No Lyctors. Hush.

Nona whispered, “Join what, Hot Sauce?” Hot Sauce didn’t answer her. When she did say anything, she asked a question instead, which was irritatingly like Pyrrha. “You like it here?” “I love it here,” said Nona sincerely. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” “You’re sweet,” said Hot Sauce.

I love this interaction, even though we don't know anything more about BoE from it.

What a great chapter. I love Nona, I love these kids, I can't wait what sort of adventures they're gonna get into.

[himboskywalker]

Heyy boo, do you have a book that is not star wars related that you wish you could read for the first time or reread all the time?

I am searching for books recommendations and I am pretty open about every genre, maybe not horror but everything else is totally fine.

My number one book recommendation that I will always obnoxiously shove in everyone’s faces is Lord of the Rings. It is my heart and soul and favorite thing in the world and if you’ve never read the trilogy I highly recommend it. But I also have quite a few other recs!

Anything written by Andy Weir. “The Martian” is his best known work,which they made the Matt Damon movie of,and while I do love it “Project Hail Mary” is my favorite of his and one of my favorite sci-fi books of all time.

I loved “To Sleep in a Sea of Stars” which was Christopher Paolini’s sci-fi debut a couple years ago but he just came out with its prequel “Fractal Noise” and I liked it even more.

For some good old fashioned space opera brilliance I recommend the “Final Architecture” trilogy by Adrian Tchaikovsky. The last book of the series just came out and I DEVOURED it. Tchaikovsky’s Children of Time,Ruin,and Memory are also phenomenal, you really just can’t go wrong with him.

For more space opera and politics I highly recommend Arkady Martine,she DEBUTED with “Memory Called Empire” which won all sorts of awards. The sequel also recently came out but I haven’t gotten the chance to read it.

I’m in the middle of reading Pierce Brown’s “Red Rising” saga,which I would describe as adult Hunger Games,and have thoroughly enjoying it as well!

For fantasy I love Samantha Shannon’s “Priory of the Orange Tree” and “A Day of Fallen Night”. You’ll get varying opinions of what to read first,I read Priory when it first came out so that’s my biased opinion.

I’m a massive fan of “She Who Became the Sun” by Shelly Parker-Chan and their sequel “He Who Drowned the World” and I want it to go on record I read SWBS when it first came out and before it blew up *flips hair*

R.J. Barker’s “Tide Child” trilogy is awesome,first book of that series is “The Bone Ships.” It’s high seas fantasy with dragon bone ships and epic war and amazing world building.

I always highly recommend “Gideon the Ninth” by Tamsyn Muir and now also the rest of the books in the series. I think the usual pitch is lesbian necromancers in space.

I cannot cannot recommend “The Shadow of the Gods” by John Gwynne enough! It’s quintessential epic fantasy told as a Norse epic and it’s in my top five of modern fantasy books.

While I have serious beef with Song of Achilles just like our fellow obikin Will,I did love and devour Madeline Miller’s “Circe.” In every way I think it’s her superior work.

I can’t recommend fantasy without recommending “The Grace of Kings” by Ken Liu. His entire series will blow your socks off,but the first book won nearly every award for fantasy books that have ever existed.

I’m a huge fan of R.F Kuang’s “The Poppy War” series although I’ve heard this one is a contentious recommendation. I think this series is hate or love it but if for whatever reason you don’t vibe with this series I also highly recommend Kuang’s “Babel.”

If you want something a little less well known I could chew through drywall over Simon Jimenez’s “The Spear Cuts Through Water.” It was in my top five of 2023 release books.

I can also make a separate rec list of less new books and overall classics I always recommend or gift to people,both fiction and nonfiction!