#I had an entire shelf of gay books

[thebisexualwreckoning]

My dad’s in Kolkata right now for reasons (don’t ask me why I’m just as clueless) but he offered to bring me a couple of my books from my old place there and I had to sit here 8938 kms away having to choose between all of my children. What will the rest of them do??? I feel like bad mother choosing between her kids.

[glassamphibians]

first of all. just noticed your ask button's title. insane thank you. second of all. least favorite popular book and first book you remember reading perhaps?

i forgot what my ask button was thank u for making me look at it <3 best bit on dimension 20 <3

- Least favorite popular book right now is probably the sequel to house in the cerulean sea by klune i dont remember the title and i dont want to! this is not because of the actual book idk anything about that its because they sent us so many copies of the first book, the new book, and a bunch of overpriced merch and no one is buying any of it!!! we just keep moving this massive pile of klune dead stock around the store and i am Sick Of It!!!

- I very distinctly remember reading an I Can Read book about a panda family by myself in my room and then racing downstairs to tell my mom bc holy shit!!! i can read for real guys!! and i THINK it was this one

send me book questions !!

[cheyisagirlkisser]

.・College Ellie Headcannons゜・

Note: This is more loser Ellie-centric, I wanna maybe do a part two with just reader and her. Some sexual content and mentions of getting zooted below so 18+ warning!

•Art major, but she’s not the typical hot artsy lesbian you dream of her to be. More like rolls a fat blunt and sketches in her journal, it’ll either turn out to be a masterpiece or look like a crackhead had a go with her paper.

•Speaking of art major, when she’s horny and frustrated because she refuses to hook-up…she draws the lewdest art known to woman-kind. Those are her real masterpieces, but she can’t exactly turn them in for credit in her art class, can she? Fuck, the things that woman can make, though. Lowkey uses her exes naked bodies as inspiration though, maybe kind of weird but who’s gonna stop her?

•Doesn’t eat the food on campus half the time. She is embarrassingly addicted to Tai Pei containers and the occasional microwavable egg-roll. “That shit’s nasty, Ellie! Goddamn, just eat the Tacos 4 Life we have on campus.” Her friends will all tell her, but no. It’s like a guilty pleasure. Maybe it’s cause she grew up lower class and is used to TV dinners, has a special trauma bond to food that should be banned and probably is outside of America.

•Wardrobe consists of band tees, honorable mentions to Gorillaz and Falling in Reverse.

•Is actually an insanely talented writer. After reading her journals I feel like nobody talks about how emotional her entries are and she keeps a journal of her own in college for sure, not only for sketching and organizing art but also to write all her feelings out.

“Fuck me, this is my last year being gay.” -After her and Cat’s break-up, probably.

•Hates coffee. Definitely game-cannon, but this is important to the college setting. It’s the classic Monster or nothing, and she will absolutely judge you for drinking coffee. She calls it “the devil’s dirt.” So dramatic.

•Used to watch bad Hallmark movies because of Dina, now watches them alone because she misses Dina. There’s nothing like crying your eyes out to Christmas Under Wraps!

•Has a collection of rubber ducks on her shelf. Doesn’t use her very small space for normal things like her wallet or books, no. It’s rubber fucking ducks.

•Also has a slipper collection in her tiny closet, from Pikachu all the way to dinosaur feet.

•Has the “two-seater” t-shirt (iykyk) but refuses to wear it in public because she’s a pussy

•Favorite fruit is grapes. I just know my girl loves grapes when she can get her hands on them steer clear bc she will NOT share. Favorite candy is gummy worms!

•Actually wears rain boots when it’s wet outside or snowing

•Likes wired earbuds over airpods, listens to Pearl Jam when she misses living with Joel

•Is oddly good at making those little paper stars and has a huge grocery bag of then in all different patterns and colors

•When she starts dating you she shows you her dinosaur cookie-cutter collection because you're really good at baking. (Also bc she wants to see you in a frilly cute apron!)

•Is a slut for hugs. Kisses are cool, sex is great but agghhh Ellie just loves wrapping her arms around you and sometimes when you two are in her dorm she'll just hug you for what feels like hours on end, she calls it her 'weekly therapy.'

•Loves high sex because when she's sober she hates feeling like she's awkward or all up in her head. She also has a tendency to invite you over for sex after smoking.

•Has a septum piercing. Maybe this one is self-indulgent because I would go ballistic over seeing actual Ellie with one, but I say that college Ellie got hers pierced at 16 and didn't cry over the pain but wanted to literally jump off of a bridge the entire healing process it was so bad.

•Sometimes when you kiss her, her septum will slide over and look uneven and she feels fucking NIGERIA FALLS in her boxers when you fix it for her. Also for those of you who are sluts for glasses, you can fix her glasses too and it'll make her just as weak.

[fratttymatty]

Nathan's Parked

(All characters are 18+)

Nathan Parker had never quite fit in at Westbrook High. He was the kind of guy who spent his lunch breaks huddled in the back corner of the library, buried in books about superheroes or playing online games. He had thick glasses, messy brown hair that he never quite knew what to do with, and an awkward way of talking that made him stand out in the worst possible way. He didn’t have many friends, and his idea of a "good time" was usually just scrolling through fan fiction on his phone or studying for tests he didn't care much about. Nathan had long accepted that he would always be the geeky loner.

And then there was the secret he kept hidden from everyone: Nathan was gay, and while he didn’t mind the solitude, it would have been nice to share his feelings with someone.

But that was a far-off dream, something he'd shoved into the deepest parts of his heart. Who would want someone like him? Especially at a school where the jocks and cheerleaders ruled the social hierarchy, and someone like him was just… invisible.

One afternoon, after a grueling chemistry class, Nathan found himself wandering the aisles of the local drugstore, searching for something—anything—that might make him feel a little less out of place. He was heading to the deodorant section when something unusual caught his eye.

It was a sleek, black can of deodorant sitting alone on a shelf. Eclipse™ it was called, with the tagline: "Unleash your potential."

Nathan chuckled at the marketing slogan. "Sure, right," he muttered. He had no reason to believe that some fancy deodorant could change his life, but he figured it was worth a try. After all, he was desperate enough to give anything a shot.

As he sprayed the deodorant under his arms, a strange tingling sensation washed over him. Nathan shook his head, laughing at himself. Maybe it was some sort of psychological thing, he thought—his imagination running wild. He glanced at himself in the mirror and froze.

His reflection was… different.

His hair—messy and unkempt just moments ago—was now styled into a perfect wavy middle part, dark brown strands flowing effortlessly in a way that seemed entirely new. His face was sharper, more defined, and somehow more… masculine. His eyes no longer looked tired and worn-out but bright and confident. And his posture—his shoulders were broader, his chest fuller—he stood taller, more at ease.

Nathan blinked. Was this some kind of weird trick of the lighting? He reached up to touch his hair, but his fingers only confirmed what he feared: it wasn’t just his imagination. He was different. His clothes had changed too—gone was his oversized graphic tee and cargo shorts. Now, he wore a tight black compression shirt that showed off a toned chest, a sleek grey hoodie, a pair of jeans that fit him perfectly, and a letterman jacket draped casually over his shoulders. His shoes—new white trainers—looked like something right out of a sports magazine.

"Okay," he whispered to himself, "what the hell is going on?"

A sudden movement caught his eye, and when he turned, he saw a group of cheerleaders walking toward him. A few of them—Liana, Amanda, and Jenna—had been in his chemistry class earlier. But they'd never looked his way before. Now, as they approached, their eyes lit up with recognition. Or maybe it was something else… admiration?

"Hey there, Nathan," Liana said with a playful smile. "Wow, you look… different."

Nathan opened his mouth to speak, but his voice was deeper now, smoother, more self-assured. "Yeah, I guess I’ve… changed a little."

Amanda giggled, flicking her blonde hair over her shoulder. "Changed? You look like you’ve had a total makeover or something. I mean, you used to hide behind those glasses and all that—what are you doing now, hitting the gym?"

Nathan tried to think of a reply, but his mind was a little foggy. He didn’t recognize himself anymore, but he couldn’t help but feel good about the attention. He could feel his chest puffing out, his muscles subtly flexing under the tight shirt, as though his body was responding to the change.

"Yeah," he said with a grin that felt more natural than he expected. "I’ve been hitting the gym… working on a few things."

Liana stepped closer, her eyes glinting with interest. "Well, whatever you're doing, it's working. You should come hang out with us at the game this weekend. We’ve got a big pep rally, and it could be fun. You’d fit right in with the team now."

Nathan blinked. Hang out with them? The cheerleaders? He was just a nerdy kid who kept to himself. But the idea of being part of their world—their confident, carefree world—was suddenly too tempting to ignore. He felt a surge of something that felt like excitement. And… pride? A new sense of self-confidence he couldn’t quite explain.

"I’d like that," he said without hesitation, the words coming out effortlessly. "I’ll be there."

The days that followed felt like a whirlwind for Nathan. In a matter of days, he’d gone from being the awkward, socially-inept loner to one of the most talked-about guys at Westbrook High. His new look and newfound swagger made him the center of attention. The cheerleaders treated him like one of their own, and he soon found himself hanging out with them after school, practicing football moves with the jocks, and getting invited to parties where people actually wanted him around.

But the more Nathan embraced his new persona, the more he realized how much he was changing—not just physically, but mentally. He wasn’t the shy, introverted guy anymore. He was Max Hunter, the popular, athletic jock with a cocky attitude to match. His confidence quickly turned to arrogance, and before long, he was acting like the kind of guy he used to despise.

"Yo, check this out," Max said one afternoon, tossing a football up and down in front of his football buddies, Blake and Trevor. "This is how it’s done, alright?" He spun the ball effortlessly in his hands before tossing it across the field, landing it perfectly in Blake’s arms.

Blake threw him a high-five. "Damn, Max, you’ve been killing it lately. You're the new king around here."

Max grinned, his eyes flashing with arrogance. "Damn straight. It’s all about putting in the work and looking good while doing it. Don't know why I wasted all that time reading comics before."

Trevor chuckled, shaking his head. "Man, you’ve changed. But in a good way."

Max gave a half-smirk. "Of course I’ve changed. I’m Max now. I’m not some nerdy little nobody anymore." He ran a hand through his hair, letting the group admire his perfect waves. "And it’s about time the world noticed."

As the week went on, Max’s new life was in full swing. He’d been casually hooking up with pretty much every cheerleader in school. It started with Liana, of course. She was beautiful, confident, and everyone’s idea of the "perfect girl." Max had charmed her with his cocky smile and athletic physique, and within days, they were seeing each other.

But as Max quickly realized, he was no longer someone who got tied down. As soon as Liana wasn’t around, he started flirting with other girls—cheerleaders, mostly—and eventually found himself in a casual, yet thrilling, rotation of hookups. He’d dated and slept with Amanda, Jenna, and even a few girls from rival schools, all while keeping up the pretense of being in a committed relationship with Liana.

The funny thing? They didn’t care. It didn’t matter how many times Max cheated on them—he was Max Hunter, and somehow, that made everything excusable. Each cheerleader, knowing full well about the others, would still smile whenever he showed up to practice, each one thinking she was the one who had his true attention. And Max let them believe it. He was the star of the show, and they were just happy to be along for the ride.

After all, when you looked like he did—when you had the physique, the style, and the swagger—you didn’t need to commit. They all wanted a piece of him, and he was more than happy to oblige.

But as Max looked in the mirror again, something clicked. He wasn’t just Nathan anymore. The person staring back at him—confident, athletic, popular—wasn’t Nathan Parker at all.

He had a new name.

"Max," he whispered, testing the name on his tongue. It felt right. Max Hunter. Strong. Powerful. The kind of guy who everyone knew, and who everyone wanted to know. A jock. The kind of guy who got the girl, the attention, and the respect.

As Max adjusted his letterman jacket and ran his fingers through his perfectly styled hair, he realized something: this wasn’t just a new look. It was a new life.

Maybe, just maybe, this was the person he was always meant to be.

[asexualbookbird]

Ah, I read some books in 2024, huh? And eight rereads? Who am I. Tried a lot of new things this year which yay! Go me! Branching out! Not all of those were successes, but I did it and therefore no one can criticise me. But we all know what's important here. So here you go, THE BEST AND WORST OF 2024 (in no particular order)!

THE BEST BOOKS OF 2024

The Adventure of Amina al-Sirafi by Shannon Chakraborty - yes, I am still thinking about this, thank you for asking! A full entire adult of a person, a mother even, going on adventures? Fighting and killing and fucking and living? Hell yeah! More of this, please! I would also love to see a prequel of Amina's adventures before the book timeline. Everything about this was so great, I look forward to rereading it.

The City We Became by NK Jemisin - I was wary about this because it was so polarizing to readers. On one hand, even my least favorite Jemisin was still fun, on the other hand, I know nothing about New York. HOWEVER. The audiobook was FABULOUS. I wholeheartedly believe the audio is why I enjoyed this so much. This was FUN this is what reading should feel like all the time.

When the Angels Left the Old Country by Sacha Lamb -FRIEND TO MY SOUL. Again, beautiful audio performance. Beautiful story. I need my own copy so I can reread this to my hearts content. It's cute, it deals with heavy topics, it's gay, it's the friend to my soul.

WORST BOOKS OF 2024

The Novice by Taran Matharu - Ugh. Bought when released, knowing nothing, which seems to be a Theme with books sitting on my shelf I end up not enjoying. Learning about the history of this book made me more angry than the book itself. What do you mean his entire series was bought and published without an editor? It shows, but. Come on. Wattpad born and it shows.

Last Heir to Blackwood Library by Hester Fox- this was only for a summer reading bingo challenge, but come on. There are ways to pull the memory loss, or altered memory plot line and have it work. This did not do that. Wish a library would eat my memories of this book so I never had to think of it again.

Red Sister by Mark Lawrence - Mark Lawrence is one of those authors who writes long books because he thinks it makes him a Good Writer. Mark Lawrence is one of those writers who is afraid to write adult characters because he thinks they won't sell, but continuously puts them in adult situations to show how Hard their lives are and Isn't This Dark And Gritty And Sad without doing the work to actually get there. It toes the line between fantasy in scifi, but not well. It feels more indecisive than anything else.

HONORABLE MENTIONS

Firebreak by Nicole Kornher-Stace -more like fireBROKE MY HEART!!!! It was on my tbr list for years, and I finally found a copy and I'm glad I own it so I can reread it at my leisure. It's what Ready Player One could have been if it was actually good.

Godkiller by Hannah Kaner - Okay honestly, this and City were fighting for a spot in the main top three. Either could be there. I do honorable mentions for this very reason. I was surprised to learn this was a tiktok book, because yknow. It's actually Good. Witcher vibes, but with more respect towards women. Why isn't book three in my possession right this second.

Someone You Can Build A Nest In by John Wiswell - I Am Normal About This Book. It was fun to read and annotate it for a friend. It was fun to be around as two friends read it and I loved seeing their reactions to it. Loved cheering on Shesheshen, still think she deserves to eat more people. Friends and I will still share biting goop memes with the caption "Shex3 posting". It's safe to say this has rewritten my brain.

DISHONORABLE MENTIONS

Legacy of Ash by Matthew Ward - I was hyped about this book before release. I bought book two before even reading this because I was that sure I'd enjoy it. What a fool. This did NOT have to be 800 pages. It was another example of someone writing many words because they think that's what Good Writers Do, and not stopping to think about what those words even SAY. Which, in this case, was ~Absolutely Nothing~

Ghost Station by SA Barnes - crying sobbing this book was so fucking stupid. Best thing to come out of it was seeing a friend read it and confirming that yes, it was That Fucking Stupid. Learning the author mainly writes YA Paranormal explained why everyone had Too Stupid To Live disease.

I'm Afraid You've Got Dragons by Peter S Beagle - Admittedly only here to make things even and because it's still pretty fresh in my mind. I was soooo excited when this was announced, and now I'm soooo happy I didn't preorder it. More boring than anything else, but I don't wish it was longer because it already felt Too Long.

Once again, ignored rereads because I feel like that's cheating somehow. Let these be for highlighting new and fun books I discovered! I feel like the last few Bricks I've read have been Very Bad so I hope a couple of the bricks I have planned for 2025 are actually good. Considering one of those is Labyrinth's Heart, I think we're okay.

[sabbathbloodysabbeth]

I wrote this a while ago but I fell back onto it while I was warming up on writing and decided to revise it and post it on ao3!

Ao3 link

Eddie skimmed the books on the shelf in front of him, there was no use in trying to find one he was interested in. He would forget about it somewhere in his room anyway and choose one of the Lord of the Rings books to read again. Instead, he lets himself wander through his thoughts, lost in some random DnD scenario he had made up that involved him fighting a group of dragons. Letting his body go on autopilot as his fingers gently brush the spines of every book in his reach mindlessly. He furrowed his eyebrows as he made a mental note to include this scenario in one of his campaigns later. He was sure the boys would enjoy it, especially Gareth, who had anger issues and loved releasing some of that energy onto a fictional dragon.

He should be in gym class, but he isn’t. The consequences of skipping were far better than those of actually showing up. The last time he went (over a month ago now) he ended up walking out with a chipped tooth and black eye. And he can’t forget about the bruised ego. That hurt worse than being hit in the face. Physical Pain he could handle, but his poor innocent ego could not handle the abuse.

Walking at the end of one aisle, he carefully turns and moves himself into the next. He prepares to loop through the next aisle but nearly jumps out of his skin when he almost falls over another person sitting down with their back pressed to the shelf.

A croak-like noise comes out of the back of his throat as he nearly tumbles face-first into the carpet. He stumbles forward a bit and catches his balance on the shelf to the left of him. His heart races as he secretly prays to everything holy that he didn’t somehow knock the entire shelf over. That would be his luck and land him in an infinite amount of after-school detention.

“Jesus H Christ.” He spits out, a hand pressed against his chest as he dramatically breathes heavier than normal purposely putting on a show for whoever nearly killed him. Turning around to face the culprit he jumps back again startled.

Sitting, pretty pathetically Eddie would say, was a beat-up Steve Harrington. Who looked like a horror movie had a crossover with reality. His eyes, or singular eye, were glossed over and wide as he started stuttering over his words.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to trip you up like that.” Steve visibly cringes at his words, as if he was also aware he seemed pathetic. If that's not the case, Eddie would assume Steve had been cringing at his words slurring together. That was the only logical answer as there was no way Steve Harrington was cringing at him.

“Eh- it’s alright. Not the first time a king has tried taking me out.” He grins, before faltering a bit as he remembers that the other wouldn’t understand that he was referencing DnD and not something gay. But for all, Eddie knew Steve probably correlated Dnd with weird faggots anyway.

He begins to walk away, wanting the awkward interaction to be over so that he can move on and cringe at the whole situation on a random night in the future. But he can’t help but be a bit nosy as his eyes glance down at the book in Steve’s lap. It probably had been open at one point, but it was now closed and Eddie is secretly thankful he can read upside down.

“Head injuries huh?” He points out. “Didn’t take you for a reader King Steve.” He drags the other’s name out a bit longer than he has to as he crosses his arms over his chest and cocks a hip out. He has an unreadable smile, his teeth showing in a weak attempt at being somewhat civil with the other, but he still wanted to have his guard up just in case.

He didn’t personally enjoy talking with asshole jocks, but what he did like was to know some things. He liked having some lore for the people around him for backup reasons aka blackmail.

“I’m not.” Steve snorts as he lifts the book. “Just trying to do some research, I don’t know if you have eyes but my face is pretty smashed in right now.” He retorts back with a little bit of sass. Eddie notes how his words slur like he is drunk. Eddie could spot a drunk anywhere and Steve Harrington seemed a hundred percent sober and fully aware of his surroundings. (Besides the possibility of tripping someone up by sitting on the corner of a damn shelf but that is beside the point)

Furrowing his eyebrows, just a bit concerned he doesn’t let up the banter. He purposely forces his eyelids open with one hand and jokingly presses a fingertip against his eye before pulling back. Blinking the tears out of his slightly agitated right eye he brings two thumbs up and comments, “We are in the clear I, Eddie Munson, let the record show, have eyeballs.” He grins dramatically.

“Want a gold star for that poncho.” Steve snorts not wasting a second to retort in response to the other as he shakes his head amused. His body tenses up a bit as he goes pale for a moment, squeezing his eyes shut with shaky breaths as his fists tighten around the book he is holding.

“Yes I do in fact want a gold star-” Eddie mumbles out gently, face scrunching up a bit more worried now as he moves his crossed arms off his chest and takes a few steps closer to the other.

“Hey Harrington, you alright? You don’t seem like your typical charming self.” He comments as he hesitates for a moment before he crouches down. He makes sure to leave a few inches between the two of them, far enough to not be to close but close enough to catch the other if he slumped over.

Steve gives a weak nod of his head before he adjusts himself. “Yeah- just moved my head too much. Happens sometimes you know?” He chuckles gently. Eddie did not know what he meant, didn't know how to respond, and when he didn't know how to react he normally shot off an awkward quip or two.

“Oh thank god, you were looking a little green. I Was worried you were about to hulk out on me buddy.” Eddie jokes a little, trying to lighten the mood a bit. He then lifts his hand and runs one of his rings against the bottom of his lip (a nervous tic of his) before glancing back down at the book.

“Find anything good in there, or are you just holding it for show?” Eddie asks gently, trying to come off a bit more teasing rather than concerned. The longer he stayed around this guy the more he was convinced that he needed to get the book read ASAP.

Steve snorts again, sounding a bit stressed as he nearly shakes his head no again but stops himself before making that mistake again. “No, couldn’t even make it through the first page without wanting to throw up.” He groans as he quickly adds. “Not because I don’t want to read it, it’s just the words won’t sit still and it hurts my eyes which then hurts my head.” He groans as he opens his eyes back up fully and looks down at the book with a little huff. Where Eddie was crouched he could see the other boy's eyes watering.

“Could always get a nerd to do your homework for you,” Eddie jokes, slightly hinting towards Wheeler. “Heard that girlfriend of yours had a decent brain on her, she seems like the type to understand that you’ll need help.” He tilts his head to the side as he looks at the other.

Steve makes a noise that Eddie can’t even place, it sounds like the mixture of a laugh and a snort combined. “Can’t, I’m pretty sure she cheated on me with Byers and wants nothing to do with me now. And I don’t want to feel any more stupid around her.” He mumbles the last sentence out.

Eddie looks a bit surprised, he hadn’t taken Mrs Priss to be a cheater. He furrows his eyebrows again in thought. “If you give me a twenty I’ll read that book for you and try answering any questions you have.” He spits it out before he can fully think about it. He was an impulsive person who didn't like seeing people struggle what could he say?

But Eddie didn’t want to seem completely like a sweetheart to the other as he still had doubts about the other. Plus he had to keep up the image he had going on or people wouldn’t take him seriously during deals around here. And he didn’t want to ruin said image by helping Steve Harrington of all people.

Steve squints his good eye at Eddie suspiciously, “I’ll pay you a hundred if you don’t mention this to anybody else.” Good, at least Eddie wasn't the only skeptic here.

Even though he was very skeptical Eddie still felt a little shitty for doing this but an image had to be kept and money had to be made somehow.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Harrington.” His grin isn’t fully authentic as he takes the book from the other before he does a playful salute and stands up fully. he hesitates for a moment longer tempted to ask the other if he needs help from the nurse but Eddie decides he is already giving enough charity as is and begins back on his path of slaying dragons and saving damsels in distress.

[szoot]

I. Between the Bookshelves

Daniela Dimitrescu x Fem! Reader

Warnings: suggestive, hair pulling, uhhh gay???

You leaned your back against the heavy mahogany door of the library, opening it with a soft creak. You winced. Ideally, you would just sneak in, return the books the youngest Dimitrescu had carelessly left around the castle, and sneak back out. Hopefully, Daniela would be too absorbed in her story to even notice you.

Fat chance, considering how the squeaky door hinges had practically announced your arrival.

You entered the library, adjusting the books in your hands to keep them from falling. The door fell shut behind you, the gentle click of the doorknob enough to draw the woman's attention to you. You mentally groaned.

It's not that you didn't like Daniela, quite the opposite, actually. You found her endearing, energetic and charming in a way that only Daniela could be. However, you had lots of work to do today, and she was sure to cling to your side.

As you walked into the library, a low buzzing sound began to build behind you, slowly morphing from the hum of flies to Daniela's giggle.

"Little lamb!" She swarmed up behind you, possibly too close to be proper. Her voice followed close behind you as you made your way between shelves. "Did you come to visit me?"

"You wish," you mumbled bluntly, sliding a book into place on the shelf. "Just cleaning up your mess, as usual."

She pouted, giving you her best kicked-puppy expression. "So mean. I spent all day leaving books everywhere, just for you!" She giggled, following you to the next aisle of shelves. She plucked a book from the stack in your hands, idly thumbing through the pages as she watched you. "It worked! It led you right to me!"

You rolled your eyes with a scoff, but it didn't hide the smile that tugged at the corner of your lips. Of course, she had done that on purpose. You took the book back from her, putting it back in its place on the shelf.

"How charming, making my job harder..." You teased, turning from Daniela and walking the other direction. You knelt down to slide a book on a lower shelf, and when you rose, Daniela had positioned herself entirely too close.

"Because I missed you, cutie," she hummed, a smug smile on her face, quite obviously proud that her plan had worked. She reached out to boop your nose.

You wrinkled your nose at her, pretending to be annoyed. Something about her made it hard to be upset with her for long. She followed close behind you, her flies purring happily. It was cute, but only a little tiny bit.

"Stay and read with me!" She toyed with a strand of your hair as you reshelved books. "You've been working for like... forever! I'm bored! And I missed you!"

You sighed softly. "I missed you too, Dani. but I'm busy right now." You stretched up to your tippy toes to try and push the last book into place.

Dani patted you on the head as you struggled, reaching up to poke the book into the shelf. She giggled. "Shorty..."

You glared up at her, but she only beamed back. She was smiling like she just said the joke that killed the dinosaurs or something, and it was infuriatingly cute.

You sighed, turning to walk away from Daniela and hopefully return to work, but the red head had other plans. She wrapped an arm around your waist, pushing your back against the bookshelf with a playful smirk on her lips.

"You're staying with me," she purred, her voice soft but demanding. She gazed at you with a look that made your stomach do flips, an involuntary blush creeping across your cheeks. She giggled contently.

"I- uhm..." you stuttered helplessly, only making Dani's smirk widen. She leaned forward a little more, her hands gripping your waist tightly.

"You're so damn cute when you're nervous!" She hooked her fingers under your belt, dragging you closer to her. "So cute..." She buried her face in your neck, giggling at the way you sighed when her breath hit your neck.

She let her hands wander up your back, her soft lips planting a gentle kiss to the corner of your jaw. She leaned back, her eyes full of affection. She smiled charmingly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "So, little lamb... stay with me for a while?"

You couldn't help but smile, your hands grazing iver her broad shoulders as you nodded. "Yeah... I'll stay..."

Before any other words could escape your lips, her mouth crashed against yours. Her lips were slow but intense, her hands desperately pulling you closer as you melted into her. Her hands found your hair, tugging lightly to drag soft whimpers from you. She smiled against your lips, leaning against you to pin you to the bookshelf.

There was no escaping now, but escape was the last thing on your mind.

Her kisses grew hungry, a soft growl escaping her lips as you dug your nails into her shoulders. The sound itself was so attractive that you found yourself clawing lightly at her neck to draw more growls from her throat.

Her lips began to explore your jaw and neck, hot, wet kisses that made you moan helplessly. You panted softly into her ear, fueling her desire for you. She sucked on your neck, leaving a hickey for everyone else to see. You were hers.

Her hands wandered lower, towards your hips, leaving a trail of fire everywhere they traveled. The hot drag of her tongue on your bottom lip begged for entrance, and she moaned as you let her tongue slide against yours.

You pulled at her hair, her body pressing you harder into the bookshelf as she groaned. Her hand teased you through your pants, her featherlight touches making you whine into her mouth.

She pulled back, a mischievous smile on her face. You panted softly, hands pulling at her, practically begging her to keep kissing you, touching you. She leaned close, her voice a sultry whisper in your ear.

"You'll come visit me more often now, won't you, lamb?" She gave your hips one final squeeze, smirking and giggling as she swarmed away, leaving you wet and bothered between the bookshelves.

The hum of her flies faded away, but your desire for her touch only grew... and now she had you wrapped around her finger.

[lesmisletters-daily]

Works Corresponding To Words

Les Mis Letters reading club explores one chapter of Les Misérables every day. Join us on Discord, Substack - or share your thoughts right here on tumblr - today's tag is #lm 1.1.4

His conversation was gay and affable. He put himself on a level with the two old women who had passed their lives beside him. When he laughed, it was the laugh of a schoolboy. Madame Magloire liked to call him Your Grace [<i>Votre Grandeur</i>]. One day he rose from his armchair, and went to his library in search of a book. This book was on one of the upper shelves. As the bishop was rather short of stature, he could not reach it. “Madame Magloire,” said he, “fetch me a chair. My greatness [<i>grandeur</i>] does not reach as far as that shelf.”

One of his distant relatives, Madame la Comtesse de Lô, rarely allowed an opportunity to escape of enumerating, in his presence, what she designated as “the expectations” of her three sons. She had numerous relatives, who were very old and near to death, and of whom her sons were the natural heirs. The youngest of the three was to receive from a grandaunt a good hundred thousand livres of income; the second was the heir by entail to the title of the Duke, his uncle; the eldest was to succeed to the peerage of his grandfather. The Bishop was accustomed to listen in silence to these innocent and pardonable maternal boasts. On one occasion, however, he appeared to be more thoughtful than usual, while Madame de Lô was relating once again the details of all these inheritances and all these “expectations.” She interrupted herself impatiently: “Mon Dieu, cousin! What are you thinking about?” “I am thinking,” replied the Bishop, “of a singular remark, which is to be found, I believe, in St. Augustine,—‘Place your hopes in the man from whom you do not inherit.’”

At another time, on receiving a notification of the decease of a gentleman of the country-side, wherein not only the dignities of the dead man, but also the feudal and noble qualifications of all his relatives, spread over an entire page: “What a stout back Death has!” he exclaimed. “What a strange burden of titles is cheerfully imposed on him, and how much wit must men have, in order thus to press the tomb into the service of vanity!”

He was gifted, on occasion, with a gentle raillery, which almost always concealed a serious meaning. In the course of one Lent, a youthful vicar came to D——, and preached in the cathedral. He was tolerably eloquent. The subject of his sermon was charity. He urged the rich to give to the poor, in order to avoid hell, which he depicted in the most frightful manner of which he was capable, and to win paradise, which he represented as charming and desirable. Among the audience there was a wealthy retired merchant, who was somewhat of a usurer, named M. Géborand, who had amassed two millions in the manufacture of coarse cloth, serges, and woollen galloons. Never in his whole life had M. Géborand bestowed alms on any poor wretch. After the delivery of that sermon, it was observed that he gave a sou every Sunday to the poor old beggar-women at the door of the cathedral. There were six of them to share it. One day the Bishop caught sight of him in the act of bestowing this charity, and said to his sister, with a smile, “There is M. Géborand purchasing paradise for a sou.”

When it was a question of charity, he was not to be rebuffed even by a refusal, and on such occasions he gave utterance to remarks which induced reflection. Once he was begging for the poor in a drawing-room of the town; there was present the Marquis de Champtercier, a wealthy and avaricious old man, who contrived to be, at one and the same time, an ultra-royalist and an ultra-Voltairian. This variety of man has actually existed. When the Bishop came to him, he touched his arm, <i>“You must give me something, M. le Marquis.”</i> The Marquis turned round and answered dryly, <i>“I have poor people of my own, Monseigneur.” “Give them to me,”</i> replied the Bishop.

One day he preached the following sermon in the cathedral:—

“My very dear brethren, my good friends, there are thirteen hundred and twenty thousand peasants’ dwellings in France which have but three openings; eighteen hundred and seventeen thousand hovels which have but two openings, the door and one window; and three hundred and forty-six thousand cabins besides which have but one opening, the door. And this arises from a thing which is called the tax on doors and windows. Just put poor families, old women and little children, in those buildings, and behold the fevers and maladies which result! Alas! God gives air to men; the law sells it to them. I do not blame the law, but I bless God. In the department of the Isère, in the Var, in the two departments of the Alpes, the Hautes, and the Basses, the peasants have not even wheelbarrows; they transport their manure on the backs of men; they have no candles, and they burn resinous sticks, and bits of rope dipped in pitch. That is the state of affairs throughout the whole of the hilly country of Dauphiné. They make bread for six months at one time; they bake it with dried cow-dung. In the winter they break this bread up with an axe, and they soak it for twenty-four hours, in order to render it eatable. My brethren, have pity! behold the suffering on all sides of you!”

Born a Provençal, he easily familiarized himself with the dialect of the south. He said, <i>“En bé! moussu, sés sagé?”</i> as in lower Languedoc; <i>“Onté anaras passa?”</i> as in the Basses-Alpes; <i>“Puerte un bouen moutu embe un bouen fromage grase,”</i> as in upper Dauphiné. This pleased the people extremely, and contributed not a little to win him access to all spirits. He was perfectly at home in the thatched cottage and in the mountains. He understood how to say the grandest things in the most vulgar of idioms. As he spoke all tongues, he entered into all hearts.

Moreover, he was the same towards people of the world and towards the lower classes. He condemned nothing in haste and without taking circumstances into account. He said, “Examine the road over which the fault has passed.”

Being, as he described himself with a smile, an <i>ex-sinner</i>, he had none of the asperities of austerity, and he professed, with a good deal of distinctness, and without the frown of the ferociously virtuous, a doctrine which may be summed up as follows:—

“Man has upon him his flesh, which is at once his burden and his temptation. He drags it with him and yields to it. He must watch it, check it, repress it, and obey it only at the last extremity. There may be some fault even in this obedience; but the fault thus committed is venial; it is a fall, but a fall on the knees which may terminate in prayer.

“To be a saint is the exception; to be an upright man is the rule. Err, fall, sin if you will, but be upright.

“The least possible sin is the law of man. No sin at all is the dream of the angel. All which is terrestrial is subject to sin. Sin is a gravitation.”

When he saw everyone exclaiming very loudly, and growing angry very quickly, “Oh! oh!” he said, with a smile; “to all appearance, this is a great crime which all the world commits. These are hypocrisies which have taken fright, and are in haste to make protest and to put themselves under shelter.”

He was indulgent towards women and poor people, on whom the burden of human society rest. He said, “The faults of women, of children, of the feeble, the indigent, and the ignorant, are the fault of the husbands, the fathers, the masters, the strong, the rich, and the wise.”

He said, moreover, “Teach those who are ignorant as many things as possible; society is culpable, in that it does not afford instruction gratis; it is responsible for the night which it produces. This soul is full of shadow; sin is therein committed. The guilty one is not the person who has committed the sin, but the person who has created the shadow.”

It will be perceived that he had a peculiar manner of his own of judging things: I suspect that he obtained it from the Gospel.

One day he heard a criminal case, which was in preparation and on the point of trial, discussed in a drawing-room. A wretched man, being at the end of his resources, had coined counterfeit money, out of love for a woman, and for the child which he had had by her. Counterfeiting was still punishable with death at that epoch. The woman had been arrested in the act of passing the first false piece made by the man. She was held, but there were no proofs except against her. She alone could accuse her lover, and destroy him by her confession. She denied; they insisted. She persisted in her denial. Thereupon an idea occurred to the attorney for the crown. He invented an infidelity on the part of the lover, and succeeded, by means of fragments of letters cunningly presented, in persuading the unfortunate woman that she had a rival, and that the man was deceiving her. Thereupon, exasperated by jealousy, she denounced her lover, confessed all, proved all.

The man was ruined. He was shortly to be tried at Aix with his accomplice. They were relating the matter, and each one was expressing enthusiasm over the cleverness of the magistrate. By bringing jealousy into play, he had caused the truth to burst forth in wrath, he had educed the justice of revenge. The Bishop listened to all this in silence. When they had finished, he inquired,—

“Where are this man and woman to be tried?”

“At the Court of Assizes.”

He went on, “And where will the advocate of the crown be tried?”

A tragic event occurred at D—— A man was condemned to death for murder. He was a wretched fellow, not exactly educated, not exactly ignorant, who had been a mountebank at fairs, and a writer for the public. The town took a great interest in the trial. On the eve of the day fixed for the execution of the condemned man, the chaplain of the prison fell ill. A priest was needed to attend the criminal in his last moments. They sent for the curé. It seems that he refused to come, saying, “That is no affair of mine. I have nothing to do with that unpleasant task, and with that mountebank: I, too, am ill; and besides, it is not my place.” This reply was reported to the Bishop, who said, <i>“Monsieur le Curé is right: it is not his place; it is mine.”</i>

He went instantly to the prison, descended to the cell of the “mountebank,” called him by name, took him by the hand, and spoke to him. He passed the entire day with him, forgetful of food and sleep, praying to God for the soul of the condemned man, and praying the condemned man for his own. He told him the best truths, which are also the most simple. He was father, brother, friend; he was bishop only to bless. He taught him everything, encouraged and consoled him. The man was on the point of dying in despair. Death was an abyss to him. As he stood trembling on its mournful brink, he recoiled with horror. He was not sufficiently ignorant to be absolutely indifferent. His condemnation, which had been a profound shock, had, in a manner, broken through, here and there, that wall which separates us from the mystery of things, and which we call life. He gazed incessantly beyond this world through these fatal breaches, and beheld only darkness. The Bishop made him see light.

On the following day, when they came to fetch the unhappy wretch, the Bishop was still there. He followed him, and exhibited himself to the eyes of the crowd in his purple camail and with his episcopal cross upon his neck, side by side with the criminal bound with cords.

He mounted the tumbril with him, he mounted the scaffold with him. The sufferer, who had been so gloomy and cast down on the preceding day, was radiant. He felt that his soul was reconciled, and he hoped in God. The Bishop embraced him, and at the moment when the knife was about to fall, he said to him: “God raises from the dead him whom man slays; he whom his brothers have rejected finds his Father once more. Pray, believe, enter into life: the Father is there.” When he descended from the scaffold, there was something in his look which made the people draw aside to let him pass. They did not know which was most worthy of admiration, his pallor or his serenity. On his return to the humble dwelling, which he designated, with a smile, as <i>his palace</i>, he said to his sister, <i>“I have just officiated pontifically.”</i>

Since the most sublime things are often those which are the least understood, there were people in the town who said, when commenting on this conduct of the Bishop, <i>“It is affectation.”</i>

This, however, was a remark which was confined to the drawing-rooms. The populace, which perceives no jest in holy deeds, was touched, and admired him.

As for the Bishop, it was a shock to him to have beheld the guillotine, and it was a long time before he recovered from it.

In fact, when the scaffold is there, all erected and prepared, it has something about it which produces hallucination. One may feel a certain indifference to the death penalty, one may refrain from pronouncing upon it, from saying yes or no, so long as one has not seen a guillotine with one’s own eyes: but if one encounters one of them, the shock is violent; one is forced to decide, and to take part for or against. Some admire it, like de Maistre; others execrate it, like Beccaria. The guillotine is the concretion of the law; it is called <i>vindicate</i>; it is not neutral, and it does not permit you to remain neutral. He who sees it shivers with the most mysterious of shivers. All social problems erect their interrogation point around this chopping-knife. The scaffold is a vision. The scaffold is not a piece of carpentry; the scaffold is not a machine; the scaffold is not an inert bit of mechanism constructed of wood, iron and cords.

It seems as though it were a being, possessed of I know not what sombre initiative; one would say that this piece of carpenter’s work saw, that this machine heard, that this mechanism understood, that this wood, this iron, and these cords were possessed of will. In the frightful meditation into which its presence casts the soul the scaffold appears in terrible guise, and as though taking part in what is going on. The scaffold is the accomplice of the executioner; it devours, it eats flesh, it drinks blood; the scaffold is a sort of monster fabricated by the judge and the carpenter, a spectre which seems to live with a horrible vitality composed of all the death which it has inflicted.

Therefore, the impression was terrible and profound; on the day following the execution, and on many succeeding days, the Bishop appeared to be crushed. The almost violent serenity of the funereal moment had disappeared; the phantom of social justice tormented him. He, who generally returned from all his deeds with a radiant satisfaction, seemed to be reproaching himself. At times he talked to himself, and stammered lugubrious monologues in a low voice. This is one which his sister overheard one evening and preserved: “I did not think that it was so monstrous. It is wrong to become absorbed in the divine law to such a degree as not to perceive human law. Death belongs to God alone. By what right do men touch that unknown thing?”

In course of time these impressions weakened and probably vanished. Nevertheless, it was observed that the Bishop thenceforth avoided passing the place of execution.

M. Myriel could be summoned at any hour to the bedside of the sick and dying. He did not ignore the fact that therein lay his greatest duty and his greatest labor. Widowed and orphaned families had no need to summon him; he came of his own accord. He understood how to sit down and hold his peace for long hours beside the man who had lost the wife of his love, of the mother who had lost her child. As he knew the moment for silence he knew also the moment for speech. Oh, admirable consoler! He sought not to efface sorrow by forgetfulness, but to magnify and dignify it by hope. He said:—

“Have a care of the manner in which you turn towards the dead. Think not of that which perishes. Gaze steadily. You will perceive the living light of your well-beloved dead in the depths of heaven.” He knew that faith is wholesome. He sought to counsel and calm the despairing man, by pointing out to him the resigned man, and to transform the grief which gazes upon a grave by showing him the grief which fixes its gaze upon a star.

[16sydd16]

cadina arranged marriage au

For this ask game!!

Cadina Arranged Marriage!AU

Regina's part of a very prominent, very powerful family. She's grown up with the understanding that her marriage would be nothing more than a business merger, much like her parents' marriage. She figures she'll marry some businessman's son for a few years, then divorce him, and hopefully, increase her net worth. A wrench is thrown into her plan when her father informs her of the woman she's meant to marry: one Cady Heron, an up-and-coming tech mogul's only child. "How did you know I was gay?" She asks. "Your... disdain for men is palpable, darling," her father says with a good-natured smile. "Also, you used to play wedding with all of your little girlfriends." "Kids do stuff like that all the time." "True," Geoff says, his smile growing. "But the one with long hair in all pink doesn't usually insist on being the groom every single time." Regina's nose scrunches in an embarrassed smile. "Well, alright then." "I think you'll like her," Geoff says, trying to shoot his daughter a reassuring smile.

Unlike Regina George, Cady Heron always expected to marry for love. When her mother springs it on her at a gala that she's to marry a stuck-up billionaire's daughter, Cady doesn't take it well. She runs down the first hallway she finds, quickly getting turned around in this massive estate. She ends up in an office of sorts, on a couch with her shoes off and a book from a nearby shelf in her hand, squinting down at the off-white pages. "Bit hard to read in the dark," a voice says, scaring her shitless. Cady drops the book with a loud whack and quickly locates the woman the voice belongs to. She's stepping out from behind the bookshelf, which is currently open. Apparently, it's some sort of door. "I'm sorry. I didn't—didn't mean to barge in." "Not exactly polite to go snooping through someone's house," the blonde woman says, clicking on a soft light. Cady's immediately struck by her beauty. Those eyes... "I wasn't snooping." "Uh huh," the woman says with a slow smile, like she doesn't believe her. Cady definitely doesn't notice the fullness of her bottom lip, or the little clusters of freckles on her exposed shoulders, or the absolutely adorable way her nose scrunches when she catches Cady staring. "I wasn't," Cady insists, only making herself sound guiltier. "I just... needed to get away for a little while." The woman nods, gently perching on the opposite arm of the couch. She clasps her hands over her crossed knees. "D'you wanna talk about it?"

It's two weeks before they see one another again. Cady had spilled her reason for running to Regina, and Regina had listened sympathetically, moving closer to Cady so she could pat her hand and arm to offer comfort. Regina hadn't known for sure if Cady was the girl she was meant to marry, but she had her suspicions. There aren't many lesbian marriages being arranged, even in her world. Cady is entirely shocked to see that Regina is the woman she'll be marrying. She feels betrayed that Regina didn't tell her, and she refuses to look at her until Regina asks her to take a walk about the courtyard.

The first night they spend together is at Cady's little apartment. Regina offers to sleep on the couch, but Cady says her bed is big enough for the both of them. When they wake up completely tangled together in the morning, no one is mad about it. Cady thinks Regina's nose scrunch is even cuter when her eyes are all sleepy and unfocused. Regina thinks Cady's hair looks like molten gold in the bright morning light.

Cady has a crisis, thinking about how an arranged marriage is the only way she could land someone like Regina. She becomes unable to tell what's real and what's not, unable to trust Regina's actions. Does she wipe Cady's tears after a hard conversation with her mother because she cares about Cady, or is it just because she really needs this business merger to go through? Does she love Cady, or is Regina just trying to make the 30 under 30?

This is both too long and long overdue, I'm sorry. I hope you enjoyed it anyway. Thanks so much for the ask!!

[transmutationisms]

last night i was in the kind of bookstore that has a prison abolition shelf but also moves a lot of copies of malcolm gladwell and prominently displays the john oliver children's book accusing mike pence's pet rabbit of being gay. anyway so i was thumbing through dean karnazes's extremely egotistical ultramarathoner inspirational memoir book and he SAYS that during his first western states he experienced his vision going photo-negative before going out entirely, which is something i used to experience when i smoked a lot of weed and which nobody else has ever said they had also experienced. and the explanation he gives for it is horseshit i'm pretty sure so that's really annoying but like isn't it funny that he's citing this as like proof of how tough and masculine he was for running 100 miles like sure dude or you could just push your body to the absolute limits by doing bong rips in an overcrowded dorm room at 1am. apparently

[frog-mad]

a bit about me <3

just a boy who lives in wales (grew up in essex tho) who just so happens to be gay. this blog is generally going to be about me, my day to day life, and experiences just a little heads up. i also have many many interests seeing as im insanely cool and niche and indie and underground, which ill proceed to list in the following as im sure everyone reading this is DYING to know more about me:

FILMS

i am an absolute enjoyer of films or really any media as a matter of fact. some of my favourite films include, 500 days of summer, call me by your name, the perks of being a wallflower, and ladybird. as you can tell from this variety im a sucker for soppy sad films which will probably make me cry and send me into a pit of despair! but its okay thats what makes watching them fun. in a way i think i live vicariously through them.

TV SHOWS

i also indulge in many tv shows as well, my favourite being the big bang theory, but a close runner up is gossip girl. i love making notes on the things i watch as well. currently im watching yellowjackets and i love writing down the things i notice and my predictions for the directions itll take in upcoming episodes.

MUSIC

please follow me on spotify you wont regret it, i adore listening to music and had 66k minutes on my wrapped last year (really cool ik) and my favourite artists is a band called wallows. my favourite song is calling after me by wallows (shocker) but i also enjoy many other artists like chappell roan, tv girl, beabadoobee, mac demarco, sufjan stevens, these are just a few to give you guys the vibe but i adore music of this sort.

BOOKS

another one of my many hobbies includes reading (highly intellectual i must say). my favourite book is ill give you the sun by jandy nelson because it never fails to hit emotionally, currently i have about 50 books sitting on my "to be read" shelf as any avid reader would, and i keep saying ill get onto them eventually, knowing that ill probably just keep buying books and adding to the everylasting pile.

ART

i draw well i'd like to say. i took art gcse and it did infact make me want to jump because of my god awful teacher but its okay we got through it (A* in the end so it was worth it) however if im up for it i may or may not share some of my artwork for the world to enjoy.

NICHE INTERESTS

pride and prejudice and zombies. one of the MOST amazing parodies of a film ive EVER seen. it was so so so good and the sillyness of it made it 10x better. seeing lily james fight zombies with a sword and being badass may have increased my straight factor. crochet, i can do that. its so fun and i love making little animal plushes to collect for myself, it really fills me with joy sonic the hedgehog, i love that blue little thing he makes me so happy and i love the entire franchise. my favourite character being tails because 7 year old me made a decision and had to stick with it, probably because having 2 tails was cool to me for some reason (talk about being woke) pokemon, ive probably grown up watching every single series of pokemon to exist, and played many of the games via emulators since i never had my own ds :(. but at one point i had the entire pokedex memorised. (not anymore tho sadly) but i am eager to get back into it.

LINKS

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[chibivesicle]

Current manga[ish] reading list in no particular order

Neighborhood Story (Gokinjo Monogatari) by Ai Yawaza - I now own up to volume 3 of the English release of the manga. The four volume set is based on what I believe was the 10th Anniversary reprint of the manga in Japan. The French edition also follows the four book format but I think the German sticks to the original seven. I have the original tankobon editions for volumes 1-3 where when you line them up, it creates a long dinner table with the entire cast.

I read the entire manga in the early 2010s via scans and had spent the late 90s to that point praying for an official release after Paradise Kiss was printed by Tokyopop. The series was old enough that in the late 90s early 2000s no one was out there doing the line by line translations that I used to use to read manga. I read all of Wish that way with the original manga and the speech bubble guide. e.g. page 12 panel 5 Overall impressions - this was a white whale for me - I likely bought the original manga when I was sixteen or seventeen based on the art style alone. I would say it falls into your standard dramatic shoujo manga with high school students but the lives of ones in counter-culture, outside the norms of usual expectations. When I read the scans I enjoyed it and while it was nothing mind blowing it is a rewarding read. The various individuals sporting alternative fashions is one of my favorite aspects of it. You have a MC who leans mostly towards mod style (Twiggy from the 1960s) with a strong vintage twist, punk, lolita, generic 90s alternative dude, preppy and your designer brand girl.

I look forward to getting volume 4 and completing the set, just it will be likely 28 years later than I would have wanted. The Rose of Versailles by Riyoko Ikeda - I sprung hard for the recent English hardcover editions. One of my friends lent me her roommates 2 volume tankobon set of this series in 2000, but it too lacked a good translation to find online and read along to it. I watched the anime in 2014 and bought the DVD box set. Of course, I couldn't say no to this classic shoujo manga. I'm through the first three volumes and slowly working my way through it. Seeing that I already watched the anime, nothing in it is overall surprising.

I have noticed that early on the level of gay is pretty high and this current "twist" of Andre getting closer to Oscar is much stronger than I felt in the anime. The entire loss of Rosalie and her fawning over Oscar was a disappointment, also toned down in the anime. There is a lot more questioning with Oscar's character as to who she is, what she desires and how to fit into her world. I really wish it pressed those questions more but alas, I'm really starting to feel the Oscar x Andre pressure ramping up. In the anime I felt like it sort of came out of nowhere and in the manga it is more like - okay Rosalie's crush was cute but real adult relationships need a man. lols. Even with my different opinion on the manga compared to the anime, I cannot stress how owning such a fundamental manga series is. I don't think I'll ever attempt a meta on this - more than enough already exists about this with how long it has been around. Witch Hat Atelier by Kamome Shirahama - An impulse purchase at The Comic Swap on Allen Street. I'm pretty sure some of the individual volumes of X and other early 2000s manga were on the shelf when I was in university.

I'd heard some good murmurs about this manga and a friend kept recommending it. I can't explain how blown away I was this series. The art style is amazing with little use of screen tones and the emphasis on line art. With the author's previous work for DC and Marvel it shows but in all the good ways as far a composition and again that line art. And we haven't even gotten to the story itself! I have read through volume 3 and the pacing is excellent. It doesn't info dump how magic works and the world building is natural and unforced. It already has brought up great questions about who controls knowledge, disability vs accommodation, dealing with trauma, what is your purpose in life/goals. It has the right amount of whimsy that you feel cozy but at the same time you know when shit is serious.

What I feel the most is that Witch Hat Atelier is intentional with everything in it. It is a carefully constructed story and comes together naturally with a good balance of young pupils and adults. And the character designs! Oh my goodness, I love them all.

The Apothecary Diaries by Natsu Hyuuga - Can't skip my gal Mao Mao. I mean I cosplayed as her back in April because how frequently do you get a pragmatic female lead with deadpan humor and is a scientist who likes plants? I also watched the first season of the anime loving every moment of it and how it really shines with its focus on women navigating a world not made to really benefit them. I decided to read the original light novel instead of the manga based on the light novel. I think by time I finish volume 2 I will have caught up to season 1 and hopefully, pull ahead of the eventual second season which comes in 2025, I think.

Out of all the titles, this one is likely my biggest guilty pleasure as a plant biologist; Mao Mao as a character has a lot of common scientist traits which make her very relatable and fun to see in any sort of media. Her obliviousness to certain things not because she doesn't have an eye for details but because she can't be bothered is realistic but rarely given to a female character in most forms of media regardless of cultural context.

Will I dive into the rest of these series for a meta? I'm honestly not sure. I may do a "quick" review of Gokinjo Monogatari when I complete volume 4 but it isn't the sort of manga that feeds into deep critical analysis. It is a coming of age story about artistic kids and looks cool.

I'd likely be more inclined to tackle Witch Hat Atelier but sometimes I just want to read something and not deep dive into it even if it intellectually feeds my curiosity. My current plan is to catch up on the manga and I'm relying on my county library to read volumes 4-13. If I really like it, I'll probably become a sucker and buy it at some point but I need to be a little more mindful of my manga purchases for the sake of my overflowing bookshelves. I took one of those surveys about how much manga you own and I wasn't expecting to clock in at almost 200 volumes when I've given away/sold/donated them from time to time.

I've got some thoughts on Kekkai Sensen but I'm waiting for the next chapter to drop since it ended on a cliff hanger with that plot twist where the "Count" from previous statements in the manga was not some old frumpy classic Dracula like Blood Breed but instead in a teenage form as Edgar. I liked the twist since I was suspicious of his character but didn't think he might have been the true mastermind of things. But we'd be lazy readers if we'd forgotten that Blood Breeds can easily shapeshift as demonstrated with Girika and Tonio. I will always give her ultimate cougar cred testing out her boy toy before committing to making him a Blood Breed instead of snacking on him.

[yumikitten]

Request: Idk if you've seen on tiktok (the booktok side) where this girl finds a motorcycle in the parking lot of Barnes and Noble and tries to find the man riding it in the store??? And when she does, he's in the romance sections and UwU's at him! Eheeek! But then he makes his own account to find her and even goes as far to say he's never been UwU'd in the wild before. Lmao But anyway, it kind of gives me Ruffilo vibes! I feel like he'd be in the romance section for sure!

A/N: Omg I have!! They have a date Tuesday! And I guess she recommended ACOTAR and he's totally reading it now. Legit its own romance novel in the making! But I agree, this has Ruffilo vibes! So, without further ado. Ahem.

Warnings: None, only fluff. 💕

You were on your way into Barnes and Noble at 9am sharp to grab your copy of Iron Flame before they sold out. You'd waited at least six months for it and you weren't about to be hindered by not only them selling out on release day, but finding a misprinted copy. For whatever reason, there were hundreds of misprints out in the world and you would not be one of those people getting one. You were about to inspect the living hell out of each copy you could so you brought home the perfect one.

Walking into the romance section, you immediately see a man with his hair pulled up looking at Fourth Wing, stopping in your tracks and pulling yourself behind the end aisle shelves. Standing in shock at not only finding a man in the romance section of a book store, but a man that was entirely too hot for his own good. Was he gay? Was that what was going on here? Men who openly read romance novels were usually gay. Never before had you seen someone of the opposite gender as hot as he was looking into one of your favorite books. It had to be a ploy, right? Maybe he was getting it for his girlfriend, you reasoned as your eyes averted down and to the right where a few copies of Iron Flame were. With a last glance at the man who had his back turned to you, you made your way to his right and began looking through the first copy.

The book jacket looked pretty solid, the font perfectly aligned. The title page plainly said it was Iron Flame as did the spine. You even noticed the map wasn't upside-down and you weren't losing a hundred pages or better. From what you could tell, chapter seventeen still had the dragon printed on it and you didn't see any duplicate pages. Satisfaction rolled through your body as you stood up and smiled widely to yourself. It was the perfect copy of Iron Flame. Now all you needed to do was check out and you'd be on your way home to binge read the ever living fuck out of it.

Turning, you noticed the man still standing there, now with another and much darker romance: Haunting Adeline. It wasn't for the faint hearted and not something someone should read their first time. You weren't positive this was his first time reading smut, but the signs were there. If he was trying to choose between those two specifically, he wasn't aware of the differences in romance.

"Get Fourth Wing," you spun around to tell him, light gray eyes piercing through you as a smile crept between his cheeks. "Haunting Adeline is a very dark romance whereas Fourth Wing is fantasy romance."

"How dark are we talking?" He asked, putting it back on the shelf to grab Fourth Wing again.

"Dark enough to know you might cringe at one of the chapters in there if you haven't read dark romance before. Trust me, get Fourth Wing." You clutched Iron Flame to your chest in a vice, not wanting it out of your sight for a second. "The second book, Iron Flame, just came out today. It's worth the hype, believe me."

Raising his eyebrow, looking between you and the shelf, he picked up the second book as well. "Well, if you insist it's as good as you're wanting me to believe."

"Oh, it is absolutely amazing. But also, let me see that." You reached your hand out for the copy he grabbed, the man giving it to you without question. Once again, you ran through the mental checklist of misprints and found no problems with this one either. Both perfect copies were USA published, not Italy. Part of you was beginning to suspect the Italy copies were the problem. "Long story, but there have been a wide-range of misprints this release. Probably the biggest I've ever seen, but it looks like this copy is perfect."

He accepted it back, "Thanks, I don't even know if I'd notice a difference or not."

Shrugging, you said, "You'd know if you were missing a hundred pages toward the end."

He seemed to be taken aback. "No shit?"

You nodded, "Yea, it's crazy ugly with some of them. The list kept growing with how many different problems people were finding."

"Well, I appreciate it. I'm looking forward to reading it." His smile was warming as one of his hands held the two books at his side. Honestly, he was much too pretty not to be gay. Quite, seemingly reserved, and wanting to read romance. Either he was gay or he was the perfect man. And the tattoos? Seriously, the universe was playing with you at how rare this occasion was.

"You definitely will, promise." Instead of introducing yourself like a normal human, you really wanted to get home to read. The more time spent lolly-gagging, the more spoilers you'd have to dodge online. You waved, smiled, and turned around to check out. Was what you were doing dumb? Absolutely. This was a once-in-a-lifetime chance presented before you and your focus was on a book about dragons and Shadow Xaddy.

You stood in line to check out, women shuffling in to grab their own copies as you saw the mystery man walk toward you. Well, not you per say, but the line. You truly hoped he'd like your recommendation as it really was one of your favorite series now. Who didn't enjoy it? The book had everything you could possibly want. Characters were fleshed out, dragons could communicate with you, Xaden Riorson. The sarcasm could put a person on their knees alone. Xaden Riorson.

You swing the door open to leave, your car in one of the first few spots as you hear someone behind you. Turning, you see the man walk toward you, books in hand.

"Here," he hands you a piece of paper with a number on it and the name Nicholas across the top. "This way I can tell you what I think about it later." Cheeks flushed you stood there perplexed. Was this happening right now? Did the hot man just give you his number?

Without thinking, you grabbed a pen out of your purse and pulled his hand toward you to write your name and number on his palm.

"There," you finished the last digit, capping the pen and putting it back in your purse, "now you can text me any time it gives you a crisis."

"Crisis?"

"A good crisis, but crisis nonetheless." His eyes were glistening in the morning sunlight, eyes looking into yours like he had found a gem. "I'd get to reading before you get any spoilers. It's a dangerous time right now."

"I'll be sure to keep a lookout if you promise to be the person to discuss theories with." Hand outstretched, Nicholas waited to see if you'd accept his proposal or not.

"Sounds like a plan to me." You took his hand in yours, the fingers calloused yet somehow still soft as you shook hands. Eventually, the two of you parted ways, your mind questioning if you had a fever dream or not. Regardless, you had a book to start. Time was ticking.

Four hours later, you get a text from Nicholas saying, "I don't know, but Dain sounds like a tool." And thus your relationship with Nicholas Ruffilo officially started.

[milkymosaic]

Hello!!! :D For the ask meme: 4, 25, 17, 9!!

Hello! <3 Two of these led me write longer and more personal responses than are perhaps expected for an ask game, so those are below the Read More. ^^; These two are short ones, though!

25. Do you/ Have you played any sports?

Not other than in gym class. I do love swimming, but not in a sports way. Just in a "being in the water" way.

17. What is something you're really good at?

I already mentioned being good at music/singing in a previous answer, so I guess writing? I have 45 works up on AO3, I've been accepted to 7 zines as a writer... And have numerous other projects on physical paper that I haven't bothered transcribing to post yet. So...yeah.

4. What is your favorite book?

"And The Band Played On" by Randy Shilts. I happened to read it because my mom kept a copy on a shelf by the family computer. It wasn't as though it was all new info to me, but hearing about the AIDS epidemic from people on the ground, from the days of first emergence, of how the system failed and failed and failed again because of prejudice, shame, and misinformation; of how so much of its spread and severity came down to human malice. It was an entirely different understanding from what the PSAs in school and sidebars in textbooks had left me with. Hearing the suffering of those sitting by the bedsides of brothers and lovers dying from a mysterious disease, wasting away into dust and bones while being denied even the most basic treatment just because they were gay. Hearing the frustration of the few outside the community who chose to fight for them instead of against them. Knowing what happened to an entire generation of our elders, both the dead and the survivors. Knowing the reason so many of them are silent is because they simply aren't here to speak, for themselves or us.

9. What do you consider your biggest accomplishment?

It may seem ridiculously mundane, but...in this economy? Buying our house.

Keeping my two orchids not only alive, but so happy that they won't stop putting out new stems and tend to keep their flowers for months on end.

Planting five different colors of columbine in a correct enough arrangement that they are not only spreading wildly on their own, but produced a new hybrid color (white) after just one year.

Picking a spot so perfect for planting my tea rose that it's not only happily survived without fuss, but quadrupled in size with minimal tending.

Rehabbing two neglected azaleas and a ratty hydrangea that I wasn't sure would make it (and now the hydrangea is big enough that an adult could hide in it).

I'm so very proud of our home and of our plants, inside and outside. And I count myself blessed to look forward to pouring love into it all for years to come. <3

[first-ex-wife]

we have been experiencing a revolving door of principals lately and the last one had to ask me to put a book aside because it's queer and the parents are upset and it's so fucking stupid like FUCK. but it is a picture book and parents are apparently sensitive about children learning of the gays so young... but anyway the principal who asked that is gone now and today's one of our last library check out days and the book has been sitting on my shelf behind my desk but I decided like. fuck it, it can be on display for the day. and immediately a teacher comes up to me like. "weren't you asked to pull this book?"

which, entirely out of the school? no, actually. a bit more hidden, yes. but it's like... idk what the fuck it is where she thinks it's HER responsibility to remind me of the instructions of a former principal? cause she was like "didn't the principal ask?" and I'm like... not the current one... but she rightly pointed out like oh the last one? but again, NOT remove it entirely, no. but she's basically catching me in a lie and she's a terrifying bitch to her STUDENTS so I'm like... I can't fucking admit to this so I'm so fucking screwed and I just tried to hold my ground?

but then she's like "oh I'm sorry if I was rude" and I'm just like...... genuinely what BUSINESS IS IT OF YOURS THOUGH? tbh it doesn't even affect her like *I'M* the one risking the L of ANOTHER parent complaining to me about this book but I'm just like... I have a pride flag on my lanyard that was gifted to me from another librarian the FIRST time this shit occurred. I have pride flags on my cabinet. it's pride month. I'm out here fighting for just some goddamn respect and you're basically like "shouldn't you just censor this book entirely?"

which... I ended up having to tell her like, actually she did say just don't display it which I just grabbed it and threw it out to fill space on the shelf (minor lie but who cares), but NO, it was never meant to be culled from the collection which was the one silver lining and I told her straight up like I wouldn't want to cause it's censorship

the fucking book is Prince and Knight by the way and it's cute af and it gets signed out at the other school I'm at all the time but apparently we're just a bit too fucking conservative in this hell hole I've decided to call home

[moeitsu]

This shit-post is dedicated to my weird ass friends and the most out of pocket things they've said that I've written in the quote book I've kept in my notes since 2019. Enjoy:

The mayonnaise did wonders for my hair. -P

The Holy Spirit does not want to suck your balls. -E

That's the scariest thing about Halloween...young women. -N

You can put long pasta in there! -E You mean spaghetti? -M

I don't know what blood type I am, is there an app for that? -G

You already said you wouldn't eat my ass -E

What's your major? -K Oh, I'm American. -G

I'm gonna shit in that trash can. -G

Are we about to exchange insurance cards? -J

I'm pretty sure I don't wanna warm my pussy by the fire. -M

Ugh, I don't wanna be a femboy! -M

If you're so worried about the angles then just stick your fingers in the hole. -M

I wish I could be off the grid. -M Like homeless people? -E

Who needs bleach when you have discharge. -J

Why are there panties in your hat? -G

I think I'm mentally disabled. -M No, you're just mentally ill. -E

It could be a deer with down syndrome. -D

I remember when the only app they had was angry birds. -J

Now that's the kind of guy who should be reproducing. -J

Cute rhymes with stupid. -N

No arms, no legs, not even living. But watches porn. -R

Sweaty balls doesn't sound very appetizing. -T

You're starting to look like a real girl again. -N

I always poop in other people's houses. It's how I establish dominance. -T

No sir, I am from Boston. All I know is drink coffee and cuss. -M

The gas station bathroom was treacherous. Pretty sure I saw blood on the walls. -C

If it doesn't cure you, it'll kill you! -Z

Bone dry dunes? That's where you go when you run out of cum. -E

I live by the thee S's: serve, slay, survive. -G

I will not participate in the ass licking. -E

You white people always have cool ancestors. My ancestors were slaves. -S My ancestors were responsible for that. -G

That gives me a free pass to call you a bitch. I'll take it. -N

Would anyone wanna buy my wick-less candles? Shameless plug I know. -K

C'mere, come into my womb. -G

I like your dads meat. -E

Our family funds the entire therapy on the north shore. -B

You can't be this smart w/o massive mental health problems. -B

She doesn't like gay people? -M Nope, she's up in the air about black people too. -P

We're back to our regularly scheduled racism. -R

That's abortion money, not pedicure money. -K

I'm gonna give you a disability if you don't stop. -M

I can always fuck up chicken. Especially the breast. -N

Nice parking job Alabama. Was your sister giving you head while you were driving? -N

I don't think calories are real. I've never seen one. -M

Do you even know what man boobs are? -E It's literally in the name. -M

Can't men flick their nipples off? -E

Well, 5 out of 6 of us were born with a full spine. -E

What's the point of having a gf if you can't objectify her? -N

Mother fucker we don't own straws. We broke as shit. -N

You're like a lollipop triple dipped in psycho flavor. -P

What are you just not gonna feed your kid so you can afford to go to Disney? -A

Do you think she's trans? Like she was a dude and now she's a guy? -N You mean she was a dude and now she's a girl? -M

The boogeyman wants to suck you're toes. -M He would never, he's asexual. -P

We need a new toilet. -P This is American made! This is a quality toilet! -A

There's no one as Irish as Barack Obama. -N

She called me autistic! -P Well, it couldn't hurt to get tested. -A

The shirt says 'wicked strong' -M It should say 'wicked annoying' -N

What bitch is blowing up your phone? -M Literally your Dad. -N

I'm a white girl, of course I love cheese. -S

Why do bad things keep happening to me? Don't they know who I am! -N

It's because I feel safe here. -M Well, maybe you shouldn't. -N

The real magic happens when you embrace the delusion. -K

Oh look, the Trump tower! What if it just blows up? -R

I'm gonna be honest, I didn't finish the Bible. It's on my DNF shelf. Adam and Eve? I need enemies to lovers. -B

A woman bit me, I'm gonna become a prostitute. No! -S

Technically, I'm bisexual. -M You're too old for labels. -G