#That you get very stoned and do a quick read of fucking Hamlet about it

[not-she-which-burns-in-it]

I accidentally lost my mind in the tags of this post. So I’m breaking Tumblr law by posting a screenshot of my own hashtags. Because now the idea of the Archivist as Hamlet is eating my entire brain.

They both have a mother figure named Gertrude.

They both spend monologue after monologue about the morality of decision-making and action.

“Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing end them?”

Hamlet argues with himself about whether action or inaction is better when you can’t possibly know all the variables of the outcome. 

Tell me you don’t hear The Archivist

Is the more noble thing to endure suffering like a martyr or too fight back and end the suffering, perhaps by Ending the suffering. This is literally the argument of MAG 200.

Because to both, death would be preferable than the fight, because it would mean an end to the suffering. But you can’t kill yourself. Hamlet promised God by being a Catholic. Jon just promised Martin. So what both of them do instead is to make shitty decision after stupid, idiotic decision, and get all of their friends and loved ones murdered instead, by accident. Hamlet didn’t mean for Ophelia to kill herself. He didn’t even mean to kill Polonious. And Jon is gutted over the deaths of Tim and Sasha. But they were the direct result of his mistakes. 

Thus conscience does make cowards of us all: The Jonathan Sims story.

God it’s not just that monologue, it’s the whole damn character. 

“And in this harsh world, draw thy breath in pain to tell my story.”

“I don’t wanna be another goddamn mystery”

[m5ria]

Chapter 20: The Play

“What the fuck, Smiles?” Angel yells at Alastor. I look around and see the backstage staff working intensely like ants; trying to figure out my first task. “Why d’you bring us... Where the fuck are we?”

“Hasn’t Diana already told you?” Alastor raises an eyebrow. “We are going to watch a play!”

Angel and Cherri both look at me expectedly, but my mind is furiously focusing on one demon. I teleport to Alastor’s face and point a finger to his face.

“What is this?” I hiss at him.

“Unless you want Angel Cakes to know about our deal, you’ll play along. Get it? PLAY along!”

“I’m not in the mood!” I warn him.

“Pity, as you’ve got no choice!” he uses one finger to move away mine.

“Just tell me what this is!” I cross my hands.

“Uhm, hello?”

We both turn to Cherri, who took a few steps toward us.

“Hi, there! Cherri Bomb here. Quick q. What play are we watching? It’d better be some action or comedy!”

“Hahaha! That would be most fitting, indeed!” Alastor regards funnily the girl. “And quite possible.”

“Al,” Angel sighs tiredly. “Just... tell us. Why are we here?”

Alastor, however, only ignores Angel, as he turns around. I follow his gaze and see a demon approaching us. A vintage-looking short and chubby lady.

“My dear,” Alastor takes her hand and kisses the back of it. She visibly melts under his touch.

“Alastor~” she replies seductively.

I briefly recognize her voice, but I can’t place her anywhere.

“As promised, I’ve looked into your casting problem,” he winks, smiling charmingly.

She studies each one of us with an assessing look as if she tries to decide if we qualify for her own university. I stand there, trying to shake the uneasy feeling that lurks around me.

“I believe I’ve asked only for one,” she speaks to Alastor with a mix between confusion and flattery.

“And one I shall deliver,” he finally turns to us. With the air of an experienced presenter, he gestures towards the other sinner: “For who hasn’t had yet the pleasure of meeting her, this little sweetheart is Mimzy.”

“Fucking Betty Boop,” I hear Angel whisper somewhere on my left.

Alastor snaps once his fingers. I don’t understand why he’s done so, as nothing untoward has occurred until I hear Cherri’s gasp behind me. I turn slightly to see Angel mouthing things, with no sound escaping his lips.

“Hey!!” I begin to object, but Alastor instantly interrupts me:

“Mimzy is the director, as well as the female lead in today’s theater play, Hamlet!”

Hamlet? I read it a long time ago … I twist my brains to remember what the plot was about.

“I’ve tried to convince them to choose something less cliché, but today’s the day dear William Shakespeare fell in Hell,” Mimzy explains. “A long time ago, it seems …”

“Wait a second!” I tremble with sudden excitement. “Do you mean to say that Shakespeare’s in Hell? Like, right now??”

“Oh, no, sweetie!” she giggles and I deflate. “No, he’s long gone now! I believe he got erased in his first decade?” She looks at Alastor for confirmation, but he simply shrugs. “Anyhoo, he was a great man in life and in Hell!”

She gives a subtle look as if we both know a secret. Yet, all I’m thinking about is why, how, when, and why (again) did Shakespeare end up here. Who the hell chooses who falls in this infernal pit and who ascends to whatever Heaven is there? God? The weight of one’s soul? Randomness?

“What do you mean he was a great man in Hell …?” I start asking but Cherri cuts in:

“All this is less fun than I’d thought it’d be. Can we go back at …?”

“Blowing mortuary stones like some hyperkinetic children?” Alastor completes. “I’m afraid not, my dear! At least, not all three of you.”

Cherri glances at a very pissed-off Angel, but I get the feeling the Radio Demon is not set on the spider sinner.

“Fine,” I answer instead of Cherri. “What do you want?”

His toothy smile grows even more as if he already won some inexistent battle. He places his hands on Mimzy’s shoulders and pushes her in front of him like an exhibit.

“Mimzy here lacks an actress! Isn’t that so, Mimzy?”

“Damn right I do,” she crosses her arms, vexed. “That boob’s decided today to be cut in half by a gang of whatever! I don’t have anyone for Ophelia. And I ain’t playing two roles again! The last time I did, I had to literally split in half, much like Josie today … No good fer these bones …”

“Mimzy, dear!” Alastor disappears, only to appear behind me, with his hands on my shoulders in the same way. “May I introduce the humble, amazing new Ophelia?”

“WHAT?”

All of us shouted at the same time. Mimzy and Cherri with enthusiasm, Angel with silent confusion, and myself with utter shock.

“Yes, indeedy!” Alastor straightens his monocle. “We shall delight ourselves in the pure theatrical talents of this young missy!”

“I thought you meant improvisation as a metaphor!” I hiss at him, trying to escape his grasp.

“Oh, I know!” he whispers back. “That’s why your first task is that simple!”

“Simple?” I gawk at him.

“As you can see, dear,” he speaks louder for Mimzy to hear, “my good friend here Mimzy is in need of assistance, so I took it upon myself to offer your free unproductive time! I’m sure we all will relish this evening's play! After all, who doesn’t like comedic tragedies?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Al,” the vintage lady assesses me from head to toe. “I’m usually excited for tragicomedies, but she’s rather … How can I put it in words? Sad? Ugly? And what’s that hair, sweetie? It looks like shit! Ain’t hellhounds lookin’ all grey?”

My body tenses with raw anger, ready any second to launch at her and tear her apart much like Josie. Instead, I snarl: “I’m no fucking hellhound!” You fucking racist!

“Is that so?” she checks her nails with suddenly lost interest. “Anyhoo, Ophelia is graceful and beautiful. I’m sure as hell that Josie’s remains can still play her better than she would!”

For some inexplicable reason, I’m offended. Why the hell am I offended? It’s not like I have any acting experience. It’s not like I want to do this.

“I am positive your delightful minions can fix her up,” Alastor insists, pushing me towards Mimzy as if he can bond us with physical proximity. “Regardless of her looks, she might be the only one here who has read Hamlet!”

I turn to him with the big question in my eyes: How would you know?

He shrugs as if saying: Just a hunch.

“And …” he resumes, “you said the play starts in half an hour! No time to waste!”

“Half a what??” I breathe hard.

“As always, Al darling, you’re right,” she butters him up. “I s’pose I can dye her hair and cover her face in loads of makeup … hmm, I think that’ll do! BITCHES!”

A bunch of succumbus demonesses appear behind her.

“Fetch!”

They make haste towards us, first surrounding Angel and Cherri, leaving them spotless, with no trace of today’s adventure. Then, they ambush me.

I try to run, teleport, anything, but they grabbed me tightly and, in a matter of seconds, they transport me like some package behind the stage.

When they release me, I only get to see my wild self through a big mirror for a moment before they whirl around me with a bunch of brushes. My eyes can’t focus and I constantly sneeze.        

“What the fu... Don’t touch that!”

“Sorry!” A devilish succumbus demoness tried to touch my bushy tail. “It’s so pretty!”

“Don’t touch me!” I fight all of them off me. “I can dress up myself! Give me those!”

They offer me the most ridiculous dress I’ve ever seen. The combination of lime green and royal purple physically hurts my eyes.

“Who chose this ... blasphemy?”

But I already know who.

Five minutes later, Mimzy, in a different attire, comes to examine my appearance.

“Hmm … Not bad at all,” she touches my now blonde hair. “Maybe tighten more the corset?”

As on queue, someone from behind me makes me almost throw up.

“Enough!” I shake those hands off of me. Then, I look at Mimzy with barely held anger: “I don’t know what Alastor told you, but I don’t know any lines!”

“Aww, sweetie!” she laughs, and the other succumbus join her. “Ya better not! We don’t play that kind of Hamlet!”

“What do you mean? Are there any other kinds of Hamlet??”

“Let’s say this is a Hell version of Hamlet!” she giggles. “As long as you know what happens, you’ll be fiiine!”

That’s the thing, though. I don’t know what will happen!

“’Sides,” she adds, “the lines are there. More as a suggestion. Look at it as an improvisation!”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I’m screwed.

The rest of my remaining time, I read a Hamlet summary on my phone and try to memorize (more like a swallow) Ophelia’s lines. To no use, to be honest. My brain is blank.

The next hours decide the outcome of my first task. If I fail … It’s not just pure embarrassment anymore. Even if that alone makes me cower away. I haven’t been on a stage since I was a child at my father’s fancy parties, playing the piano or the violin for his fancy guests. Even then, I knew what to do. I was prepared.

Now, my freedom is at stake.

Calm yourself!

I inhale hard and look between a gap in the curtains at the crowd. Because of the spotlights, I can’t recognize any demon. Everything is in the dark beside the stage.

Focus!

Yes. Ophelia. She’s the daughter of the chief counselor of the king. The one the protagonist is rumored to be in love with. I’ll just have to pretend a desirable innocent quiet lady from Medieval times. How hard can it be?

Sooner than I would have wanted to, the third scene of the first act calls me onto the stage. With the air of a woman sentenced to death, I walk into the light.

Next Chapter

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Masterlist

[write-ur-wrongs]

Of Monsters and Men (pt. 1)

Summary: Geralt and Jaskier travel to a small seaside village after being hired to take care of a monster that has been terrorizing the villagers for months. However when they arrive, Geralt finds that the monster in question isn’t so easy to kill. 

A/N: This was getting to be quite lengthy, so I decided to split it into parts. This is the story I wanted to write when I first started watching the Witcher on Netflix and I am nervous and excited to finally be sharing it here!! Like with all my fics, I try to keep my Y/N has physically non-descript as possible, she/her and vibe are the only descriptors. I’ve also not proof-read but will edit errors as I see them post post lol. I hope y’all enjoy this!! Your feedback is always welcome :’)

this is approx. 2200 words and is largely setting the scene. I expect this to story to be told in no more than 3 parts. 

                              _________________________

When Geralt and Jaskier rode up to the quiet coastal village, they were struck by how calm and peaceful it was. The sound of waves lapping against the rocky shoreline, the rhythmic bumping of boats against the docks, and the soft clatter of driftwood windchimes melted together to create an atmosphere that soothed Jaskier to his core. He found himself gaping at the sights that surrounded him in wonder; truly taken by the way setting sun cast a golden glow on everything and painted the cloud-laced sky in rich hues of pink and orange.

“This place…” he sighed theatrically, waving his arms around, “is wonderful! Geralt are you not moved by the sight of it all? Does your soul not sing out! Oh, Geralt! Wow!”  

The witcher only rolled his eyes at his friend’s dramatics. Jaskier was always so blown away by the simplest things and it both amused and annoyed Geralt. Yes, the sky and the sea were beautiful sights, but more importantly, they were merciless vehicles of danger, death, and destruction; and Geralt knew better than to romanticize things that were, at their core, dangerous.

Sensing the bard’s eyes on him, Geralt gave him a hum of acknowledgement hoping it would be enough to satisfy Jaskier’s need for collective appreciation. It was, as he dreaded, insufficient.

“Come now, Geralt!” he enthused, “take that stick out your arse for a moment and appreciate the sights and sounds of this charming inlet! Listen to the sea! The chimes, Geralt! Listen to how the wind tickles the –”

“For fucks sake, Jaskier! It’s a fucking port city just like any other. This place is one bad storm away from being wiped out by that scenic sea of yours!”

“Yeesh,” Jaskier said letting out a low whistle. “Was it the stick in the arse bit? Too far?”

“Jask-”

“- because look, you are very stoic but – and I mean this as a compliment Geralt, so don’t get your leather in a –”

“Jaskier!” Geralt interrupted gruffly as he dismounted Roach with a huff. “Will you please shut up! Let’s just find the stables and the inn and get this over with.” Without waiting for Jaskier to catch up to him, he led his mare deeper into town.

Jaskier, refusing to let Geralt’s gruff exterior get him down, dismounted gracefully and lightly jogged to meet up with him, his lute clacking loudly against his back as he ran.

“Remind me again what dreadful little creature brings us out to this enchanting harbor?” he asked, still jogging a little to keep up with the witcher’s long strides.

“Don’t know yet.”

“Oh, ho-ho! A mystery? Always makes for a good song. What do we know so far?”

Geralt stopped and turned slightly towards the bard before speaking.

“Apparently a creature has been killing and dismembering men in town. They are being killed at all hours, bodies found in town, at sea, or out in the surrounding forests. Seems nowhere is safe.” Geralt let his cat-like eyes linger on the bard’s horrified expression for a moment before turning back and keeping on the path into town, shaking his head at Jaskier’s queasiness.

“Yeesh – Geralt! You’re not serious! Why would you bring me with you!?” Jaskier picked up the pace, suddenly wanting to be closer to his friend.

“You invited yourself,” Geralt said, trying to contain his smile, “as always.”

“Of course, I invited myself! You’re far to proud to admit you’d miss me.” Jaskier retorted. “Let’s get these horses to the stables, get rooms, and find food so that you can sort this out as quickly as inhumanly possible,” he said, speaking quickly and with a light waver, trying to pretend the quaint seaside village around him didn’t now leave him chilled to the bone.

“Hmm,” Geralt chuckled, happy to have managed to scare the bard into silence, at least for the time being.

The local pub was busier than Jaskier had expected when they rode into town. Seems the reason the village was so peaceful upon arrival was because everyone had already made their way to the bar. Fortunately, he’d managed to nab them a table by the stone fireplace; after a day of riding alongside the sea, Jaskier was desperate for a cold ale and a warm fire.

“Alrighty then, Geralt,” Jaskier said, holding his hands up to the hearth, “what have we got so far?”

“Not much,” he replied, tearing apart the loaf of bread a barmaid had brought over moments prior, “a couple people stopped me at the inn to ask me if I was here to kill the beast, but they didn’t have any information to offer besides the fact that it was a constant threat.”

“Well, maybe you’ll have more luck here – I mean look around, you’d think the whole town’s come to drink!”

“Port cities, Jask,” Geralt said, letting his gaze scan the room slowly, “the people here either spend their days at the mercy of the sea or waiting for their loved ones to come home. You drink for sorrow and for hope of a bright tomorrow.”

“That was poetic as fuck, Geralt! My influence?” he teased, shooting the witcher a cheeky grin, who merely grunted distractedly in reply.

Now ignoring his still-talking friend, Geralt’s eyes had landed on the two women working behind the bar. One was talking excitedly and kept casting quick glances toward the bard, blushing brightly when she caught his eye, while the other was watching Geralt with inquisitive eyes.

“… I tell you Geralt the more you allow yourself to – oh! Speaking of which, here come a few now!” Jaskier flourished, winking enthusiastically at the blushing barmaid who was making her way towards them sheepishly.

Geralt sat back in his chair and rolled his eyes, already tired of the flirting he was about to witness. To his surprise and great pleasure, Jaskier got up and met her halfway, leaving him in peace with his thoughts.

Having brought his attention back down to the bread before him, Geralt didn’t notice that he had company until she was right in front of him. Sensing her presence, he shot his gaze up quickly, and found her staring at his wolf medallion with a quirked brow.

“Forgive me,” she started, her deep, velvet-like voice washing over Geralt like morning sun after a cold night, “but you’re… a witcher?”

“I am,” he replied, giving her a crooked smile, his own voice, low and gravely and smooth, not going unnoticed by the woman before him. “Geralt, of Rivia.”

“Oh fuck,” she said, with a breathy sort of laugh, “so you’re not a witcher, you’re the Witcher then, aren’t you?”

Geralt let out a low and modest grunt, shaking his head at the comment. He thought himself immune to the scrutiny and awe that came with being the White Wolf, having carried the title for so long, but there was something about the way she was looking at him that left him shy.

“I’m,” he faltered needing to stop to clear his throat, having made the mistake to look her in the eyes, “just a witcher. Really.”

“Well, they don’t send you out for just anything, do they? For you to be out here in our little hamlet…” she squinted at him with a small tilt of her head, “we must be under some kind of threat. Should I be worried?”

“I was hoping you’d tell me, –” he stopped, waiting for her to introduce herself.

“Y/N,” she replied quickly, offering Geralt a warm smile despite the fact that she’d just crossed her arms, “and I mean we do get the odd ruffian coming through town. They always make a mess of things, don’t they? Beyond that, well, I suppose alcohol does breed violence in some,” she gave a light, one shouldered shrug, “but that’s not the kind of crime that would reach your ears.”

Geralt hummed thoughtfully, taking his time to consider Y/N’s words. She seemed almost too friendly, and there was something about her that both drew him in and had him putting up his guard.

“A monster has been picking the men of the village off one by one.” Leaning back into his chair to put some distance between them. “I’m surprised you wouldn’t be aware, considering,” he nodded towards the bar, “your job here.”

“Meaning what?” she retorted, wearing a playful smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“Only that you must hear a lot,” he gestured vaguely to the crowd surrounding them, “and see a lot, doing what you do. I would have expected that the disappearance and dismemberment of men in town would be something of note.”

“Well,” Y’N tsked, “I’m sorry to say that you’ve been brought out here on something of a fool’s errand. There’s no monster here; the tale of disappearing men has been told here for months. It started with a woman, too embarrassed to admit that the man who impregnated her left her overnight, telling everyone that a creature from the forest killed him. From there the story grew wilder with every retelling.”

“Hm,” Geralt hummed, watching Y/N carefully with narrow eyes, “I was told dismembered body parts were turning up, consistently, after each disappearance, and that they were being identified as belonging to the latest victim. Besides, I was hired to come here. Why would someone pay me coin to rid a town of ghost?”

“People struck by tragedy will claim to see many things, Sir Geralt,” she replied softly, “not all of them will be true. A dead fish floating at sea, a creature mauled by wolves by the roads, rotten meats abandoned by vendors…” she shrugged, “the mind will twist the truth in order to bring comfort. Who hired you?” 

She added that last question quickly, and Geralt could tell it was calculated. Sensing this, he only replied with a quirked brow and a tilt of his head. 

Y/N betrayed no sense of frustration when she realized the Witcher wasn’t going to elaborate. Instead, her eyes softened, and she smiled at Geralt with what he perceived as pity. 

“Look, the truth is that there is no monster here. Isn’t that right Thalia?”

“Sorry, what?” Thalia, who had just walked back over the Geralt’s table with a tray of ales in her hands, was breathlessly giggling at something Jaskier had whispered in her ear. As she and Jaskier placed four ales on the table, Y/N took a seat across from the Witcher and quickly explained got the two up to speed.

“Oh goodness, that! I can not believe our town’s little lore made it to your ears, Sir Geralt!” She said with wide eyes as she snuggled up next to Jaskier, clinking her tankard with his before taking a generous sip.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Jaskier coughed on his ale, “you’re telling me there’s no monster here? That we might actually be able to enjoy a little rest and relaxation here without any horrible monster-killing business? Geralt this is good news!” he exclaimed, smacking his free hand on the table for emphasis.

Geralt only growled out a hum in response, never taking his eyes off Y/N.

“I’ll admit,” Thalia continued, seemingly unaware of the tension between the Witcher and her friend, “it’s scary to think about – you know, murder – but when you actually think about who disappears, it’s not difficult to see the truth.”

At this, Geralt turned his fierce gaze away from Y/N. “What do you mean, ‘who disappears’?”

“O-only that the men who leave aren’t really the type that anyone would miss.” She replied, stuttering a little against her best efforts to not recoil at Geralt’s inhuman eye-contact. “They were mean, violent types. The kind of man that would get crueler the more he drank. Just, awful, evil men, right Y/N?”

Y/N nodded quickly in agreement, taking a slow sip of her ale. “Good riddance.”

“Exactly!” Thalia agreed, clinking her glass to Y/N’s.

“Hell, I’ll drink to that,” Jaskier laughed, before picking his lute up off the floor. “What do you say ladies, a song?”

Thalia cheered loudly and encouraged the rest of the patrons to listen to the bard, letting them all know that he was in fact, the one who traveled with the great White Wolf. Jaskier was positively floating from the adoration as he danced around the pub, pulling cheers and applause after every song.

All the while, Geralt never took his eyes off of Y/N, who had retreated back to the bar after finishing her drink.

Geralt wasn’t sure what to believe. He had a strange feeling about this place from the moment he and the bard arrived, and it frustrated him to no end that even after hours in town, he was no closer to understanding the source of his discomfort. One thing was for certain, something about the story he heard here tonight did not add up, and he definitely didn’t trust its source.

Y/N was standing behind the bar washing glasses, but she wasn’t focused on the task at hand. Instead, her eyes were trained on the crowd before her. Geralt watched her as she scanned the pub with calm, slow-moving eyes that jumped from patron to patron.

The witcher was distracted for a moment when Jaskier sauntered into his sightline, singing a loud chorus of Toss a Coin to Your Witcher. Despite himself, Geralt couldn’t help but smile at the bard, whose face was flushed from the ales and the exertion.

However, as Geralt watched Jaskier twirl across the crowded pub, something in his peripheral vision made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

Y/N had turned he head and was staring right at him with a pair of pitch-black eyes.  

Like a shot, Geralt turned his gaze to the woman behind the bar – his heart beating loudly in his ears – only to find her smiling warmly at him, her eyes their normal shade.

Instinctively, Geralt brought his hand up to his wolf-head medallion, hoping it would signal the presence of some supernatural evil. But he felt nothing.

He didn’t know what she was, but she was not human.

[mymelodyheart]

All I Want For Christmas Is You Chapter 3 ~A Christmas Request~

Previously in It's her Cue ...

 A tiny fraction of the playfulness displayed on his face was replaced by uncertainty ...and Claire's stomach coiled at the proof he wasn't prepared to act on the attraction between them. Whatever his reason was, she wasn't sure if she wanted to know as her guard began to scramble back into place. Oh, God, how could I be so dim? Maybe he's got a girlfriend or a wife ...

"Arbroath Smokies."

Stunned, she looked at him. "Wot?"

"Have ye eaten?"

"Uh, um ...not since midday."

"Weel, hard to fall in love with ..." He took a huge deep breath. "...Broch Mordha on an empty stomach."

"Huh?"

That playful smile was back on his face. "Have ye tried Arbroath Smokies?"

"No. I don't even know what that is."

"Ye have to try it. I know just the place." Jamie glanced over his shoulder. "Come on, let's have a quick drink with Willie and Annalise so we can get out of here." 

And then just like that, he wove his fingers through hers and tugged her towards the bar.

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

If you wish to read this from the beginning:

AO3 link

Tumblr link

 Jamie stiffened and stopped in his tracks when he felt a slight hesitation in Claire's movement. Is she having second thoughts? He glanced back at her and saw her eyes dropped to their intertwined hands and chewed her lower lip. "Changed yer mind?" he asked softly, his thumb caressing the knuckles of her hand without conscious volition. "I ken Arbroath smokies is not everyone's cuppa tea. We can have something else if ye wish."

She shook her head. "No. It's not that." She took a step closer, and he caught a whiff of her floral scent. Her nearness made the tension in his chest become like a drawn bow like there was an arrow precariously pointing into his heart. But the feel of her skin beneath his fingers was potent enough to mute the warning voices in his head. 

"What is it then, Sassenach?"

"I have something to ask you," she whispered, her eyes darting sideways, seemingly conscious of the watchful eyes around them. 

When she drew her hand from his hold, the loss of touching her skin made a hollow yawn at the pit of his belly.

He ignored the uneasiness he felt and swallowed hard. "Ye can ask me anything."

 Her cheeks blossomed into a pretty shade of scarlet. "I just want to make sure there's no misunderstanding." 

"What's on yer mind?"

"This is a small village, and I understand how everyone talks about everyone's business here. I ...um, don't want to step on anyone's toes while I'm here on holiday. You're not married or involve with anyone by any chance, are you?"

He felt the tension on his back ease, and he leaned back to look at her beautiful face. He wondered what it would be like to have her as his. Would a lass like her be content living in a hamlet like Broch Mordha, where the terrain, although naturally beautiful often described as a dismal place to live in because of the weather and remoteness? "No." A city girl like her would probably have a difficult time settling in the Highlands. "There's nae lass in my life." He forced a smile. "And never been married. How about ye?"

Her mouth opened then closed, and her brow wrinkled. "No. No boyfriend. I haven't been out with anyone for a long time."

He arched an eyebrow. "Really?" Were the men in London blind or what? "Why is that? Too focused on yer career to let anyone in yer life?"

"No. It's not that." Her eyes lowered to half-mast and settled on his chin. He almost lost it right there and then. Ah, Christ! If she's going to keep staring at him like that, he'd probably end up throwing her over his shoulders and taking her home. "I just haven't met anyone who..." her voice trailed off.

"...took yer breath away?" he finished the sentence off for her.

A slow smile spread across her face, making her eyes bright and opalescent. "Something like that," she replied.

He stared at her for a while, and a silent understanding passed between them, one that made him realised that she was very aware of their connection.

Jamie laughed inwardly but without humour. Everything about this lass so far lined her up as the perfect woman for him. How was that even possible that he felt the way he did after only a short period? He pressed his lips tight together, knowing that kind of thinking would only bring him grief.

She'd agreed to go out with him, and he would enjoy her company for what it was. It was a fruitless endeavour worrying about what he would do when it was time for her to go, and he would rather die before pressuring someone like her to stay. He'd done that before, and all it brought him was heartache and distress. She'd said she wanted to be a writer, but she wasn't ready to give up London just yet. This vibrant and intelligent lass had the fucking world at her disposal and her pick of better suited men who could give her the life she's used to, and he wasn't about to be the one to get in the way of those possibilities.

But it was too late to distance himself from this attraction, so Jamie made a deal with himself. One that made his throat contract and dread of the unknown take root. He'd allow himself to enjoy whatever time he had with Claire and be a perfect host and show her the best of what living in Broch Mordha had to offer. If she decided that it wasn't enough to make her stay to explore this connection between them, he'd force himself to accept it. Going to the city and living in one was no option for him, no matter how much he wanted the lass. He tried it before, but ever since he returned from his deployment in Iraq, he couldn't handle the big crowd and loud noises in the city. It made him freeze on the spot and brought back the nightmares and horrors of the Middle East war. He was more at peace here in the Highlands, where he'd already made a life for himself.

Reluctantly, he took a step back away from her. He had to. Otherwise, he'd end up kissing her in front of these people. "So ye're still in for that Arbroath smokies?"

"Of course," she murmured, visibly shaking herself. "I'd love that."

He laced their fingers together once more, unable to stop himself from brushing his lips against her knuckles and uncaring of the gossips he was sure was already spreading like wildfire. When she squeezed his hand in response, he felt weightlessness for the first time in a long time in the depths of his soul. That's when he knew he had his work cut out ahead of him. He cleared the sudden clutter in his throat and gave her his best smile. "Let's go then, Sassenach."

..........

After a round of drinks, Jamie and Claire left Annalise and Willie in the pub to their game of pool and darts. And Jamie was more than happy with the arrangement as he wanted to be alone with Claire.

His steps were light as he led her down the cobbled street, pointing out numerous historic residences and structures on the way. She listened intently, her inquisitive nature surprising him with her enthusiasm to learn more about his birthplace. But as soon as she heard the holiday jingle streaming in the background, her eyes lit up like a child, and she stared straight ahead. Right before them, at the town centre, was Broch Mordha's famous Christmas fair, festively illuminated and a sea of red, green and gold.

To Jamie's amusement, Claire tugged his hand, urging him to walk faster. When they finally got there, the quaint Church Street was bustling with activity. While vendors busily sold their goods, families strolled together, some pushing prams and some walking their dogs. Teenagers walked in groups, laughing and singing at the top of their lungs. Elderly couples wandered hand in hand, stopping now and again to admire the colourful goods on display. The booths bordering the road showed off their fares from patisseries, cheeses and charcuterie to chocolates, tablets and preserves. Beyond the food stalls, there was a whole range of crafted goods, from jewellery to tweed accessories, clothing and photography to candles and ceramic and stoneware.

Jamie had been to the Christmas fair every year of his life, but tonight with Claire, everything seemed more vivid, and he wanted to commit each moment and the sound of her laughter to memory.

He watched her nibble a Crowdie which the cheesemonger offered for her to try after they stopped by his stall. A few samples later, Jamie could tell, the older man was taken by her. It was no wonder as her zest for life was contagious, and she was willing to try anything, undeterred by the unfamiliar names and labels. Looking at her, he glimpsed a faint smattering of freckles across her nose, and he knew she didn't have a trace of make-up on except for the hint of mascara which he thought was totally unnecessary.

She glanced over to him, and her amber eyes widened. "Why are you looking at me like that for?"

He winked at her and lowered his voice. "I dare ye to ask me what I'm thinking."

She wrinkled her nose and snorted. "I don't think so. When men say those sort of things, it usually means there's filth involved. I'll pass, thank you very much."

He laughed out loud, enjoying the way she kept him off balance. Teasing her and watching the colour infused her face was endearing to watch and something he could quickly get used to if he wasn't too careful.

In the next hour, as they toured the Christmas market, he discovered she loved historical books, scented candles, colourful scarves, a sugary Scottish confection called tablet, and her dislike for Haggis. Despite her objections, he couldn't stop himself buying things for her.

When she'd tried to swipe the items she wanted to purchase from his hands, he held them above his head, out of her reach. He laughed when she jumped and attempted to grab them. 

"You can't do that," she protested when he signalled the vendor to wrap up the pendant she was admiring. It was a Sterling silver, with an amber stone set in a Celtic dragonfly design. 

"Ye said ye like it."

"Just because I like something, it doesn't mean I'll go off buying things on a whim. In real life, that's not how it works." 

"But it's Christmas, and I'm the one buying," he reasoned, grinning at her as he pushed some pound notes into the seller's hand. "Besides, I like the necklace on you. The stone reminds me of the colour of yer eyes."

"But Jamie ..."

"No buts. I really want to do this. Just let me."

When she stubbornly glared at him, he took a step closer and caressed her cheek with the pad of his thumb. He heard the hitch in her voice, the deep furrows on her brows slowly dissolving, but not quite totally.

"Please?" he whispered.

She looked at him, and after a few seconds, her features relaxed. "Very well," she conceded, eventually looking anywhere but into his eyes. "I'll pay for dinner then,"

He grinned and gave her a victorious look. "We'll see about that. Come on, Sassenach, I want to eat." He grabbed her wrist before she could object while he held gift bags on his other hand. They walked side by side, meandering through the market until they reached their destination. 

After ordering two paper plates of Arbroath smokies served with new potatoes and peas, they found a secluded area with a wooden table and bench to enjoy their meal and watch people go about their holiday season business.

Her face softened as she ate, looking comfortable in her surroundings as if she felt right at home here. Her eyes radiated with satisfaction, as she savoured every tiny morsel of the smoked fish, her tongue flicking out to catch every bit. A low moan slipped through her mouth with every bite, her head nodding and her eyes widening, when there were no words, reassuring Jamie with facial gestures how much she was enjoying herself. He watched every precious, gut-wrenching, sensual moment of the experience and wondered if he would ever be the same again. And when they finished their meal, washed down with a glass of cider, she let out a soft, sated sigh that slammed straight to his chest, squeezing his heart. 

 If he accomplished one bloody thing over the holiday season, it would be to show this lass how special she was and every second they spent together was a gift he would always treasure.

He opened a small parcel of chocolate truffles they'd bought in the market earlier and pushed it towards her. "Ready for dessert?" he offered, realising how much he loved feeding her.

"Mmmm, yes, please." She popped the sweet treat into her mouth and smiled. "This has been so much fun. I've loved every minute of tonight, Jamie. Thank you."

He had too. He'd never experienced such a powerful bond with a lass on both a mental and physical level, and he tried not to think of the day when she'd go back to London. When the time came, he'd deal with it. "Who said the night is over?" he teased.

"Is it not?"

"Far from it." He got up, dropped their plates and cups in the recycling bin and then offered his hand to her. "Come, Sassenach ... we're off to our next destination," he said, grabbing their bags.

"Where to now? More food?" she groaned, clutching her stomach.

"If it's food ye want, there are still a lot of things ye haven't tried yet." He laughed, taking her hand in his as he tugged her towards the direction where they came from. "But first caffeine. We're going to need it."

"Oooh, are we doing an all-nighter now, are we?" she breathed, almost skipping beside him, trying to keep up with his long stride.

"It's a surprise, Sassenach but I promise ye, ye're going to love the entertainment factor in the next phase of this date," Jamie said as he pushed the door to a coffee shop. "Come, let's go inside and get some heat first."

He ordered two Dutch coffee from the counter and settled them by the window overlooking the street market that was beginning to thin out. When Claire took a sip of the frothy hot beverage, she sighed in pleasure and smiled.

"Ye like?"

"Uh-huh, this is like caffeinated eggnog. Never had it before. I love it!"

"Dinnae tell me, ye don't have them in London."

"They probably do, but I've never had the pleasure of seeing it in a drink menu."

He noticed a residue of cream lodged in the corner of her mouth. Unable to help himself, Jamie reached over slowly, wiping it off with his thumb. Staring into her eyes, he deliberately put his thumb into his mouth and sucked. 

An invisible firework suddenly erupted between them, the sights and sounds of their immediate surrounding fading in a blurred haze, becoming meaningless in the perfect connection of those precious seconds.

"Claire?"

"Hmmm?" Her voice was like a breathless whisper, and he wasn't sure if he imagined the yearning look in her eyes. It took all his self-control to keep from kissing her right there and then. Instead, he locked down all his muscles and willed himself to think of animals that start with the letter D. And all his damn brain could summon was the word dragonfly.

"May I ask ye a favour?"

"I don't kiss on the first date," she said too quickly, but her words contradicted her manner as she stared at his lips.

"That wasn't what I was gonnae ask ye."

"Oh!" Her eyes flew to his, and she blushed profusely. "Oh, well, that depends on the favour then."

He swallowed hard and leaned forward, taking her hands in his. "Will ye spend the rest of yer holiday with me?" He cleared his throat. "What I'm trying to ask of ye is, will ye stay here until the Three Kings ...until it's time for ye to go back to London?"

She blinked thrice. 

It was a request straight from his heart, and he listened to it, unheeding of the alarm bells that started to reverberate in his brain. He needed more time with Claire to see this through and to find out what this was between them. He waited for laughter, a dismissive wave of her hand, a playful joke or a roll of her eyes as he held his breath.

"Alright."

"Alright?" A lungful of air whooshed out of him.

"Yes, I'd love to stay."

Something shifted and awakened. 

He didn't know what it was, but he also knew it would never be the same between them.

Suddenly, he realised the simple request took a lot out of him because all he could muster at that moment were his heartfelt words, "Thank you, Sassenach."

Dear Readers,

Here it is, the third chapter of my Christmas story. I'm super thrilled you're enjoying this so far if the feedback and kudos is anything to go by from the previous instalment. Thank you so much for the generous response and your continuous readership. I hope you're all having a fabulous week. Keep up the good vibes and faith and keep passing that on because even if we can't change what's going on in the world, a healthy amount of positivity will see us all through this strange time. Take care of your health and safety and much love to all. x

[insfiringyou]

BTS - Your first time having sex with V

Contains: Fluff. Smut. Vaginal sex. Sex outdoors.

AN: Although this is marked as reader, this is imagined with Taehyung’s OTP, Cassandra. Find our more about our headcanon universe and original characters here.

To read each member & their girlfriend’s headcanon universe fics in order, follow the links here: RM   /   Jin /   Suga /   J-Hope   /   Jimin   /   V   /   Jungkook

Our full masterlist can be found here :) & this scenario can also be found on Ao3 here

(Photo credit goes to: https://bangtan-sonyeon-scans.tumblr.com/)

Rated content below the cut

You saw him from a distance, leaning against a broad-trunked tree, facing the ancient palace and watching as small groups of tourists walked by. You felt your heart thud in your chest, despite yourself, and took a deep breath as you approached him, tugging down the hem of your plain white camisole and adjusting the strap of the fabric tote bag on your shoulder.

“Hi.” You called from behind him. He turned around at the sound of your voice, away from the crowd. He looked a little dazed for a moment, before he smiled softly.

“Hi. I’m glad you came.” Without warning, he leaned down and kissed you gently on the lips. He had pulled away before you had time to register what had happened, but you felt your heart thud once more and you had to force yourself to close your mouth. He laughed gently at your reaction as you looked away from him to the floor. It wasn’t like you had never kissed him before. In fact, you had done a little more than kiss in the past. It was just that, until he had texted you yesterday evening asking if you wished to go for a walk in the woods by Changdeokgung Palace, you had not spoken for three weeks. If you were honest with yourself, the fault also lied in yourself. You had decided not to text or message him until he did so first and so the stalemate began. You didn’t even know whether or not he was your boyfriend. You had been seeing each other for the past three months, yet he had never said as much, and you had never asked.

“I like your skirt.” He nodded towards your long, floaty skirt. It was decorated in jewel toned embroidery; greens and purples and oranges. You smiled and thanked him.

“Shall we walk this way?” Taehyung indicated down a narrow, winding path which led towards a cluster of trees. You nodded and had to stop yourself from letting out a mutter of surprise as he reached down and took your hand in his. You walked towards the park in silence, passing several other couples and families before you met the thick line of trees.

Eventually, he spoke. “I liked your play.”

You frowned, confused. “Which one?”

“Hamlet. At the Jeongdong.” He shrugged. “You made a great Ophelia.”

Your forehead wrinkled even further. “You saw my play? When?”

“Last Thursday.”

You let out a small laugh, without much humour. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going? We could have done something afterwards.”

He looked at you. “I thought you were probably busy.”

You shook your head as you turned a corner and passed a small, stone carving by the side of the path. “I could have at least seen you...said hello.” You sighed before deciding to let it drop. “I’m playing Honey in Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf next...at the National. We start practising in two weeks.”

“Oh.” You turn another bend in the path and find yourself passing a small fish pond. “I’ve never seen the play. I enjoyed the film. Elizabeth Taylor was great.”

You glance at the small body of water and watch the shimmery gold and piebald yellow carp as they swim just below the surface. “I suppose you’ll be away again by the time it is on.”

“Away?” He turned to glance at you.

“On tour. You’re going to America.”

He paused. “Oh yeah. I forgot.” He sounded a little sad. The pond ended and you passed a group of wooden benches, scattered between the trees. There was an elderly couple seated at one, holding hands as they watched the fish in the pond from a distance. Without really thinking, you squeezed Taehyung’s hand tighter. He looked down at you as you smiled.

“Look.” You made a small gesture to the pair on the bench but kept your voice a whisper. “Cute old couple.”

His expression was incredibly gentle beneath the canopy of green trees. “They look so content.” He held your hand tighter.

“I hope I'm as happy as they look when I’m their age.” You said quietly, passing by them. They dissapeared from view as you turned another corner. The path branched off into three lanes. You chose the left strand. You became aware that the number of people you passed was growing less and less every minuite as you walked deeper into the parkland.

Taehyung moved your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “I’m sure you will be.” You continued walking for another five minutes in silence, evetually letting go of his hand and walking side by side, before you finally broke the quiet.

“I wasn’t sure you wanted to see me again.” You admitted as you turned down another path. “I thought maybe you didn’t like me that much.” You shrugged.

There was a pause before he spoke. “Of course I like you.” He sounded confused.

You glanced at him. He looked beautiful in the shade. “I just thought...since we haven’t spoken for a while.” You gathered your thoughts. “I wasn’t sure what I meant to you. Whether we were dating, or...?”

He looked puzzled, his gaze dropping to his shoes as you both subconsciously slowed your speed. “I’d have said we were dating.”

“Oh.”

“We’ve been intimate.”

You felt your cheeks redden. “Yes.” You agreed, remembering how you had taken him in your mouth and how his fingers had pressed against your opening, sinking into you until you gasped into his open mouth. You didn’t question his reasoning. You thought plenty of people would be happy to be intimate with someone without dating them. You took a quick glance at Taehyung and noted how, unlike yourself, he didn’t seem embarassed. His warm, caramel coloured skin seemed to glow in the sunlight as the trees parted into a clearing. There was another small pond surrounded by a low brick wall. There was no one else in sight. You hadn’t seen another person now for over half an hour.

He reached over to you and took your hand in his once more, leading you around the edge of the pond and back into the canopy of trees at the far side of the clearing. Another minute passed before you spoke. “Do you know where we are?”

He shook his head softly. “No.”

“Oh.” You briefly looked around you. “Do you think you can get us back?”

He thought for a moment. “Yes. I’m sure I can.” He turned to look at you. “Are you worried?”

Your eyes met his. “No.” He looked incredibly beautiful. You sighed, leaning in to meet his lips. His mouth touched yours gently as you turned your head and pressed yourself closer. In unison, you parted your lips to allow your tongues to meet. His right hand came around the back of your head and brushed through your hair, holding you against him. His other hand left your own and moved to brush your cheekbone as his tongue brushed against yours. You quickly felt your breath increasing as he kissed you like this; it felt incredibly sexy and, had you not been completely confident that you were alone, you would have felt exposed and indecent. As it happened, having him confirm his feelings for you after months of uncertainty had been enough to make you ache for him. You had forgotten, in the three weeks apart, how good he had made you feel the last time you were alone together. You thought that every time his eyes moved across your features, he made you feel like Helen of Troy. You had never felt more desirable with someone before.

You moaned into his mouth as his palm left your face and brushed the white strap of your camisole down your shoulder, causing the strap of your tote bag to drop to the crook of your elbow. He paused to caress your upper arm gently before repeating the motion with your other strap. You both moved off the loosely marked path without thinking, him leading you backwards until your back pressed against the trunk of a tree. You moved your hands to tug the thin, white material of his shirt from the waistband of his linen trousers. They were tucked in loosely and the shirt came free easily. You ran your hands along his bare stomach, over his bellybutton and delighted in the small sounds he made as your hands came in contact with his skin. Slowly, you moved your palm lower, not really thinking about what you were doing until your hand skimmed along his clothed erection. Like the shirt, the linen pants were very thin and, you fancied, you could feel every vein and groove through his underwear. He groaned loudly into your open mouth before pulling his lips away from yours to look at you. He gazed down through thick eyelashes and you felt your own breath hitch in reply. His desire for you was obvious but he moved his eyes from yours to briefly look around the open space, cautiously. You were no longer in view of the small path but the trees here were still widely spread out.

Slowly, he reached down for your hand and led you over a small incline in the forest floor. The hill soon levelled out before dropping again. You followed him back down until the ground was level again. You thought that even if somebody did walk past on the main path, they would not be able to see or hear you from their vantage. His hands and mouth were back on you as you allowed yourself to be lowered onto the floor, dropping your canvas bag to the side. The ground was mossy and a little spongy, supporting and cushioning your body surprisingly well. You moved your hands beneath you to push aside a few twigs as he joined you.

You thought he might protest as you hitched up the hem of your long, loosely fitting skirt and tugged down your plain, pink panties. After all, this was not the most comfortable place to be fucking, even if it wasn’t your first time together. He simply kissed you passionately in return, however, as you ran your hands along his waistband once more. The air was warm and everything felt still and silent; you would have been able to hear a pin drop in that moment. Despite everything, you thought it felt right that you should do it here and now. You didn’t think you would be able to wait to find your way back to the tourist site anyhow, and you certainly didn’t think you would be able to recapture this moment of utter stillness and silence later in his third story apartment in the middle of Gangnam.

He ran his hand along your right leg, starting at your calf and ending at your upper thigh as he leaned over you. You reached over to the colourful fabric of your bag and unlatched the magnetic button. You felt inside with one hand, the other slowly pulling the white cord of Taehyung’s trousers until the small bow came undone. You found your wallet amongst a few cosmetics and an empty plastic bottle of Coca Cola and pulled it out, quickly snapping open the button which held it closed and reaching inside of the flaps for a condom. Taehyung raised his eyebrow, briefly, a small smile playing on his lips as you pulled out the small square foil and tore the edge. Reaching forward as he balanced himself above you, you pulled down his white linen trousers and plain, cotton underwear to free his erection. As remembered, he was both longer and thicker than you had initially anticipated and you found yourself admiring him through your eyelashes, your mouth lulling open as you pinched the tip of the latex and rolled it onto him slowly. He moaned as your hand grasped him, guiding him to the space between your thighs.

He sank into you slowly. It felt a little uncomfortable due to his size and the lack of preparation, but he anticipated this as he paused.

“Is it too much?” He whispered.

You shook your head and pecked his lips, once. He moved one hand to your face and stroked your cheek a little roughly with his thumb before burying himself fully. You gasped together, pressing your faces close.

“It’s good.” You reassured him as he gazed down at you. “You feel good...” He hesitated for a moment before moving his hips against you, pulling almost all of the way out before pushing back inside. You felt him stretch you; could feel the tip of his cock pressing and brushing against your sensitive walls as he fucked you slowly, all the while watching your expression with slightly parted lips. You moved your head upwards to meet his lips. His hands trailed to your hips as he pushed his pelvis against the backs of your thighs; thrusting into you as far as he could go. You moaned breathily as he increased his speed. You suddenly heard the flapping of wings somewhere above your head, in the canopy of trees as a bird took flight. You thought Taehyung might have suddenly become aware of his surroundings as he pushed against you, now practically slamming into you in an attempt to reach his high. You held onto his shoulders tightly as he moved his mouth towards your chest and began to kiss along your breasts, above the fringe of your camisole; in wet, open mouthed kisses.

You felt him shudder against you as his hips snapped against you frantically. His lips met yours once again and he moaned loudly into your open mouth as you held him. His eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks like the delicate wings of a moth as he came. You felt him twitch inside you and he held you still for a moment, savouring the sensation, before slowly pulling out of you. He reached down, between your slightly damp thighs, to grasp the condom as he withdrew. You exhaled in a long, deep breath as he moved away from you, turning away from you to remove the condom. You took a moment to gather yourself, suddenly feeling a little ridiculous as you looked at your surroundings and a little ashamed at your lack of self control. You sighed and reached for your discarded underwear, slipping them back on and rolling your skirt back down over your bare knees.

Taehyung had knotted the condom and held it in one hand. He reached for your hand with the other and, with a sweet smile, pulled you to your feet. You brushed your cami and skirt down, smoothing out the fabric as you looked at him, your cheeks and chest flushed. He flashed his teeth in a grin as he reached with his spare hand and pulled a few twigs and leaves from your brunette hair.

“Thanks.” You said, reaching down to pick up your wallet and tote bag. “Here...” You reached into your bag and produced the empty bottle of Cola. “I don’t want you littering.” You kept a straight face, still feeling a little bashful as Taehyung took it from you and discarded the used condom in the bottle. You hid it back in your bag, promising yourself that you would get rid of it as soon as you passed a litter bin. He took your hand gently in his as he lead you back up the gentle slope and towards the deserted forest path.

“Does this mean I can call you my boyfriend?” You asked after a few minutes. You had once more passed the small fish pond and thought you would be able to make it back to the tourist path before it got too late and started to get dark.

He turned to look at you and grinned. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he flashed his teeth. You felt your chest ache once more at how sweet he looked, in the warm light of the afternoon. “I hope so.” He squeezed your hand tightly. “I hope I get to see your play...”

You paused. “Hmm?” Questioning.

“Virginia Woolf. I hope I get to see it before I go to America.”

You smiled and nodded. “I hope so too.” You stood on your tiptoes and kissed his cheek, inhaling his gentle, vetiver scent as you walked along the quiet path, hand in hand.

***

Thank you so much for reading. Please leave a like/comment.

To read each member & their girlfriend’s headcanon universe fics in order, follow the links here: RM   /   Jin /   Suga /   J-Hope   /   Jimin   /   V   /   Jungkook

Our full masterlist can be found here!

[azalzalsramblings]

I don’t read enough

Says man who’s about to list the 52 books he read this year

In an insignificant order bellow the cut.

1.The Steerswoman  by Rosemary Kirstein

Fun Adventure, mildly generic but refreshing.

2. Radiance by Catherynne M. Valente

Holy fuck this book is absurd, it’s great.

3. Palimpsest by Catherynne M. Valente

Portal fantasy where sex is the portal, it’s great.

4. The Refrigerator Monologues by Catherynne M. Valente

Can you tell I like this author? If you like comic books you should read this.

5. All the Birds in the Sky by Charlie Jane Anders

This book has some of the most interesting magic I’ve ever read and the best depiction of modern culture I’ve ever read.

6. The Tombs of Atuan By Ursula K. Le Guin

Ursula K. Le Guin is amazing, the “protagonist” of this series doesn't’ show up until half way through this book.

7. The Farthest Shore By Ursula K. Le Guin

The Protagonist in this book shows up in the beginning but he’s mostly being Gandalf and the focus is on his companion.

8. Tehanu By Ursula K. Le Guin

Revisiting characters and pointing out the problematic elements of a book that came out 20 years ago, bravo.

9. Who Fears Death  by Nnedi Okorafor

I need to learn more about African mythology.

10. A Closed and Common Orbit  by Becky  Chambers

Really fun ride, great companion piece to current QC, well Antho PC focused elements of QC.

11. Ever Fair  by Nisi Shawl

Interesting if not greatly carried out book.

12. The Obelisk Gate by N.K. Jemisin

Read this fucking book. (It’s the Sequel to “The Fifth Season” Read that First)

13. The Stone Sky by N.K. Jemisin

This better win the fucking Hugo (mostly so N. K Jemisin gets the first hat trick in Hugo history)

14. Woman On the Edge of Time  by Marge Piercy

I can’t decide if this should be read as companion piece to “Slaughter House 5″ or “One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest” probably both.

15. Ancillary Sword by Ann Leckie

OH MY GOD I GET IT, IT’S ABOUT SLAVERY! Still good though.

16. Minaret by Leila Aboulela

Good book, it provides a compelling immigrant story.

17. Northern Lights (I read the UK Version)  by Philip Pullman

One of the best YA books ever written, re reading this series was an excellent idea.

18. The Subtle Knife  by Philip Pullman

See above.

19. The Amber Spyglass  by Philip Pullman

SPOILERS: Prepubescent sex saves the multiverse. Also there’s like, four or five lines that are different between the UK and US versions, I had too look up what they were.

20. Who Could That Be At This Hour? by Lemony Snicket

Different enough from “Series of Unfortunate Events” to be necessary, still has nice call backs.

21. When Did You See Her Last? by Lemony Snicket

Good book, probably not as strong as “Series of Unfortunate Events” but worth the read.

22. Shouldn’t you be in School? by Lemony Snicket

Uh, there will be a spoiler tag on the next book.

23. Why Is this Night Different from all Other Nights? by Lemony Snicket

SPOILER: Having an eco terrorist as the main villain in a children's book is fucking brilliant. The end is telegraphed but then again I’m probably a decade older then the expected audience for this book.

24. The Children of Hurin by J.R.R Tolkien

Interesting book, it’s probably has the most direct evidence of Tolkien stealing from other mythology (As you only have to mildly well read to see exactly what he’s stealing).

25. Norse Mythology by Neil Gaiman

It’s just good. It’s nice to have a modern version of all these legends. I hope he continues to rewrite legends, especially lesser known ones. ((This is elaborating on the last point) Yes I know having a white man write a book about African Mythology is can be somewhat problematic but I’m sure he’d do it respectfully) Also saw him read from this.

26. Red Storm Rising by Tom Clancy

Favorite factoid about this book, Tom Clancy played table top war games to help outline some chapters. That said it is kind of hard to get though and problematic at times. It does have a female fighter pilot who shots down satellites so that’s cool.

27. The Iliad by Homer

SUPER GAAAAAAAY

28 The Odyssey by Homer

The famous part of this is like, four chapters in the middle, mostly it’s “Where fuck is Odysseus and how do we deal with these dickwads in my house?”

29. The Symposium by Plato

See note for The Iliad .

30. Dragons of Spring Dawning  by Margaret Weis , Tracy Hickman

Fun adventure book, not 100% satisfying end to the series (I would have preferred a huge show down with I’m not looking up the name for Dragonlance Tiamat)

31. Dune  by Frank Herbert

There’s a reason this book is legendary, it’s that good, also read relatively quick if you read it while you’re taking a week off work.

32. The Lurker at The Threshold  by H.P. Lovecraft, August Derleth

It’s Lovecraft.

33. Hamlet by William Shakespeare

Not about tiny pigs, still good though. I’m probably still not smart enough to understand all of it.

34. The Prose Eda by Snorri Sturluson

Read this after/before/with Norse Mythology, seeing the various versions of the tales is interesting. Also the version I had went into a lot of the Norse literary elements which is fun (Viking is a kenning I think, it might be a synecdoche )

35. The Library at Mount Char by Scott  Hawkins

Holy fuck this book is amazing, it might be my favorite book I read this  year.

36. The Quran by Muhammad/ Gabriel/Allah 

My favorite part of this book is the part where Muhammad throws shade on his Uncle. 

37. Women Without Men by Shahrnush Parsipur

This is one of the most bizarre things I’ve ever read.

38. The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy  by Douglas Adams

Timeless classic, I don’t know how many times I’ve watched/read/listened to this work.

39. The Restaurant at the End of the Universe  by Douglas Adams

Not as good as the  first, but still good, the Zaphod plot doesn’t 100% work in my opinion idk.

40. Life, The Universe and Everything  by Douglas Adams

Apparently started life as Doctor Who script, it’s a departure from the others b/c of this to some extent.

41. So Long and Thanks for all the Fish  by Douglas Adams

I’ve read this is considered rushed by some people, and I’ll admit it’s certainly different but I think it’s as good as any of the others.

42. Mostly Harmless  by Douglas Adams

Multiverse stuff is crazy in this. Also Elvis is in it.

43. How the Marquis Got His Coat Back by Neil Gaiman

Fun little romp in the Neverwhere world. The Neverwhere world is really great. I heard form his mouth he’s working on a sequel so that’ll be great.

44. David Copperfield by Charles Dickens

MY FUCKING COPY WAS ABRIDGED, still, it has its moments, I should reread it one day. I think I liked “A Tale of Two Cities” better.

45. A Portrait of the Aritst as a Young Man by James Joyce

Good book? I don’t think I’m smart enough to get this book. It’s certainly worth the time, I wish I understood it better.

46. Beren and Luthien by J.R.R. Tolkien

Holy fuck this book. First it has Christopher Tolkien giving very interesting commentary (is probably his last book he’s in his fucking 90)  second Luthien figuratively fucking bitch slaps Morgoth (Tolkien’s Satan), it’s great.

47. Too Like the Lightning by Ada Palmer

I’m convinced the author wanted to write an 18th century court drama or a science fiction book and decided “Por que no los dos”

48 For Whom the Bell Tolls  by Ernest Hemingway

Fuck Fascists (Note: This book is about killing fascists, I’m not implying anything about Hemingway although he’s basically the definition of an alpha male although he has some progressive moments like advocating for the elimination of fascism apparently, also has both a bad ass women and a one dimensional women)

49. Venus in Furs by Leopold von Sacher-Masoch

Compelling read, I can see why it was controversial in its time but it’s tame by modern standards. It has its issues but is still a fun read.

50. Venus in Fur  by David Ives 

Sexy, funny, commentary on the above, can be read in like, 2 hours. If you don’t wan to read “Venus in Furs” at least read this.

51. Her Smoke Rose up Forever by James Tiptree Jr

If you read one thing from this read “The Screw-fly Solution” it’s on of the most effective short stories I’ve ever read.

52. Frankenstein by Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley

This book isn’t about why playing god is wrong, in my opinion that view is 100% indefensible by the text. It’s about why men need to take responsibility for the life they bring into this world.