#t. frederic

[happilysmythe]

❥ 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙧

trent frederic.

word count: 5.0k

warning: explicit content

"can you blow my mind?" — tyla

A/N: i recently received a request for trent and a leafs fan. i was given creative freedom and this is what i came up with. hope you like it, nonny <3

- - -

Bruins win Game 7 in OT.

The headlines came out at a rapid rate, informing the rest of the world that the Boston Bruins made it out of the first round and turned the Toronto Maple Leafs into mulch. Again.

Trent Frederic, along with a few teammates, were on too much of a high to return to their rooms at the hotel they’d been staying in just yet. Though they were home in Boston, coach Jim Montgomery thought it would be smarter to have the guys stay in a hotel instead of going back to their homes and apartments. Team bonding, he said.

The bunch set off for the bar inside the hotel, only a few blocks away from TD Garden, waiting a few hours before slipping in nonchalantly. They weren’t trying to get outed too fast, and they usually didn’t. Even once they were recognized, not much came of it. Most people were too drunk by then to make a scene, anyway.

So they sat down at the bar and ordered a few beers, celebrating accordingly and talking amongst themselves. They would finally let loose for just a night before the inevitable start of round 2 in just two days. They’d be having practice the next morning and flying down to Sunrise, Florida to face the Panthers, who were on their extensive break after knocking the Lightning in just 5 games.

Trent decided he’d had enough after his fourth beer, so he left his share and stood up to make his way out. As he turned around, his body hit something with a thud. He looked down and saw what it was that he came into contact with; a thin blonde woman with her arms out, jaw slack, and an empty hand that once held her drink.

Oh, and a Maple Leafs jersey.

“Oh, shit,” Trent muttered, compressing his lips.

You scoffed, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I can get you a new one.”

You looked up, a look of guilt on your face as your hands fell back down to your sides. “Shit, I’m sorry. I should’ve been looking where I was going, too—”

You paused.

“Where do I know you?”

He remained silent, shooting you a look as if to tell you that it should be obvious. It wasn’t long before your face dropped and it hit you. He suppressed a grin at your realization and parted his lips to speak.

“Name’s Trent,” he spoke smoothly, “but something tells me you already figured that out.”

“Well, you’re one of the last people I’d like to see right now,” you rolled your eyes, arms folded. “What’s a guy like you doing at some random bar at,” you looked at your watch, “12 in the morning after the game where you just knocked my team out of the playoffs?”

“Had to celebrate somehow,” he winked.

“Oh, god,” you grimaced. “I really do hate you guys.”

“Well, aren’t you a little ray of sunshine,” he laughed, putting his abnormally large hands on his hips. Your eyes subtly followed their path.

“Lighten up,” he teased. “C’mon. What’s your name? I know you’re not a,” he pinched the fabric of your jersey and pulled it to see the numbers, “Marner. Unless you’re into that sort of thing.”

You sighed at his remark and told him your name, but he made a face afterward.

“Too long.”

“Too long?”

“I think I’ll stick to Marner,” he told you, much to your dismay.

“Gross,” you replied irritatedly. “I don’t particularly feel like giving you the privilege of using a nickname. Just use my real name like everyone else. ”

“I’m all set, actually. I think I’ll stick to mine.”

“God, you’re annoying.”

“You gonna let me buy your drink or keep bitching about who I am?”

“Fine,” you sighed, “buy me the damn drink.”

He and you made your way to the other side of the bar, far enough away from the rest of the guys and the few friends you went with that you wouldn’t be noticed. You sat next to each other on the bar stools, Trent talking your ear off and you reluctantly replying with mostly one-word responses.

“You can’t be that angry with me,” he finally spoke, breaking another silence. “I’m not the whole team, you know.”

“I can and I will,” you shrugged, sipping your almost-empty drink.

“If you won’t talk, then I’ll just have to make you talk.”

He put his elbows down on the table and turned his head to face you, “Why’d you decide to come out in public after that game? I wouldn’t have even bothered to show my face in a bar wearing that. You here with other people or something?”

“I came with a couple of friends.”

“Doesn’t answer my first question.”

You looked down. “They wanted to come down here. I told them it was probably a bad idea because of the fact that we’re, you know, Leafs fans. They did it anyway so I just tagged along.”

“Bet you didn’t expect to run into me,” he nudged you with his shoulder, bringing a faint smile to your lips. “There you go,” he teased when he noticed your expression. “See? I’m not so bad.”

“Fraternizing with the enemy is a bad look for a woman like me,” you retorted, a playful undertone to your words. It was uncharacteristic compared to the closed-off manner you had with every other response. You wouldn’t admit that, however.

“Oh, she jokes,” he took the final sip of the drink he’d bought himself upon sitting with you, even after deciding he’d had his last beforehand.

“Shut up, Frederic.”

“We’ve regressed to my last name now? Can’t even call me by my first?”

“But you won’t use mine at all,” you rolled your eyes, “Trent.”

You looked at him for maybe a tad longer than you should’ve, eyes slowly moving down his body. He wore a white collared shirt that hugged his arms and gray dress pants that looked awfully tight around his thighs. You couldn’t help but notice the facial hair he’d grown since the start of the round, giving him a gingery mustache with a somewhat patchy beard. You’d seen what he looked like before that and were undoubtedly intrigued by it, regardless of whatever grudges you held against him. But you couldn’t let him know that.

So you turned to face the television above the bar, watching the commercial in a quiet trance as if nothing happened.

“Hey,” he tapped his finger on the bartop, diverting your attention back to him. “Tell me something,” he softly requested as you looked back, adjusting his body to face yours. “Why did you let me buy you the new drink if you weren’t going to talk to me, hm?”

You swallowed, “I wasn’t going to be rude.”

“The real reason,” he pressed.

“There is no real reason.”

“Alright,” he nodded, “so why were you staring at me before?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He lowered his voice and brought his face just slightly closer, a faint grin tugging at his lips. “You’re not a very good liar, you know that?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. I mean,” he laughed, shrugging his shoulders, “unless I didn’t see you looking for a while there. But I’m pretty sure I know what I saw.”

“Just…just shut up, Trent, alright?”

“Sounds like I hit a nerve,” he noted and you rolled your eyes. “You know, you’re cute when you’re irritable.”

His grin widened when you shook your head again, promptly informing him of how annoying he was once again. “But if I’m really being honest here,” he lifted his fingers and gently brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, “I think you’re pretty.”

At this, your hardened exterior softened. Your head turned just slightly so that he was in your field of view and you sighed gently. “Thanks.”

“Mhm.”

“I, um,” you cleared your throat, taking a breath, “I was looking before.”

“I know,” he softly responded, hand slipping down until his palm rested on your thigh. Initially, you flinched at the contact, but your muscles relaxed when you realized it was a warm gesture rather than one with malicious intent.

“You don’t have to be so cold,” he told you. “No matter who I play for, I’m just a guy.”

You were more attracted to him than you wanted to let on, and it surely didn’t help that he was being nicer to you. You suppressed a smile and faced him fully.

“It’s not that, it’s—it’s the point,” you flatly responded.

“You can look at me again,” he teased, thumb rubbing your thigh. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Don’t count on it.”

Your gaze lingered on him again, eyes flitting down to his lips before you looked away. It wasn’t hard for him to see through you—after all, you allowed him to keep his hand where it was, even after refuting his words. He took notice of your wandering eyes and finally pieced it together.

“Like the new look, eh?”

Your brows furrowed and you swallowed, “What new look…?”

“I think you know what I’m talking about,” he replied with certainty. “You have a thing for the scruff?”

“Please. I don’t even know what you looked like before that,” you lied, taking an unsteady breath.

“Doesn’t change that you were looking at it, does it?”

“Well…” you trailed off, lips parted as you tried to think up an excuse. “No,” you finally gave up, letting your head hang down. “It doesn’t, because I have seen you before and I do have a thing for it. For you,” you shook your head, laughing at the reality of how weak you truly were. How stupid you must have looked to him. “So tease me all you want, say that you told me so—you’re right.”

A ringed finger slipped under your chin and tilted your head toward him, his face mere inches away from yours.

“I’m not going to tease you.”

You swallowed, expression falling as your eyes locked with his. They were brown, you noticed. And they were…warm. They largely contrasted how he looked at you previously. It brought you to an entranced sort of state.

His touch was soft, comforting. But in a way that made you want him more. Caused your mind to wander to places you knew it shouldn’t have gone. It felt good. Really good.

And you had no business wondering what the rest of him would feel like on you.

“Where are you staying?” you blurted out.

“Upstairs.”

“Take me,” the words left your mouth before you could protest.

An eyebrow raised and his grin turned to a smile. “Gladly,” he whispered, lowering his hand and standing up.

He held his hand out and you hesitantly took it, allowing him to discreetly walk you toward the exit of the bar. You ducked when you saw your friends, praying that by some miracle they didn’t see you walk out with Trent Frederic.

“Trent,” you whispered, clutching onto him harder now that you couldn’t be hidden by the darkness of the bar any longer. “What if someone saw?”

“You would’ve known by now. Trust me,” he reassured you as the elevator doors slid open. You walked in and the doors shut, enclosing you in the small space. “And if anyone did,” he started, fingers brushing against the nape of your neck, “it’s none of their business, anyway.”

“Mhm,” you agreed softly, eyes beginning to close when you felt his warm breath on your neck.

“See? Not so hard to agree, is it?”

“Mm…no…”

He laughed softly in your ear and pressed a tiny kiss to the skin behind it. He intricately placed a few more on the exposed skin, prompting a faint hum from your lips as the doors slid back open. His hand found its place on your waist as he gently pushed you out, guiding you down the hallway and finally stopping in front of his door.

By now, you’d become urgent—urgent to feel his lips on yours no matter how much you told yourself it was a stupid idea. You lived in Toronto; a whopping 500 miles away. And he played for Boston, the team you hated with a passion so strong that you vowed to never let yourself be endeared by them. Yet there you were, standing next to the forward who contributed to your favorite team’s loss, wanting nothing more than for him to make you feel oh, so good.

And he would.

The door clicked open and he pushed the lever down, stepping aside to let you in. He was quick to pin you to the door with his body, arm coming up behind your head to lock it and toss the room card to the side.

“I can’t believe I let you charm me.”

“What can I say,” he rasped, leaning in closer, “I know how to get a girl in my room.”

His lips finally connected with yours and you immediately reciprocated, hand flattening against his chest and gripping the material of his shirt. You pulled him closer, slipping your free hand around his neck before tilting your head to deepen the kiss. The hair above his lips rubbed against your skin, the feeling eliciting a faint hum from your mouth into his. He grinned at this and hooked his fingers under the blue jersey you wore, pulling away promptly and carefully lifting it up.

“Taking this shit off,” he mumbled, pulling the fabric over your head and discarding it to the floor. “You’d look much better with mine.”

You rolled your eyes, “Not going to happen, Trent.”

“We’ll see,” he grinned, moving his lips to your neck and marking up the skin, drawing whimpers from your mouth.

Your hand snaked into his hair, fingers threading between the dusty ginger strands as you pushed his head closer. He kissed up to your jaw, sliding his hand up to your neck, the other placed on the bare skin of your hip. His fingers pressed into the nape of your neck and his thumb rested just under your chin, hand pressing the back of your head against the door as his lips kissed a path down your jawline.

“Shit,” you moaned breathily, reaching for the buttons on his shirt as his mouth returned to yours hungrily.

You worked your way down, the material of his shirt parting and exposing his skin as each button fell open. His tongue slipped between your lips, grazing your teeth before rolling over yours languidly. Soft fingers untucked his open shirt from his pants and began to trace his stomach, moving slowly up to his firm chest. The action caused the large hand around your neck to tighten its hold, prying a moan from your throat.

“Didn’t know,” you panted, “—didn’t know you wore a chain.”

“Like it, mm?”

The way he grinned down at you brought a lump to your throat. He made you nervous. Weak, even. And the height at which he stood compared to you surely didn’t help. So you nodded curtly in response, hoping he’d take the hint and not press you further.

But he took it and instead removed his hand from your neck to slide it down and meet the other at your lower back, promptly hoisting you up. Your hands moved to his face and held it while you continued to kiss him, him walking the two of you away from the door and in the direction of the bed. You kicked your shoes off just as he grabbed a towel from the rack on the wall outside the bathroom and laid it lazily atop the sheets. He then lowered you onto your back and let go, allowing you to lie comfortably on the bed as he remained on his knees in front of you.

He quickly shed himself of the torn-open shirt and tossed it toward the empty bed on the other side of the room. His body soon hovered over yours, an arm on the bed on each side of your head as he kissed you again. His lips moved to your neck once again, working the skin until soft moans slipped through your parted ones.

“Trent,” you exhaled, chest rising and falling deeply, “isn’t…isn’t someone else staying here with you? There’s—mm—two beds.”

“There was,” he mumbled into your skin, moving down to your collarbones.

“So couldn’t we get—”

“Was,” he repeated. “He already went home to his girlfriend. And I have both room keys.” He chuckled softly and reached around your back to unclasp your bra, the fabric coming loose on your chest. “So relax.”

You nodded and lifted your arms for him to pull it off, him letting it fall from his hand before kissing a path down the valley of your chest. His body moved down as he continued down to your stomach, then to your waist where his fingers hooked in your pants and slid them down your legs.

You kicked them off and opened your legs, allowing Trent to slip between them. He gently kissed your inner thigh, slowly working his way up until he reached the lacy fabric that covered your skin. He looked up, making and not breaking eye contact with you as he took the waistband between his teeth and tugged the fabric slowly down your legs. As he rose upwards, they and your pants were dropped to the floor.

Warm breath fanned the skin between your aching thighs, awaiting his touch oh, so impatiently. His fingers brushed the area, dragging themselves slowly up and down. His eyes flitted up to you, a faint grin playing on his lips before focusing back down.

“God, you’re wet,” he rasped, leaning down and settling his face between your thighs, your legs atop his shoulders. His hands wrapped around your outer thighs and gripped them, pulling you in promptly.

“Especially for someone who claims to hate me so much.”

You rolled your eyes and groaned, “Think that’ll make me like you any more?”

“No, but maybe this will.”

With that, his mouth wrapped around your clit, tongue swirling around and eliciting a gasp of shock from your parted lips. Your eyes widened as he sucked gently, hands kneading the warm flesh of your thighs.

He then trailed downward, planting small, light kisses on the sensitive flesh, all before his tongue carefully parted your folds and delved slowly inside. Your fingers gingerly threaded into his strands, palm flattening itself on the back of his head as you pushed him down, your body weak with the need for more friction.

The hair that had recently grown above his lips brushed against your skin, rubbing back and forth forcefully and bringing meaning to the term, ‘hurts so good.’

“God, fuck,” you groaned, hands tenaciously gripping the sheets and his curls as his tongue moved in a rhythm that was just enough to make you long for more.

He lapped at you mercilessly, expert movements of his tongue coaxing soft moans from your mouth. A cocky grin stretched across his lips as he brought you to the brink, then pulled away, forcing a whimper from you at the loss of contact.

A large hand was removed from your thigh and brought between your legs, knuckles once again dragging lazily along the sensitive, needy skin, but refusing to give you the satisfaction of doing what you wanted most. He was teasing you; punishing you for the way in which you treated him earlier without giving him as much as a chance to prove himself.

“Trent,” you whined impatiently, hips writhing involuntarily against his bearded face.

“Mm…what?”

You refused to admit the irrevocable attraction you had to him because you didn’t want to let him win. And now he was being a bitch to you, just like you were to him. He chuckled softly and pressed the tip of his finger to your entrance, allowing you to feel the small bit of pressure that came with it. 

“Please,” you whimpered, fingers tightening in his curls.

Enough was enough and he pushed the finger in, drawing a moan from your lips before adding another and thrusting them in and out with no room for complaint. The cold metal of his ring brushed against your sensitive inner walls and you gasped at the initial contact, your rampant mind having forgotten about the jewelry to begin with. And deep down, you loved it.

His mouth returned to your skin, tongue licking small stripes on the mound of flesh above his fingers, the scruff on his chin rubbing roughly against it. You knew you were going to have burns on your skin caused by his facial hair but you didn’t care; you just wanted to keep feeling him.

“Trent, don’t stop.”

He laughed quietly and sped up the pace of his fingers, urging you even closer to the edge. Your thighs closed in around his head, hand still pushing his head down. He hummed in satisfaction, the noise vibrating against your skin as he felt you clench around his long fingers.

His lips sucked on your clit in a steady pattern, causing your release to rip through you, prying a moan from deep within your stomach. You fisted the sheets tighter as your hips writhed against his face and fingers, legs beginning to shake from the pressure. Trent continued to work you through it, tongue lapping up the wetness that accumulated until you sunk back down into the mattress, spent.

Slowly he removed his fingers, first bringing them to his lips to lick them clean before rising back up. You inched backward on the bed until your head pressed against the pillow, Trent following and planting himself on his knees between your legs. His fingers reached down and fumbled with the buckle on his belt, eyes never leaving your body in the process. It wasn’t long before his belt haphazardly hit the floor, then his pants and his painfully hard cock was freed from its constraints. A rough palm placed itself on your knee, rubbing it slowly.

“Trent,” you swallowed, drawing his attention back up to your face. “Con—”

He raised his hand to cut you off, a gold wrapper resting comfortably between his index and middle fingers. The action having rendered you silent, he promptly took the foil between his teeth and pulled, spitting out the excess before taking out the latex and rolling it onto himself. You soon felt the pressure of him at your entrance, legs subconsciously widening to let him slip between them further, then heard the sound of him groaning as he pushed into you.

You swore it was the sexiest thing you’d ever heard.

He leaned forward slowly, giving you just a moment’s time to adjust to his size as he stretched you out. Your breaths were unsteady, eyes screwed shut as your fingers maintained their forceful grip on the sheets around you. Your mind was racing, but you knew one thing for certain—the man was about to fucking blow it. His body hovered above yours as he kissed a path from your stomach up to your neck, hands pressing into the mattress on each side of you.

“Where did you,” you breathed, “get that?”

“Pocket,” he rasped, mustache brushing against your neck.

Eyes wide, you responded, “That’s not—”

“Relax,” he mumbled, the corners of his lips slightly upturned. “I put it in there today.”

Then you impatiently lifted a hand to the back of his head and pushed his lips onto yours, kissing him urgently and wordlessly telling him to just move. He obeyed your silent command and pushed his hips into yours, burying his dick into you before pulling back, leaving only the tip inside. He repeated the process at a steady, slow rhythm—tortuously slow, at that—until your back was arching, hand in his hair sliding down to his shoulder blade as the long, coffin-shaped nails dug into his soft skin. The chain that you’d noticed earlier tapped against your cheek, the feeling provoking you to throw your head back against the pillow.

His hand slid up your front, fingers curling around to the nape of your neck and thumb resting under your chin once again, pulling your head back up as he quickened his pace, driving into you with more force. Every inch of his thick cock slid smoothly along your velvety walls, your mouth frozen in its open state as his lips worked at your neck again. And god, you just couldn’t understand what made you hate that guy in the first place. It must have slipped your mind completely.

Upon the first thrust of his hips, he felt just how tight you enveloped him. The immense pressure of you wrapped around his strained length, practically squeezing it. The age-old trick of conjuring up the most repulsive of thoughts seemed nothing but moronic to him in the past, yet for some reason he found himself naming off presidents in his head to prevent from coming so fucking soon. He only wished that he could feel it; really feel it, if it weren’t for that godforsaken rubber that separated him from you.

And he’d make it his mission to do so, whether you lived five hundred miles away or not.

He just hoped he’d last when he finally did.

The hand around your throat closed just slightly, using just enough pressure to threaten your intake of breath without causing any pain. It was delicious. You didn’t have the will to fight it—your body had already submitted to him long before, and there wasn’t much that you could focus on other than the feeling of him roughly thrusting into you, lips marking up one side of your neck while his hand firmly gripped the other.

The sounds of your mixed moans bounced off of the walls and you began to wonder whether anyone could hear it or not; if any of his teammates were close by, walking back to their rooms from the bar. The thought instilled enough fear for you to weakly voice it.

“What if—ah—what if someone hears us?”

“Let them,” he rasped, kissing behind your ear.

“But—”

“God, shut up,” he pushed his lips to yours, swallowing your words, moans, and expletives that threatened to destroy your mediocre attempt to stay quiet. His tongue rolled over yours, low hums reverberating in your mouth and filling your ears.

Finally, he released his hold from your neck, allowing the air to flow smoothly into your lungs once more. The hand reached for yours, roughly threading his fingers between yours before pushing the two forward and pinning the back of your hand to the headboard behind you. You let out a whimper at the sudden contact but quickly gripped his hand with a matching force to his as he hit the sweet spot inside you and a familiar pit in your stomach formed.

“Close,” you panted, back arching off of the bed and forcing your front to press firmly into his.

“I know,” he told you, grip tightening as the taut line in your stomach snapped.

His mouth enveloped yours again to swallow your noises, tongue swiping against your bottom lip. Your inner walls constricted around his length as you hit your climax, nails digging into his back as you grasped desperately at him for stability, support—any sort of strength that he could provide you with. And he did, grunting sporadically as he fucked you through your second orgasm, thrusts growing sloppier.

It wasn’t long before he twitched inside you, hitting his own peak and letting out a deep moan. Your name—to your surprise—left his lips in a slurred form, repeating it softly as if it were a hymn. Sweat coated your forehead, droplets dripping slowly down your face, and the frontward strands of your hair had grown wet. His curls dripped with his own sweat as his lips hovered just centimeters above yours, warm breath fanning your face and gaze aligning with yours.

You finally swallowed, “Wow.”

“Mm,” he hummed, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, hand letting go of yours and gently running up and down your side.

He waited a moment and carefully pulled out, the action drawing your eyes shut before he slipped off the used latex and disposed of it. You adjusted yourself as he did so, ridding the bed of the towel and briefly cleaning yourself up before you felt a piece of fabric hit your arm. You looked down to see a large, black t-shirt on the bed and grabbed it, quickly slipping it on as he walked back over. He motioned you under the sheets and you silently obliged.

Your back pressed against his chest, chain pressing into the skin as an arm wrapped around you and a hand flattened on your stomach. His other fingers pushed your hair to the side, exposing the skin to his eyes, and he saw the faint marks his fingers left on your neck. A pair of lips brushed against your ear and the soft rasp of his voice returned.

“You know, that’s a Bruins shirt,” he teased, scruff grazing your damp skin as his lips connected with your shoulder.

“Mhm,” you flatly responded.

“Going against your word pretty fast, eh?”

“Yeah, well,” you started, nuzzling back into him. “I told you I hated you and ended up in your bed, so,” you turned to him slightly, “unreliable source.”

He chuckled softly and brought his fingers up to brush your hair back, pressing a light kiss to your cheek. “Night, Marner.”

“Shut up,” you mumbled, and he laughed one final time before closing his eyes and relaxing into you.

So, against everything that you stood for just hours before, you fell asleep in Trent Frederic’s arms without much forethought. In his shirt and his bed, effectively leaving your friends behind because they’d for some odd reason just slipped your mind completely.

And when Trent woke up the next morning, he was no longer in your company, much to his dismay. Any trace of your presence the night before had perished, down to the towel on the floor. But there was one thing—one saving grace that caught his eye as he scanned the room.

A piece of paper on the nightstand with a phone number scribbled on it and a small note below it that read,

“For the next time you’re in Toronto.”

[penaltybox-gossip]

Trent Frederic and Anna are still together, they’re currently on a trip to Cabo San Lucas with Jake Debrusk and his gf Mia

^^^

Thank you!

[thenhlteaissuperhot]

Trent Frederic?

His girlfriend was supposed to be Presley Norby (the streets are saying they are no longer a thing, though they still follow each other on social media so perhaps they are still a thing or just friends).

Last year, Maggie MacDonald was another name surrounding him - once again, they still follow each other on social media, but that doesn't really confirm anything relationship-wise.

The conclusion - no public relationship as of right now.

Surprisingly, he actually doesn't follow as many random girls as one would have expected, considering he follows more than seven hundred people on Instagram.

[nhlgossips]

I’ve met a few other players but trent and Swayman were DEF MY FAVS such sweethearts

^^

[no27-chilis-honda]

WHOS READY FOR THE WHERE'D YOU GO TO HIGH SCHOOL BOWLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL SHE ST ON MY LOUIS UNTIL I CATHOLIC SCHOOL RIVALRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

[fkwmtzyy]

post-s2 kotetsu be like (damsel in distress)

[tiredandanxiouschaos]

Momm, you don't understand meee!!!! I don't like that convolvulus in a 'wow, pretty flower' way I like it in a 'epic Chopin reference' wayy *runs off to my room like a brat in any teen movie*

[basicallyanotherwitchesthing]

Herman Riffel, Morton T. Kelsey, George Bird, Frederic Groetsema - Dreams: Gateway to Your Inner World - Creation House - 1977

[happilysmythe]

hiii could i please request you write something about jealous freddie? either he sees reader being close with a teammate or one is flirting with her? (maybe mace?) w smut…? 👀 pretty please? 🥺

ohhh, nonny...this is just diabolical.

hope you like some toxicity.

WARNING: smut under the cut.

-

OF PRYING TEAMMATES AND JEALOUS BOYFRIENDS

“You’re fucking him.”

Your boyfriend’s voice rang in your ears as you paced around his living room, fingers massaging your temples. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re fucking him,” he repeated, adding extra emphasis just to prove his point. His tone cut through you like a knife. It was another baseless accusation from him, and you couldn’t pinpoint why he kept doing it to save your life. Why didn’t he trust you? You gave him no reason to think you’d do that to him. You loved him.

“I’m not fucking anyone, Trent,” you folded your arms, “and especially not your teammate. I’ve been helping him with his finances — which I told you about — and that was that. I don’t have feelings for him, and I sure as hell have no interest in swapping spit with him.”

Trent sighed deeply and mirrored your pose. It wasn’t the first time he’d gotten jealous, and from the looks of it, it wouldn’t be the last. Oftentimes when you looked at him, all you could see was someone foreign to you. He was like a shell of himself. It was as if the man you met all those months ago had vanished. Perhaps he had, because you slowly felt him slipping away, and you couldn’t stop it no matter how hard you tried.

You were hurt.

“You don’t believe me,” you finally stated. “You think I’m cheating on you with Mason. You actually think I’d do that to you.” A tear rolled down your cheek and you lifted a shaky hand to wipe it away. You wanted to keep your composure, but you knew it would be near impossible if this kept going the way it was. The inevitable end to this argument was coming, and that was exactly what you feared.

“The guy undresses you with his eyes every time he’s within five feet of you. You don’t think I’ve noticed that?”

“Trent, that doesn’t mean I reciprocate!”

“You haven’t made an effort to stop him, have you?” His tone was bitter, but his words came from somewhere else. Somewhere inside, he was hurting, and like always, he was covering it up with anger. This wasn’t new to you, and it’s why you’ve stayed with him. You were certain that it was something you could work through, to break through his exterior piece by piece, but with each passing day, it seemed to be a harder and harder task. “Or have I missed something?”

You swallowed. “You’d still be jealous all the same. We’d still be here, and we’d still be arguing. And it’s not like you’ve said anything to him, either. It doesn’t make any difference, don’t you get that?”

“You think it’s easy being a thousand miles away all the damn time, and when I finally get to see you, this is what I always deal with?”

Of anything he could have said, that was a contender for the worst. He knew your struggle, and he knew how difficult the distance between you was. It put a strain on your relationship long before this. You were beginning to fear that some of its damage couldn’t be repaired.

“Are you fucking serious?” you shouted back, allowing another stray tear to fall. You wanted him to see your pain and anger. You wanted him to know what he was doing to you, because maybe, just maybe, he would begin to understand how you felt. “You know how hard it’s been for me to gather up the money to visit you. You know I’ve been working day in and day out, and this is the thanks I get? I spend my hard-earned money to travel halfway across the country to see you, and that’s what I’m met with. A cheating accusation and our distance thrown in my face? Fuck that.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but you continued, finally getting this off your chest. “I’m sick of feeling useless and isolated. I’m sick of being treated like some whore that can’t keep her eyes and hands off of other men when all I’ve ever done is support you!”

“So what are you saying, then?” he asked. “It’s over? We’re done?”

“Is that what you want this to be?”

He didn’t reply. That was all you needed.

“Fuck you, Trent.”

You walked out, bags in hand, and left him alone with his thoughts in his living room. The tears you held back finally surfaced and ran down your cheeks, melting your makeup. You didn’t care, however, as you piled your things into a taxi cab and headed back to the airport, where you were supposed to be hours later.

You were supposed to get breakfast with Trent before you left for home again. You were supposed to let him properly send you off and leave you with a soft kiss on the head like he always did, one that you would carry with you for the whole flight as you watched Boston disappear from under you.

But instead, you sat alone in the back of a cab, patting your cheeks down with an old tissue and hoping the mascara stains wouldn’t run too deep.

- - -

Time passed slowly. You buried yourself in your work to try and eliminate at least some of the pain. Although you could keep it from most, the ones closest to you knew that it was all an act. You were hurting; there was no denying that. When the effect inevitably wore off, it all crashed harder on you. This was the man you loved so dearly for two years of your life, and now there was a hole in your heart that was shaped just like him.

Mason didn’t make things any easier. You had to keep contacting him, and you were always so sure that nothing was going to come of it. He was known as such a respectable person, so why would Trent be right? It’s not like any of his other claims had something to back them up. He wouldn’t do anything, you were sure of it.

You were wrong.

“I mean, did I seriously do something so bad?” you asked him as you sat on his couch. You had to go to Boston for work and some of the guys found out and stopped by your hotel to visit, one of them being Mason. You went over some minor details with his bills while he was there and quickly got off-topic. You strayed off in conversation after getting a little bored, and there you were, spilling all of your problems to him. “I never did anything to make him think I’d cheat.”

“You didn’t,” he reassured you, nodding his head. “He’s a dick. You deserve better.”

“He’s your teammate, Mason. You don’t have to dog on him,” you shook your head back. “We could have worked it out but I stormed off. I’m part of the problem.”

He placed a hand on your thigh, and you jumped. “You don’t need him.”

What was he doing?

You kept quiet — out of shock or fear, you weren’t sure — and he took your silence as a cue to move his hand up your leg. You froze. Your heart was practically beating out of your chest, and you couldn’t find the words to dismiss him. This wasn’t what you wanted. It was never what you wanted. This was his fault, and you were always too blind to see it. Trent was right. He did want you. But you didn’t want him. You finally came to your senses when he forced his lips on yours, so smug that you could feel how cocky he was. You shoved him back with all of the strength you had and stood up.

You screamed. You cried. You kicked him out.

You never wanted to see him again.

Your trembling hands picked up the phone and dialed Trent’s number, only to no avail. Missed call after missed call, a pit in your stomach formed. He didn’t want to talk to you anymore, and the only person to blame was yourself. If you had stayed that night, everything would have been okay. It was always okay. Now, it was over. Everything you worked for in the past two years was gone.

Until you heard a knock on your hotel room’s door. You assumed it was Mason again and told him to go away, but it was persistent. They kept knocking and ignored your pleas. Whoever was on the other side wasn’t him; you could feel it through the desperation of the knocks and the energy seeping through the door. So you opened it.

Of course, it was him.

You threw your arms around Trent and all but sobbed into his chest. Everything you thought was over turned out to be on its way back to you the whole time. You were stupid to think he’d ever let you get away that easily. You thought you lost him because of some idiot who happened to be his teammate. You weren’t going to let him go again.

“I’m sorry,” he finally whispered into your hair. “You didn’t deserve any of that. I’m a dick.”

“You were right.”

“What?”

“He was coming onto me. I was too stupid to see it, so I never said anything, and I,” you shook your head, and a tear fell, “I paid the price. That asshole just tried to kiss me.”

“I’ll kill him,” his eyes were dark. “I’ll fucking kill him. Is he still here?”

“No,” you vigorously shook your head. “He’s gone. I threw him out. That’s why I was calling you. I needed to apologize, and—”

“—no apologizing. You did nothing wrong.” He pulled back and looked down at you, eyes glazing over your body. He leaned over and kissed the side of your head, lips lingering just centimeters away from your skin. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “I missed you.”

You kissed him, hard. He returned it fervently and tugged your body against his. You tilted your head and parted your lips, allowing him to roll his tongue along yours. He was so eager to taste you again after what felt like years, and you could feel it. He needed you, and you never again wondered what it would feel like to have a man be desperate for you.

“Missed you, too,” you finally mumbled against his lips.

He hoisted you up and your legs wrapped around his waist. His fingers dug into the underside of your thighs, and you suppressed a moan. As you swiftly removed your shirt, he walked to the couch where you were not long before and sat down with you in his lap. You ground against him, trying to release some tension but only creating more. He groaned.

“Did he sit here?” he asked, hands traveling up your sides. You nodded. The pads of his fingers brushed along your bare skin that dripped with sweat from the fireplace lit just across from your spot on the couch. Sick of the growing heat between the fireplace and your bodies, he tore his shirt off and tossed it to the side with yours. “He’s a loser.”

“I—I know.”

You gasped when his fingers dipped into your loose pants and rubbed between your legs, only covered by a thin layer of fabric. You moaned, palm fastened on his shoulder for stability as your hips rolled against his fingers. You wanted more. He knew that. He wouldn’t give it to you until he was sure he was the only thought in your pretty little head.

“You’re so beautiful,” he rasped. His fingers pulled the fabric aside, now damp from the arousal that pooled beneath it. He grinned as he dragged them along the skin, thoroughly coating them. They would’ve glistened had they been exposed to light. “He wishes he could have you like this,” he referred to the wetness between your legs, knowing it was all for him.

Your breath hitched and you nodded, pushing your hips forward as you tried to chase his fingers. You couldn’t get the pressure you needed.

“He’ll never get to see you like this,” he added, “right?”

“Right,” you half-whined, and he finally pushed his fingers inside.

You groaned as he moved them in a push-pull motion, slick with your arousal as they glided in and out. His free hand gripped your waist and kept you in place, legs tight around him. His eyes watched you, so reactive to his touch, and he couldn’t get enough.

“That’s right,” he whispered and leaned in, slotting his lips with yours again. He swallowed your moans, which he loved and would often tell you to let him hear, but this time he didn’t need to. He opted to feel them as they reverberated in his mouth, how ridiculously needy you were for him.

Your hands tangled in his chestnut hair as you felt yourself getting closer. Your hips rolled into him again and again, matching his rhythm and helping him bring you there. He sped up when he felt your walls constricting around him. He curled his fingers just slightly and kept pushing them in until they finally reached where you needed them to, repeatedly hitting just the right spot.

With a weak groan, you came, burying your face in his shoulder as you rode out your high. The hand on your waist kept you up, your body already weak from the release of its pent-up tension. Droplets of thick, white liquid dripped down his fingers, but he didn’t stop moving them until he was sure you were finished. He pulled them out tantalizingly slow, letting you feel every inch until they were in front of his face. You watched as he cleaned them off with a satisfied hum.

His hand cupped your cheek and pulled you down to kiss you gently. This was different than before. Rather than something of possessiveness, it was an apology. He needed you to know that he was still there; the man you fell in love with. You could taste yourself on his tongue, and you wrapped your arms around his neck. He just made you fall apart in his arms, yet you already wanted more.

“Move in with me,” he mumbled against your mouth, and you froze, pulling back.

“What?”

“Move in with me,” he repeated, brushing a stray hair behind your ear.

You swallowed, “But what about my job, and my family…and…”

“I found places in Boston,” he cut you off. “We can talk to them. Work something out.” The serious look in his eyes as he spoke to you was unmistakable. He wanted this with you (so badly that he even planned on making a whole deal of asking you, but he couldn’t wait any longer). “We can always visit and call home. I do it all the time. We can make it work. I promise.”

“Okay.”

“Yeah?” he smiled, holding your waist.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I’ll move in.”

His smile grew and he pulled you into him, burying his face in your neck. His hand stroked your hair gently, and he planted a kiss on the back of your head. “I’m so sorry about everything,” he kissed you again. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

[blogdorogerinho]

Críticas — Coringa: Delírio a Dois (2024), Sinfonia de Paris (1951), New York, New York (1977), O Fundo do Coração (1981)

Coringa e Lady Gaga não combinam Coringa: Delírio a Dois (2024), um dos longas-metragens mais aguardados do ano, estreou nesta quinta-feira dia 3 de outubro nos cinemas de todo Brasil. Porém, as primeiras exibições para os críticos dividiu opiniões, já que o diretor Todd Phillips misturou o mesmo drama do original de causar mal-estar ao público com os musicais românticos dos anos 1950 em…

[penaltybox-gossip]

via nhlheadlines from Frank Seravalli

[manaberrysoup]

Hi pookies!

On this account, I’ll be talking about Visual Kei, its history, and popular bands! 🎤🎸

(I’m new to this app, soo a lot of things are still a bit confusing for me 🙏🏻) There's not much info about Visual Kei online, and it’s often hard to find, so if I can help anyone interested in this topic, I'd be super happy !! ᕦ⁠༼⁠✩⁠ل͜⁠✩⁠༽⁠ᕤ

!!

Before We Begin: I apologize for any spelling mistakes, as English isn’t my first language. 🙇‍♀️

This post will include: What Visual Kei is, Visual Kei genres, and information about Visual Kei bands.

Okay class, first lesson!! (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

What is Visual Kei?

Visual Kei (Vkei) is a music and fashion subculture that originated in Japan. The term "visual style" refers to a concept that involves not just music but also dramatic stage costumes, makeup, and overall aesthetics. It was popularized in the late 1980s and early 1990s by bands like X Japan.

1. Visuals: Vkei artists often dress in androgynous styles that challenge gender norms. Expect colorful hair, exaggerated costumes, dramatic makeup, and theatrical accessories!

2. Music Genre: Vkei bands generally blend rock and metal influences with other genres like punk, pop, gothic, etc.

3. Performance: Stage performances are theatrical, often focusing on storytelling and creating a dramatic atmosphere.

Sub-genres:

1. Eroguro Kei (Erotic-Grotesque Kei):

Features: As the name suggests, Eroguro Kei combines erotic and grotesque elements. It is known for its dark and disturbing aesthetic. Costumes are often scary, vampiric, or horror-themed. Stage performances frequently include images of fear, death, and taboo subjects.

Examples: Some periods of Malice Mizer and the early years of Dir En Grey(visual kei era) MAYBE close to this style.

Malice Mizer ☆

Genre: Gothic Rock, Baroque Pop

Active Years: 1992 - 2001

About:

Known for their gothic and theatrical style, the band pushed visual elements to the extreme. The era with Gackt as the vocalist is particularly famous. Iconic songs include "Beast of Blood" and "Bel Air."

Career Summary:

Malice Mizer debuted in 1992, creating a legacy with their gothic, baroque, and theatrical approach. Over their career, they went through three different vocalists, each bringing unique styles. Their most famous era was with Gackt as the vocalist (1995–1999). After the death of drummer Kami in 1999, the band eventually disbanded in 2001. Despite their short lifespan, they are considered one of the most iconic Visual Kei bands.

Dir en Grey

Genre: Alternative Metal, Progressive Rock

Active Years: 1997 - present

About:

With a darker and more experimental sound, the band has transcended the boundaries of Visual Kei, gaining an international fan base. Songs like "Obscure" and "The Final" have had a massive impact on the Visual Kei scene.

Career Summary:

Starting in 1997 as a more traditional Visual Kei band, Dir en Grey quickly evolved into a group with a darker, more experimental sound. They have toured extensively in Europe and the US, building a global fan base. Albums like "Withering to Death" and "Uroboros" showcase their transition into alternative and progressive metal, solidifying their status as an innovative force in rock music.

2. Kote Kei:

Features: Kote Kei represents the traditional and classic style of Visual Kei. In this subgenre, stage performances and costumes are usually darker and more serious. Black, red, and metallic colors are typically prominent. The fashion consists of costumes that combine both masculine and feminine elements, often with gothic touches.

Examples: X Japan and early Luna Sea can be considered examples of this style.

X Japan

Genre: Heavy Metal, Progressive Rock

Active Years: 1982 - present (with breaks)

About:

Pioneers of Visual Kei and one of the most influential bands in introducing this subculture to the world.

Career Summary:

Formed in 1982 by Yoshiki and Toshi, X Japan is considered the pioneer of the Visual Kei movement. They gained immense popularity in the late 1980s and early 1990s with albums like "Blue Blood" and "Jealousy." After disbanding in 1997, the band reunited in 2007, continuing to perform globally. Their iconic song "Endless Rain" remains a Visual Kei anthem.

Luna Sea ✷

Genre: Rock, Progressive Rock

Active Years: 1989 - present

About:

One of the most influential bands in the Japanese rock scene, known for their softer and more melodic sound. Popular tracks include "Rosier" and "I for You."

Career Summary:

Formed in 1989, Luna Sea became a key figure in the Visual Kei scene. Their music blends melodic rock with progressive elements. They disbanded in 2000 but reunited in 2010 and have since continued to release new music and tour. Albums like "Mother" and "Shine" are iconic in their discography, and they remain a favorite in Japan's rock history.

3. Oshare Kei:

Features: Oshare Kei is the more cheerful, colorful, and energetic side of Visual Kei. In this subgenre, the clothing is generally in pastel tones, stylish, fun, and sometimes "kawaii" (cute). The music is lighter, energetic, and sometimes contains pop-rock elements. The stage performances focus more on fun than visual aesthetics.

Examples: Bands like An Cafe and SCREW can be considered examples of this subgenre.

An Cafe

Genre: Oshare Kei, Pop Rock

Active Years: 2003 - 2019 (with breaks)

About:

An Cafe (Antic Cafe) is one of the most well-known Oshare Kei bands, famous for their colorful and cheerful style. Their songs are often fun, energetic, and positive. Fans of the group are called "Cafekko."

Career Summary:

An Cafe debuted in 2003 and became a leader of the Oshare Kei movement in the mid-2000s. After a hiatus in 2010, they returned in 2012 but announced their disbandment in 2019, concluding with a farewell tour.

SCREW

Genre: Oshare Kei, Alternative Metal, Visual Kei

Active Years: 2006 - 2019

About:

SCREW is one of the heavier and darker Oshare Kei bands. Their music features emotionally intense lyrics combined with powerful riffs and melodic elements.

Career Summary:

Founded in 2006 by Byou and Jin, SCREW became a prominent name in the Visual Kei scene during the early 2010s. They disbanded in 2019 after 13 years.

4. Angura Kei:

Features: Angura Kei is a subgenre deeply connected to Japanese culture. This style blends traditional Japanese clothing (such as kimonos, samurai attire, etc.) with modern Vkei aesthetics. It is often inspired by Japanese history and culture.

Examples: Kagrra, and some older songs by PSYCHIC LOVER can be examples of this style.

Kagrra

Genre: Angura Kei, Neo-Japanese Rock

Active Years: 2000 - 2011

About:

Kagrra, is a standout band in the Angura Kei subgenre. Their music blends traditional Japanese instruments and melodies with modern rock and Visual Kei aesthetics. Their lyrics often draw inspiration from Japanese mythology, folklore, and history. Stage costumes frequently incorporate traditional Japanese styles like kimono and samurai themes.

Career Summary:

Debuting in 2000 as "CROW," they soon changed their name to "Kagrra,." The band disbanded in 2011, releasing their final album, "Hyakki Kenran." Tragically, vocalist Isshi passed away the same year. The group is considered a pioneer in fusing Japanese culture with modern music.

PSYCHIC LOVER

Genre: Rock, Anisong (Anime Songs), Angura Kei

Active Years: 1998 - present

About:

PSYCHIC LOVER is a well-known name in Japan’s anisong scene, particularly for their work on anime and tokusatsu (Japanese sci-fi series) themes. They combine traditional Angura Kei aesthetics with the energy of anisong. Their music is often high-tempo, with powerful vocals and energetic guitar riffs.

Career Summary:

The band rose quickly in the anisong scene in the early 2000s, gaining a dedicated fan base through their work on anime, Super Sentai, and tokusatsu projects. Their stage performances are dynamic and occasionally incorporate Japanese cultural elements in costumes and music videos, nodding to the Angura Kei style.

!!!

Each Vkei subgenre offers a different world in terms of both music and visuals. Simply labeling it as a "gothic stage" is an oversimplification. ☝🏻🤓

We’ve reached the end (╥﹏╥)

I’m finishing here. Honestlyy, if it were up to me, I’d write until morning, but I’m not sure if this will really reach people, so I don’t want to write for no reason. I’ll continue based on the interaction I get. If you have any questions, feel free to reach out to me.

I wish you all healthy days. ♡

Written by: manaberrysoup

[uwmspeccoll]

Typography Tuesday

Today, we complete the initials from Some Examples of the Work of American Designers, edited and arranged by J. M. Bowles. Shown here from top to bottom are:

A - Ralph Fletcher Seymour

C - Walter D. Teague

M - Guernsey Moore

O - Frederic Goudy

P - Charles E. Howell

T - Egbert G. Jacobson

W - Carlton D. Ellinger

Y - Bruce Rogers

Some Examples of the Work of American Designers was printed in Philadelphia by Edward Stern & Co. for Dill & Collins Co. Papermakers in 1918 on thirty styles of paper manufactured by Dill & Collins Co in Philadelphia.

View our previous post on initials from this volume.

View our other Typography Tuesday posts.

[nhlgossips]

hi yes so basically i met him at chipolte hahaha and he was so nice i went up to him and i was nervous but I asked for a picutre and stuff he asked me like how old I was where I went to school and like if I played sports and we talked for a bit super sweet

major fomo rn.

[muzaktomyears]

John, Yoko, Helen and Sean were flying down together, and I was instructed to drive John’s clothes and guitars to Florida in the Mercedes station wagon. As usual when traveling, John agonized until the last minute over what clothes to bring. He always travelled with many suits of clothes, insisting all the while that he would not think of actually going out. I knew how important clothes were to John. He had told me that he had once considered a career as a fashion designer, but in the working-class environment in which he grew up, men involved in the world of fashion were considered “fairies”, and John did not want to risk being stigmatized as a homosexual. He also said that he had thought of becoming a hairdresser, but had abandoned this idea for the same reason. On the day before my scheduled departure, John summoned me to the clothes room, where we spent hours sorting out his Palm Beach wardrobe: summer suits, sports jackets, formal wear, beach clothes, jeans, shorts, sweaters, T-shirts, shirts, ties, hats, boots, shoes, and sneakers. By the time we were done, there were enough clothes to fill a larger steamer trunk. John apologized sheepishly for his neurotic need to have so many clothes and joked that if he had to go to a desert island, he would want to take a full wardrobe with him. Clothes, he said, were his disguise. He knew well that through his clothes and with his hair he could alter his appearance – his image – at will. The thought of being trapped in one image terrified John. He was always at odds with himself about his image: not only what it was and what it should be, but even whether there should be one at all.

John Lennon: Living on Borrowed Time, Frederic Seaman (1991)

[ninja-muse]

2025 Release TBR

🏳️‍🌈 - queer MC     🇨🇦 - Canadian author    ⭐️ - BIPOC MC 📘 - have an ARC bold - new added

The Songbird - Stacy Lynn Miller (historical fiction) - January 7

Adrift in Currents Clean and Clear - Seanan McGuire (fantasy) - January 7

Rebellious Grace - Jeri Westerson (historical mystery) 🏳️‍🌈 - January 7

The Betrayal of Thomas True - A.J. West (historical mystery) 🏳️‍🌈 - January 14

An African History of Africa - Zeinab Badawi (history) ⭐️ - January 14

Haunting and Homicide - Ava Burke (cozy mystery/urban fantasy) - January 21

Emily Wilde's Compendium of Lost Tales - Heather Fawcett (fantasy) 🇨🇦 - February 11

Upon a Starlit Tide - Kell Woods (fantasy) - February 18

Wooing the Witch Queen - Stephanie Burgis (romantasy) - February 18

Greenteeth - Molly O’Neill (fantasy) 🏳️‍🌈 - February 25

The Amber Owl - Juliet Marillier (fantasy) - February 25

Once Was Willem - M.R. Carey (historical fantasy) - March 4

The Boxcar Librarian - Brianna Labuskes (historical fiction) - March 4

Wild Dark Shore - Charlotte McConaghy (cli-fi) 📘- March 4

May Contain Murder - Orlando Murrin (cozy mystery) 🏳️‍🌈 - March 11

The Tomb of Dragons - Katherine Addison (fantasy/mystery) 🏳️‍🌈 - March 11

Installment Immortality - Seanan McGuire (urban fantasy) - March 11

The Duke at Hazard - KJ Charles (historical romance) 🏳️‍🌈 - March 11

Malinalli - Veronica Chapa (historical fiction) ⭐️ 📘- March 11

Alterations - Kate Maruyama (historical fiction) ⭐️ - March 11

What Wakes the Bells - Elle Tesch (YA fantasy) 🇨🇦 - March 11

A Gentleman's Gentleman - TJ Alexander (historical romance) 🏳️‍🌈 - March 11

Love and Other Paradoxes - Catriona Silvey (time travel/romance) 📘- March 11 NDF

The Hymn to Dionysus - Natasha Pulley (fantasy/retelling) 🏳️‍🌈 - March 18

The Buffalo Hunter Hunter - Stephan Graham Jones (horror)⭐️📘 - March 18

The Mesopotamian Riddle - Joshua Hammer (history) - March 18

Aunt Tigress - Emily Yu-Xuan Qin (contemporary fantasy) 🇨🇦🏳️‍🌈 - March 25

Murder by Memory - Olivia Waite (cozy science fiction/mystery) 🏳️‍🌈 - March 18

The Chow Maniac - Vivien Chien (cozy mystery) ⭐️ - April 1

Direct Descendant - Tanya Huff (cozy fantasy/horror) 🇨🇦 🏳️‍🌈 - April 1

Vera Wong’s Guide to Snooping (on a Dead Man) - Jesse Q. Sutanto (cozy mystery) ⭐️ - April 1

The Ashfire King - Chelsea Abdullah (fantasy) ⭐️ - April 15

Saga, Vol. 12 - Brian K. Vaughan and Fiona Staples (graphic science fiction) 🇨🇦 - April 15

Great Big Beautiful Life - Emily Henry (contemporary romance) - April 22

The Lilac People - Milo Todd (historical fiction) 🏳️‍🌈 - April 29

The Road to Tender Hearts - Annie Hartnett (contemporary fiction) - April 29

Overgrowth - Mira Grant (science fiction/horror) - May 6

Austen at Sea - Natalie Jenner (historical fiction) 🇨🇦 📘- May 6

The Country Under Heaven - Frederic S. Durbin (weird western) - May 13

Strange New World - Vivian Shaw (urban fantasy) - May 20

Baking Across America - B. Dylan Hollis (cookbook) 🏳️‍🌈 - May 20

Everybody Wants to Rule the World (Except Me) - Django Wexler (fantasy) 🏳️‍🌈 - May 27

The Grimoire Grammar School Parent Teacher Association - Caitlin Rozakis (comic fantasy) - May 27

Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil - V.E. Schwab (horror/fantasy) 🏳️‍🌈 - June 10

Amelia, if Only - Becky Albertalli (YA contemporary romance) 🏳️‍🌈 - June 10

The Mercy Makers - Tessa Gratton (fantasy) - June 17

A Far Better Thing - H.G. Parry (historical fantasy) - June 17

The Rushworth Family Plot - Claudia Gray (historical mystery) - June 17

Stone and Sky - Ben Aaronovitch (urban fantasy) ⭐️ - July 8

The Frozen People - Elly Griffiths (science fiction/mystery) - July 8

Algospeak - Adam Aleksic (linguistics) - July 15

Mayhem at a Halloween Wedding - Emmeline Duncan (cozy mystery) - July 29

Automatic Noodle - Annalee Newitz (cozy science fiction) - August 5

The Magician of Tiger Castle - Louis Sachar (fantasy) - August 5

Hemlock and Silver - T. Kingfisher (fantasy) - August 19

Women of the Fairy Tale Resistance - Jane Harrington (biography) 📘 - August 19

Katabasis - R.F. Kuang (dark academia/fantasy) - August 26

Boudicca’s Daughter - Elodie Harper (historical fiction) - August 28

Hot Wax - M.L. Rio (fiction) 📘🏳️‍🌈- September 9

The Haunting of William Thorn - Ben Alderton (gothic horror) 🏳️‍🌈 - September 9

A Tangle in Time - Josiah Bancroft (steampunk/mystery) - September 9

Lady Like - Mackenzi Lee (historical romance) 🏳️‍🌈- September 9

The Summer War - Naomi Novik (fantasy) - September 16

Audition for the Fox - Martin Cahill (fantasy) - September 16

Replaceable You - Mary Roach (science) - September 16

Ladies in Hating - Alexandra Vasti (historical romance) 🏳️‍🌈 - September 25

The Gnomes of Lychford - Paul Cornell (contemporary fantasy) - September 25

What Stalks the Deep - T. Kingfisher (horror) 🏳️‍🌈 - September 30

Silver and Lead - Seanan McGuire (urban fantasy) - September 30

Cinder House - Freya Marske (horror/retelling) 🏳️‍🌈 - October 7

The Bakery Dragon and the Fairy Cake - Devin Elle Kurtz (cozy fantasy/picture book) - October 7

He’s So Possessed With Me - Corey Liu (YA horror) 🏳️‍🌈 🇨🇦 - October 14

Kill the Beast - Serra Swift (fantasy) - October 14

Dead & Breakfast - Kat Hillis and Rosiee Thor (cozy mystery) 🏳️‍🌈 - October 14

The Isle in the Silver Sea - Tasha Suri (romantasy) 🏳️‍🌈 - October 21

The Everlasting - Alix E. Harrow (fantasy) - October 25

The Keeper of Magical Things - Julie Leong (cozy fantasy) ⭐️ - November 4

The Great Work - Sheldon Costa (horror) - November 4

Brigands and Breadknives - Travis Baldree (cozy fantasy) - November 11

Audrey Lane Stirs the Pot - Alexis Hall (contemporary romance) 🏳️‍🌈 - December 9