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[calware]

would you ever share a list of your fave fics to reread ? Id love to hear your recommendations and faves

sure thing :) i'm only going to list works that have been going on for a while (or at least have gotten past the very beginning of the story) and that i've read all the way through. i'm also not going to list any of the super iconic fics i like because this list is already pretty long. these are all based on stuff that i personally find more interesting to read about, mostly focused on the human characters and not a lot of romance

i don't really know if these first two count but they're too good to not include:

Jade Route by spicyyeti

a post-epilogues comic centering around jade, this is my favorite homestuck fanwork. i especially love the artwork and the way it frames the story. it is reaaallllly hard to read it on a phone so make sure to read it on a computer or tablet

House of Dirk by imarriedacherub no rating - graphic depictions of violence - 13,570 words - 20 chapters (unfinished) A sitcom about completely normal and well-adjusted newlyweds Dirk and Caliborn attempting to make a good impression on their son, Dave, and his boyfriend, Karkat.

another comic, this one hosted on both ao3 and mspfa (though the ao3 version has more pages). i like how ridiculous it is. will probably never be finished, sadly

moving on to the actual fics:

Reallocated by breezefulskies mature - chose not to use archive warnings - 324,756 words - 65 chapters (unfinished) Hal finds himself stranded aboard a certain meteor, impact-bound for Houston, Texas circa 1995. And everything spirals out from there. Because sometimes, when a system seems to be just short of defunct, all that is required is to take a step back and reevaluate the materials at hand and redistribute your available resources. And so, with birth comes a countdown on a cycle that begins as it ends: In the red.

hal is mysteriously sent to earth via unknown means and finds himself raising a baby as best as he can, which, given that he's glasses, is not easy. this is my favorite homestuck fic, not just because it's about hal, but also because i love the focus on family dynamics and the plot as it unfolds. begging everyone to read this, i can't say what happens exactly without spoiling things, it's just really really good. at the moment, it updates once a month

Ersatz Abyss by katreal mature - no archive warnings apply - 120,092 words - 39 chapters (unfinished) You look into the mirror to find your own face looking back at you. You laugh. And then you cry. Last, you try and figure out how you got to this moment. The Auto-Responder had long since resigned himself to an artificial existence, his only dwindling hope for escape hinging on a promise that has yet to be fulfilled. Then one day he wakes up, Dirk nowhere to be found. What's the point in getting what you want, if you can't show off a little?

another great hal fic. i managed to get my roommate (who has not read homestuck) to read this and they really enjoyed it, so i'm sure you all won't have any problems liking this one either. there are a lot of fics out there of hal getting a body, but this one is very different in that it's not the happy ending that you might first think it is. this fic perfects the feeling of everything snowballing into a bigger and bigger problem until it all falls apart

Falling for the First Time by nobrandhero teen - no warnings apply - 63,818 words - 11/17 chapters The game is over, Alpha Earth resets to 2009, and Dirk's bro doesn't live up to expectations. The movie director who appears so chill and stoic in interviews is actually a talkative, needy dweeb like his teenage counterpart. It's not a bad thing, as far as Dirk's concerned.

for whatever reason, i'm a sucker for fics where the characters somehow end up on earth again post-game, and out of all the fics that follow that concept this one is my favorite. sadly, this one barely touches on jane and jake, but it's pretty interesting to read about what dirk and roxy are getting up to with their guardians (and the earth) restored to their previous conditions

The Haunted Harley House by hemoanarchists teen - chose not to use archive warnings - 78,462 words - 23 chapters (finished) There is an old house you built a long long time ago, alongside someone very close to you. Now as you don a new name, slipping back into society to care for a descendant, to whom tragedy has left you as her only family left, you take her to the house, the house that bears your family name. You really shouldn't have been surprised when he came to join you. It is his house too, after all.

carlah, a young girl who lives on earth c, has just been taken in by her uncle "jacob harley" after her mother's death. as time goes on, she slowly learns more about the true nature of her new guardians and the house they all live in. normally i'm not that interested in OCs but i love how intriguing carlah is as an outsider of the story. it's really easy to get invested in her as she uncovers a mystery we all know from the beginning and another that we have to learn along with her. shoutout to dysfunctional family dynamics

actually, while i'm at it, i'm going to recommend a bunch of other stuff he's written:

Atlantis Bound teen - chose not to use archive warnings - 33,263 words - 8 chapters (unfinished) Dirk tracks down an old friend

prequel to the haunted harley house but can also be read after (or separately). i really like the dynamic between dirk and vriska here, and i also love the way vriska's repeated reincarnation is utilized. vriska's journey through the newest iteration of her life while dirk watches over her is soooo captivating, especially when snippets of her previous lives are sprinkled in throughout. do you guys love cycles? personally i love cycles

Cherubian mature - chose not to use archive warnings - 54,011 words - 29 chapters (unfinished) The 5000 year time skip never happened, at the dawn of time the gods desperately try to guide the planet into a better future. But with tensions rising it feels like one bad day could bring everything crumbling down.

all of dante's earth-c god fics as a whole changed my brain chemistry and this acts as the beginning (and catalyst) of that overarching story. a lot happens in a very short amount of time

Transitional teen - no warnings apply - 1,860 words - oneshot a simple question what changed when you went godtier?

super simple but also an interesting exploration of the headcanon that players' bodies change when they go godtier. the twist is that each "change" is unique to each character and relates to their Self in some way

Monster under the bed teen - chose not to use archive warnings - 2,573 words - oneshot Skeletons in the Closet mature - chose not to use archive warnings - 2,910 words - oneshot Small Talk teen - no warnings apply - 8,944 words - 6 chapters (unfinished)

putting all three of these together because i believe(?) they're all part of the same narrative

[gracieheartspedro]

I Can See You

PART 3 is HERE!

joel miller x fem! reader

Hi lovers! Sorry this took so long, life got busy and ADHD is a bitch. But here it is! My next post will probably be a different drabble/one-shot. If you have any requests, PLEASE hit me up! I am open to a bunch of different ideas!

Word count: 3k+

Warnings: MINORS DNI! 18+ pleaseeee, DBF! Joel, age gap-ish (the reader is 25, Joel is 39), joel is a bad cook, smut, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), fingering, pet names, tons of dirty talk.

Outline: She gets invited over for dinner and a movie night? Just a movie, huh?

PART 1 PART 2

“So Joel told me he’s coming over today,” Dad says from across the dining room table as I eat my breakfast, “With Sarah?”

I stop and chew slower, trying to hold back a smirk.

Ever since we fucked in the conference room, I’ve been texting Joel every day. Sometimes it was naughty sexts and other times it was him asking how my day was going and what my weekend plans were.

A couple of days ago, he called me instead of texting, which was odd. He asked if Sarah could come swim in our pool because she wouldn’t stop asking about it. 

So I agreed, telling him that Saturdays were the best day for me. I also told him he had to be around just in case anything happened and I wouldn't be 100% liable for Sarah’s well-being. 

“Yeah, I told her she could come over and swim in the pool. She wanted to practice her backstroke.”

He smiles, “Nice for you to have her over, but are you okay with it just being y’all? I can stay home from this conference so I can entertain Joel.”

I shake my head quickly. Maybe a bit too quickly.

“No dad, it’s fine,” I take a sip of orange juice, “They will only be here for the afternoon. It’s not worth you missing two days in Houston. You need to go.”

He takes my word for it and hurries to finish his breakfast. He should’ve left at 6am, but here we are at 10 and he’s still not left. I texted Joel under the table as soon as he took his plate to the sink. 

Pops is still here. You and Sarah are welcome as soon as he leaves.

I bring my half-finished eggs to the trash, scooping them into bin. 

“Do you need me to leave my credit card?”

I shake my head, “No, it’s fine. Joel is buying us pizza in return of allowing Sarah to use our pool.”

“You better not have told him we needed something in return of using the goddamn pool,” Dad fusses, “He is always welcome to it. God knows you hardly use it.”

I roll your eyes, “No, I didn’t say that to him.”

I actually told him that he could bend me over the kitchen counter in return for using the pool. 

I feel my phone buzz. 

From: Joel Miller

Can’t wait to see you, baby.

–

Dad left, and not even an hour later, Joel pulled up with Sarah in his truck. He was sporting some black swim trunks and gray t-shirt. Sarah giddily got out of the truck, sporting a pink one piece and flip flops. She hurried to the door, where she found me sporting the skimpiest bikini I owned. 

It was a red triangle bikini top and the cheekiest bottoms in my collection. Something very casual. 

Sarah gave me a warm smile, racing into the house and to the back sliding doors. It’s like she knew exactly where to go. Joel took his time grabbing their stuff. I lean against the door frame, taking him in. 

As soon as his eyes met mine, his eyes quickly averted down my body. He creeps closer, slinging his towel over his shoulder. 

“Evil,” He mutters walking pass me, “You can’t be doin’ this around Sarah.”

I smile, shutting the door behind him. He looms over me and I get a whiff of sunscreen. 

“Doing what?” I ask innocently.

He glances into the back yard where Sarah is already getting ready to jump into the pool. He’s making sure she’s not watching.

His arm wraps around my waist, grabbing onto my bare ass. I feel very small when I look up at him. His brown eyes bore into mine. 

“You sure are lucky that my Sarah is here, because if she wasn’t,” He pauses, “I’d take you right in front of the window here.”

He gestures to the window right by the front door. 

“But you’d like that wouldn’t you? Show the neighborhood who’s pussy this is.”

His hand rests right above the hem of my bottoms. I bite my lip. He knows what to say to make my brain melt and my words jumble together. But it’s a game.

I needed the chase, it made everything with Joel so much more satisfying and dangerous. 

I contemplate for a moment, before grabbing his chin gingerly.

“Why don’t you order those pizzas, babe?”

-

“Look at this dive, Dad!”

I prop myself up on my lounger chair, watching Sarah dive into the deep end. Joel is meandering around the pool, his skin so beautifully touched by the sun. His tan was deep and seeing it glisten with the water all over his body, was just icing on the cake. 

“Very nice, baby,” He glances my way, noticing I’ve finally risen from my spot. After stuffing myself with pizza, I knew I had to lay out and let my bloated stomach go back to normal. 

I watch him rise from the water, using the steps to make his way over to me. The weight of the water drags his shorts a bit lower and seeing his toned tummy was a sight to behold. 

I look around him to see Sarah swimming laps, making sure she was occupied. He plops down next to me in the other lounger, grabbing his aviator suns from the table between us. 

“What’s your plans while your dad is gone?” He questions, propping his sunglasses on his nose. 

I shrug, leaning towards him to whisper, “Thinkin’ I’ll go across the street and fuck that hot MILF everyone won’t stop talkin’ about.”

He shakes his head, “That poor lady has a name, ya know?”

“It’s like Susan, isn’t it?”

“Lauren.”

I groan, “She even has a hot girl name! God damn!”

He chuckles, “No but seriously, what are you doin’?”

I look over to make sure Sarah couldn’t hear me. I watch her dive into the water again, “No plans. Just hangin’ around.”

He nods, laying back onto the chair, “Why don’t you come over tonight?”

My stomach drops. He asks it so nonchalantly.

“When Sarah is home?”

“She’s going to her grandparents tonight. They are takin’ her to some baseball game.”

So we get to be alone?

“Oh, okay,” I thought for a moment, “So you want me to come over and do what?”

“I don’t know,” He mumbles, “We can watch a movie. I’ll cook.”

If you would’ve asked me a month ago, I never once would have imagined a moment where Joel Miller would even give me the time of day. Now he’s asking to hangout with me outside of work? Spend time with just me? It seemed out of the realm of possibilities.

But I love that the offer stands.

“Sure, I’d love to,” I pause, “As long as the cooking is good. If not, we are ordering out again.”

“Hey,” He grumbles, “Fuck you, I’m an excellent cook.”

It’s like Sarah got superhuman hearing all of a sudden because she quips up.

“Don’t believe him! He burns eggs every morning!”

“Hey, you eat them anyway!”

-

I arrive to the Miller’s around 7PM. I decided to walk again, trying not to tip off any of the neighbors leaving my car parked beside Joel’s truck. I decide for a black hoodie, jean shorts, and Converse. I didn’t bring a bag of things because technically, Joel didn’t say this was a sleepover. I am running on the assumption I am leaving after our… movie night?

I knock quickly, glancing back and forth between Joel’s neighbors. Both are pretty familiar with my dad, so I knew if I was spotted, they would rat me out. 

Joel swings the door open, this time, fully clothed. A casual outfit for Joel, jeans and a light grey t-shirt. 

“Come on in,” He mumbles, “Did you drive?”

I shake my head, “No. Walked. I took shortcuts, too.”

He grabs me quickly, pulling me inside. He glances around outside, making sure no one is outside. 

“I already had Mrs. Adler askin’ why I took Sarah over to your house today,” He says, shutting the door, “Hate when people are in my business.”

“What did you tell her?”

He smirks, “That I was fuckin’ my bosses’ daughter.”

My cheeks get hot. 

“Nah, just that you were givin’ Sarah time in your pool to practice her swimmin’. She stopped with the questions after that.”

I smack his chest, bringing down my hood. I take off my hoodie eventually, sporting a simple white tank top underneath. I toe off my shoes, propping them up by the door.

“We fucked once, so technically we aren’t fuckin’,” I tease, “Unless…”

He starts his way to the kitchen ignoring me.

“You hungry?”

–

Joel was a bad cook, but I wasn’t going to come in with judgment when it’s a free meal and he made it just for me. 

He stares me down from across his small dining room table, waiting for me to say something. We sit in silence for most of the meal. Not uncomfortable silence, just too in our own heads, I guess. I eat the last of my burnt brussel sprouts, trying not to let him read my mind like he usually does.

“You hate it don’t ya?”

I take one more bite, “I’m not a chef by any means either, Joel.”

He laughs, “That’s a good way to put it, little one.”

The nickname makes every hair on my legs stand up. He notices my demeanor change. He stands up, collecting our plates and brings them to the sink. I stand up to begin to help him, but he has other ideas. He stands over me as soon as I get up, his dark brown eyes raking me up and down. He reaches up to my biceps, running his warm hands up and down them. 

“You like it when I call you that?”

“What?” I croak out. I knew what he was talking about, but for some reason I wanted him to keep saying it. 

“Little one,” He whispers, “My little one.”

I swallow hard, “Y-yeah.”

“Gets you all riled up? Makes you think of the first time my face was between your thighs?”

I close my eyes, letting his hand start to run down my face, to my jawline, to my collarbones. I take in his scent. Amberwood, aftershave, and maybe a bit of cigar? It was intoxicating, his scent. 

“J-Joel,” is all I can mutter, “P-Please.”

I open my eyes finally, seeing him smirk, “What baby? What do you want?”

“Do it again,” I mumble, “I want you to do that again.”

His hand travels down to my waist, and with one arm, he hoists me up to the kitchen counter. My jean shorts ride up even more as he positions himself between my legs. 

“I need more than that, little one,” He says, “What exactly are you talkin’ about?”

He was going to make me lay it all out for him. I don’t know why I felt shy again, like I couldn’t say what I needed from him. 

Like before, he looks so tall and big standing over me. His hands feel so strong and his arms so toned. I wanted to jump his bones watching him at the pool earlier, watching him be at ease with no shirt on. His confident stride and stature was so attractive. 

“Speak up,” He demands, “Need you to say it.”

“I need you,” I drag it out, “I need you to eat me out.”

He starts hooking his fingers through my belt loops, lifting me out of my shorts, “What else?”

My mind goes blank for a second. 

“Fuck me?”

“No please?” he taunts.

“P-Please Joel,” I mutter, “Don’t make me beg.”

He chuckles lowly, “Oh I fuckin’ will.”

He doesn’t waste time completely tearing my thong off my body. I lean back, my head resting against the cabinets. The thong gets tossed across the room, now useless after being torn in two. 

He reaches up to bring my head forward, crashing our lips together. Our tongues battle instantly, both of us wanting to be dominant. He was so forceful, but it was everything I needed to be more sure in myself. I reach up, lacing my hands in his hair. 

He pulls away, his breathing fanning my already hot face, “You gonna be good for me, baby? Use those manners?” 

“Of course,” I moan, “P-Please do something.”

He takes off his shirt, his muscles highlighted differently in the low lit kitchen. I couldn’t help but stare as he gets on his knees, his face eye level with my pussy. 

God, I could never get over this view. 

He presses forward, giving my inner thighs kisses and small little love bites. 

He hooks both legs over his shoulders and dives in. He doesn’t start slow, oh no, he goes full starving-man-mode. He starts using his tongue to write the alphabet up and down my slit. When he finds my clit, he wraps his lips around and sucks. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” I moan, “Don’t stop!”

He breaks away, only to put his index and middle finger into his mouth. He watches me as he traces my slit with his fingers, smiling as he sinks them into my hole. When he’s satisfied with my reaction, he finds his way back to my clit.

Between his fingers fucking me and his mouth working magic on my bud, I scream out not able to contain the build up I feel in my stomach. He only increases his speed, the wet lapping sounds only causing me to burst. 

He fucks me through it, as I moan his name over and over again. 

He pulls his fingers out of me, and stands up from his spot. My ass stays half on the counter and half falling off. I am basically only propped up by his leg. 

“Now that I got one out of you, little one,” He suggests, “’m going to fuck you until you can’t stand.”

I was so fucked out of my mind, I’m like jelly in his hands. He shimmies his pants off, his boxers tented by how hard he was. I just smile at the affect I had on him. 

“You okay to stand?”

I giggle, “I don’t think so, sir.”

As soon as I say it, I don’t have to worry about standing anymore. He reaches for my waist and repositions me on the counter. I stare down between us, his hard cock rubs my sensitive slit. 

“You’re so pretty, little one,” I hear him in my daze, but before I can respond, he eases himself into me. I moan out due to the glorious stretch, letting him get fully sheathed inside me. Instead of keeping me on the counter, he hooks his arms under my knees and lifts me up. In my shock, I wrap my arms around him, tucking my face into the crook of his neck. 

He sets a brutal pace, not paying much mind to my groans. It wasn’t that it was uncomfortable, it was just so much. 

My mind goes back to what he said, which only gets me more riled up. 

“God, I’m so full,” I moan into his ear, “You’re so good to me.”

I can feel his smile, “Better than you’ll ever have, baby.”

“You’re all I want,” I say absentmindedly, “I’m all yours.”

He props me back on the counter, pulling out of me briefly. He is throwing me around almost like a ragdoll. He lifts me up and spins me so I’m facing away from him. He moves my arms, so I can actually prop myself up on the counter. He lines back up, pushing himself back inside me. From this position, he somehow hits me in different places. He readjusts my body before settling back into a faster pace. With his right hand on my covered tit, his left hand reaches up to my throat. The sounds of slapping are so overstimulating in the best way possible. I couldn’t get enough. 

“All,” Thrust, “Fucking,” Thrust, “Mine.”

I feel the warmth in my stomach again. It had to be the mixture of him calling me his and the fact that his dick was hitting me in just the right spot. As soon as I hit my tipping point, it’s like he could tell because he slows down, his hand traveling down to my clit again. I fall over the edge, my eyes rolling back into my head as I moan out his name. My entire body is tense until it’s not. I fall forward, but before my head catches the edge of the counter, he holds me up against him. 

“I’m ‘bout to cum,” he groans, still fucking into me, “Want me inside?”

“Cum inside me, Joel,” I beg, hardly able to project my voice. 

I’m at his mercy, as he spills inside of me all the while telling me what I good girl I am. I finally find my footing, as he slips his cock out of me, letting his cum drip down my legs. He releases my body, walking away from me for a moment. I try to get ahold of my bearings, but all I can think is how I never want to stop doing this. I want more. 

I need more. 

“Here, turn to me baby,” He mumbles. I turn around noting the damp rag he has. He gets on one knee, using the rag to clean up his cum off my legs. I’m still very sensitive, so when he gets close to my mound, I jolt. It makes him giggle. 

Post-orgasm clarity started to hit me. I watch him stand up and lay the rag in the kitchen sink next to our plates. He was so fucking beautiful, his body glistening with sweat. He had to be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. 

“You okay?”

I wet my lips, “I think I need you to fuck me every day.”

His beautiful smile reappears, “Is that so?”

I nod quickly, “Yes, sir.”

He creeps closer to me, his hand lacing around my waist again. 

“I’m sure that could be arranged,” He leans down and kisses my shoulder blade, “Now, which movie should we watch?”

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

reach for the stars

cw. olnf week 2024, pre!release, step 3-4 (step 1 flashback), established!relationship

pairing. sparkling leaves

notes. day 4 of @olnfweek2024. arguably the day i was looking forward to the most because i had a very creative interpretation of the stargazing prompt. i can't believe i've written consistently 4 days in a row for an event week, that's the power of olnf i guess

“Did you know I can hold stars in my hands?” 

“Really?” Tamarack perked up at Nyla’s sudden revelation, raspberry eyes wide in amazement.

“Uh huh!” Nyla grinned, scooting closer to her best friend on the leaf-dappled ground.

It was a good day in Golden Grove. First and foremost, it was Friday, the best of all weekdays. Mrs. Murray played The Nightmare Before Christmas for the last half-hour of class and even passed out cookies. The day was only made better when Mom didn’t mind if Tamarack spent the whole weekend at their place. Until the hour drew for dinner and bedtime near, though, the two girls were content to play in the forest they called a backyard.

It had only been a few months since Nyla and her mother moved to the mountainous town in Oregon but it felt like she’d known Tamarack Baumann her entire life.

“Show me,” Tamarack whispered in awed excitement. Tamarack believed in the magic of the world as easily as she breathed, both of them did. If Nyla could do something as magical as holding stars in her hand, she wanted to see it.

“Alright,” Nyla started coyly, shifting so that she sat in front of Tamarack. “But you have to close your eyes first.”

Tamarack squeezed her eyes shut fiercely, giggling all the while. 

Nyla had met a lot of people in her 10 ーalmost 11!ー years of living.

Some of them had black hair like her and her parents. Some of them had green. Some of the people she met even had hair that was red, pink, purple or peach! But none of them ever had hair that sparkled, Tamarack was the first and only. 

It was amazing.

Nyla had plenty of questions about it ーwhere the sparkles came from, how they never fell off when Tamarack’s grandma brushed themー but Tamarack never had any good answers about it. Her hair just sparkled, that’s all there was to it. It’s something simply Tamarack. Nyla thought that was the answer she liked the most.

“Tada!” Tamarack opened her eyes and excitement turned into surprise as she took in how close their faces were.

“Where are the stars?” Tamarack blinked up at the taller girl.

“I’m holding onto them already,” Nyla beamed, heart fluttering as she held gamboge waves in her hand. They sparkled like a million precious jewels. It’s hard to breathe as Tamarack’s berry-red eyes look up at her, just as shiny as the sparkling hair that frames them. Tamarack Baumann is the prettiest girl in the world, Nyla knew this was the truth in its purest form. No one came close, not even Brittany Taylor who kids like Adrian Woodward swore was the prettiest girl in school. Nyla wiggled her fingers, marveling at every individual speckle that glinted in the process. “I’m holding stars in my hands.”

“That’s my hair, Nyla,” Tamarack giggled, shaking her head gently so as to not snag her hair on Nyla’s fingers. In spite of her protest, Tamarack’s cheeks were flushed. “That’s not a star.”

“Nope,” Nyla emphasized the ‘p’ stubbornly but mirthfully, brushing her thumbs across Tamarack’s fluffy locks. She felt as pink as Tamarack’s cheeks, both of them smiling widely despite their differing views. “I’m holding stars.”

Nyla chuckles lightly at the memory as her thumb and index finger toy with a lock of her girlfriend’s hair. Sitting in the living room of Tamarack’s childhood home, watching the Cinderella movie Brandy and Whitney Houston with Tamarack is a far cry from the young girls they once were running amok through the forest. Back then, their responsibilities were few and far in between. Presently, they were simply housesitting for the Baumann elders as they went on a trip to Long Beach to celebrate their 50th anniversary.

I was obsessed with Tam’s hair back then. Watching the soft golden speckles glint in the dim glow of the television, Nyla’s lips curl into a lazy smile. They’re laying in a comfortable position on the convertible couch mattress, Tamarack resting her head on Nyla’s chest. Not much has changed, I guess.

One cool day in autumn, Nyla moved to Golden Grove and was struck with a paper airplane that changed the trajectory of her life forever.

But considering how we were neighbors, we would’ve met eventually. Plus we had school the next day too. Logic is pushed aside for the magic that was their first meeting. Fate had been at work that particular day Tamarack caught sight of a bright-eyed fellow new kid looking for something to throw herself into. Nyla wouldn’t have their first meeting go any other way.

Girls like Tamarack should be met in the forest.

Looking at the soft, sparkling crown that grows from her head, however, Nyla thinks girls like Tamarack can be met under the light of the moon too.

But with how she carries the stars with her wherever she goes, my girl can go wherever she wants. Nyla presses a firm kiss atop Tamarack’s head and her girlfriend giggles, arms squeezing just a firmer. She may have lost a portion of her enthusiastic squeeze but Tamarack still gives the best hugs Nyla’s ever received.

Tamarack shifts so that she is able to look at Nyla properly, a serene smile adorning her face. “Hey you,” she murmurs softly against the sound of Prince Christopher’s parents fussing over the party preparations for his birthday.

“Hey,” Nyla’s fingers run through Tamarack’s chin-length hair without shame.

Tamarack’s eyes squint with a gentle but playful gleam, “you’re not paying attention to the movie are you?”

Nyla doesn’t argue against the observation, “oops,” she says despite sounding not particularly bothered she’s been caught. “Looks like you caught me. Guilty as charged.” We’ve seen this movie a million times anyway. Nyla is sure she could quote it in her sleep. Could sing the songs in perfect harmony, mostly perfect. She only gets to look at Tamarack in this specific moment once and she is going to cherish each and every second.

“And what’s got your mind so preoccupied,” Tamarack inquires dreamily.

“Just stargazing,” Nyla murmurs before pressing their lips together.

not enough people wax poetic about the fact tamarack's hair sparkles, so i decided to go full throttle

[strictlyfavorites]

Donovan Edwards #7 above

HOUSTON — It's now how you start, the classic sports trope says. It's how you finish.

Turns out, the answer is both.

Behind a powerful running game, Jim Harbaugh and the Michigan Wolverines put together stellar first and fourth quarters in a 34-13 triumph over the Washington Huskies to win the 2023 national championship.

On the opening possession at NRG Stadium, Kalel Mullings slipped out of a tackle to pick up 14 yards before Donovan Edwards rushed for a 41-yard touchdown. Edwards ripped off a 46-yard scoring scamper on the next drive, and Blake Corum soon followed with a 59-yard sprint.

Nine carries, 174 yards, two touchdowns.

And that was merely the opening frame.

Michigan's initial surge on the ground sparked the final victory of the team's 15-0 campaign—one that secured the program's first national title since a shared 1997 crown.

Monday brought a familiar blueprint for Michigan, which focused on the run while the defense owned the game.

Washington quarterback Michael Penix Jr. zipped his picturesque spiral throughout the night. However, the Maize and Blue prevented an offense that entered bowl season leading the country in passes of 30-plus yards from completing such a throw for nearly 53 minutes.

In total, the Dawgs mustered 301 yards with Penix averaging a meager 5.0 yards per attempt on 51 throws. He tossed two interceptions and dealt with constant pressure from Michigan's disruptive front.

That defensive effort proved vital for the Wolverines, who struggled to move the ball in the middle quarters.

They managed a field goal after Will Johnson snatched an interception on the first play of the second half. Otherwise, the offense had a stretch of five punts and a turnover on downs. The lull allowed Washington to hang around until the midpoint of the fourth quarter.

Clinging to a 20-13 lead, Michigan found some breathing room.

Colston Loveland's 41-yard reception led to Corum's decisive 12-yard touchdown run with 7:09 left in regulation.

Washington drove inside the 30-yard line on the ensuing possession, but U-M's star nickelback Mike Sainristil picked off a 4th-and-13 prayer, returned it 81 yards and set up Corum's second touchdown.

Michigan closed the victory with 303 yards and four trips to the end zone on the ground. Corum collected a team-high 134 yards and two scores, while Edwards added 104 yards and two touchdowns on just six carries. Plus, quarterback J.J. McCarthy chipped in 31 yards.

And the celebration was on.

Nine adventurous years into his tenure—one which may be ending in the immediate future if rumblings of his potential return to the NFL are true—Jim Harbaugh is a national champion.

The prodigal son, officially, has brought his alma mater back to the top of the sport's proverbial mountain.

If that was Harbaugh's final game, what a fitting way to finish.

HC Jim Harbaugh

During the last three seasons, the Wolverines have boasted one of the sport's best offensive lines. Michigan earned the Joe Moore Award—which is given annually to the country's top offensive line—in both 2021 and 2022 before Washington landed the honor in 2023.

Earlier in the week, U-M left tackle LaDarius Henderson told On3's Andy Staples that "it definitely stings" the blocking unit missed out on a three-peat.

Winning a national title in that fashion is a decent consolation prize.

The future of the program will rapidly become the greatest focus in Ann Arbor; Harbaugh understandably side-stepped questions about the NFL at multiple media availabilities throughout the week.

On this night in Houston, however, the nation's No. 1 team won in the same manner it had all year: Run the ball and shut 'em down defensively.

Michigan started the season that way, never wavered and rode the philosophy to a third consecutive Big Ten title and third straight trip to the College Football Playoff.

It's how you start. It's how you finish.

And the Wolverines have ended as national champions.

[b-afterhours]

Avenue of Sins: Neon

A Sequel to Avenue of Sins

SUMMARY: ‘90s. It’s the aftermath. Jaded, Bill and Alma navigate their new lives as they try to drag themselves out of the dark debaucherous trenches they had once ensnared themselves in. It’s easy to forget their evils when a silver lining introduces itself into their lives but can they create a less hedonistic life that would be just as satisfying?

WARNINGS: adult content, mature readers only.

The completed first series can be read and found here.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Alma

She was born in Houston, Texas, in the spring of 1962. Her father, Antonio, was a multigenerational Tejano. Her mother, Maria, from Jalisco, Mexico, lived in Texas. They met through her brother. He and her father worked as young men together doing commercial landscaping. One day, he was invited for a cold beer after a hot, sticky, humid day on the job. On her brother’s orders, she met the men sitting under the shade of the back porch with two bottles of beer for them. Politely, he took off his hat and thanked her, and from then on, he couldn't stop thinking about her. 

Alma was nine months old when they left Texas. She had no recollection of her life there. Her parents left with others, mostly friends, who told them about good-paying work in Missouri. So they took the chance. Starting over fresh as a family unit now. They lived short-term in several other places until they ultimately settled in Strathburg when she was four. So it was the only place she’d ever known. 

Growing up in the town, however, came with some strife. They didn’t look like everyone else. They had tan skin, and their names were difficult for the hicks to pronounce. She didn’t know it then, as she was too young, but when she got older, she could recall the racist remarks being made about them. Her parents didn’t fight it, instead they took it. Eventually, everyone realized that they couldn’t run them out of town, and so they tolerated them. 

Her parents were as good as you’d want any parents to be. They wanted her so badly. They loved her so fiercely. Her dad would toss a ball around with her, and her mom would let her play in her makeup. They did their best to keep up with her, even in their older age. However, she could see a look flash across their faces, distant and mournful at times. Her mother thought of her sister Liliana, wondering if she had lived, would she and Alma look alike. Her dad taught her to be independent because he didn’t know how long he and his wife would be around for her. Around him, she was a bit of a tomboy, learning to do oil changes and fixing flat tires. Activities he would have taught his son Leo if he had lived. 

She learned she was under the shadow of her deceased siblings rather quickly. Ever since she could remember, they had an altar in their home under a framed photo of Our Lady of Guadalupe. Her hands clasped and her gaze low, keeping watch of the little white ceramic urn that stored their porcelain ashes. It may have been macabre to some, but Alma never thought it any different.

Being an only child, some nights she wished for them too. Wished to not be so lonely, wished that her parents wouldn’t look at her sadly in times they thought she didn’t notice. They loved her, but she was a reminder of what was lost and what they could have had too.

She longed to be seen. She was given freedom in exchange for good grades. Even if it was the late ‘70s and most kids were left to their own devices, she was the only focus of her parents. There was not much you could do when there was no one else to blame. 

When she was thirteen, she went shopping with her mother for clothes that were more in style. Her mother freaked when she put on a more form-hugging cap-sleeve blouse. They left with knits and formless tunics, much to her dismay and protests. Alma’s body was changing, and that upset her mother. It worried her. That evening, Alma pulled a tee-shirt taut behind herself and looked at her reflection in the vanity mirror. She had boobs. She knew that, but she didn’t think about it any other way other than she was growing up. This was what was supposed to happen. That night, she saw just another thing that made her different. They were big for her age. She looked down at her hips, and they seemed even wider now, too. Her body was now just another barrier that kept her from being seen.

At the town record store, she perused the bins for something new. She’d venture into many genres that summer after her freshman year of high school. Rock being one. All mainstream bands, but she liked what she heard. One day she came across a punk album, and she quickly let go of it, shocked by the band's vulgar name. She took a gamble, sheepishly bought it, and held it close to her chest when she got home and went straight to her room with it.

It was like her brain was rewired and mashed at the same time, hearing the scratchy guitars, heavily thrumming bass, clashing drums, and lyrics rapidly being screamed. All somehow in rhythm and yet offbeat together. She just wanted to listen to more and more and found anything she could get her hands on that summer. It gave space for this silent rage she had inside herself from years of staying in line. The angst of wanting to break out of where she was and grow elsewhere. The very in-your-face feeling of being unapologetically yourself and abandoning the notion of conforming. Just wanting to scream at people to fuck off and dig deeper instead of taking what was expected of them. 

…

1981

It was a hot day in late spring. It was the weekend, and she made plans to be at the latest field party, one way or another. Her fringe backpack was packed with extra clothes, her shoes, and cuter underwear. Her mom entered the kitchen, seeing her pack the burritos she had made to go in the same bag. 

“Entonces vas a Carla's?” She asked. She was dressed comfortably, feeling and looking better than she usually did. 

“Si, amá. Ya me voy.” She said securing her bag before putting it on.

“Mm. Y cómo llegas?” 

“Con mis roller skates.” She smiled.

Maria pursed her lips a little. “Pues. Be careful.” 

“Si, amá. I’m spending the night so-”

“Preguntaste a tu papá?” 

“He said yes.” 

“Ah, ok. Pues cuídate, mi amor.” She said, kissing her daughter on the cheek.

Alma pushed off her roller skates on the smooth road at a leisurely pace. Enjoying the sun and the breeze running through her thick hair, which had grown out since she impulsively cut it short during late fall. Her parents weren’t very happy about that. Especially her mother, but in the end, her dad defended it and said he thought it was pretty despite not preferring it.

A male neighbor with his children was washing his truck outside his home and waved at her as she passed by before she made a sharp left turn. The opposite way from Carla’s home. It was just a short detour to Bill’s house. That week had been a bit awkward between them. They hung out fairly often outside school, but that was usually mostly on weekends. They only had one class together in school, and their lunch schedules switched every other day because they were on different block schedules. It was never an issue. But after last weekend, Bill remained fairly distant from the beginning of the week until that past Wednesday, when they ate lunch together. 

As she strolled closer to Bill’s home, she could see him outside on the pathway leading to the porch, crushing aluminum beer cans with his heavy second-hand combat boots and tossing the crumpled metal into an old wheelbarrow. 

“Hey!” Alma yelled, coming to a stop as she rolled up his driveway. 

“Hey,” he smiled, scratching his bare arm a bit sheepishly. He was wearing a ratty black sleeveless shirt and jeans, which he reserved to do work in. They were stained with random paint splatters and tattered. Ready for daily wear now that they are well-worn in. “What are you doing here?” He asked, tossing the rest of the cans into the wheelbarrow. 

“I’m on my way to Carla’s. Her parents are away.” She said, skating up the cleared pathway to stand closer to him. 

“Like for real? Or do you want to hang?” 

“For real.” She giggled because sometimes Carla was used as a cover. “But I wanted to drop this off.” She shrugged a backpack strap off and swung it around to her front. Bill looked down at her as she dug inside it. She looked pretty today, he thought, but he thought that every time he saw her. “I ended up with extra so,” she said, handing him two burritos wrapped in wax paper. “It’s potato and like serrano, onions, and tomatoes. Uh, you’ll see.” She said quickly, feeling a bit embarrassed because she had been made fun of for the ethnic food she ate by classmates in the past. 

“Rad. Thanks. Thank you.” He could kiss her if he allowed himself to. He was starving. Really fucking starving. He only had white bread and a tin of unnaturally pink, salty potted meat to eat that day. 

The rumble in his stomach pained him now that he knew he had proper food in his hands. He would have been ashamed if anyone else had given him food, but Alma never made him feel like some charity case. It was always genuine and caring. Yet he held off on monstrously devouring the burritos in the presence of a lady and placed them on a chair by the front door for later like a civilized person.

“Um, are you going to take off already or?” 

“I guess I could hang out a little?” She lightly shrugged.

Bill grabbed the handles of the wheelbarrow, and then he looked down at her skates. “Get in.” He nodded towards it.

“No way,” she laughed. “I’ll get cut.” 

“You’ll be fine. Surface area, you know.” 

“Oh, so you do pay attention in class.” 

“Get in.” He impatiently said with a boyish smirk on his face. 

As gently as she could, Alma sat on top of the crushed tins, clinking together and digging into her lower back when he began to push her to his backyard. They laughed together as mischievous children would. 

“What’s with the TVs?” She asked when Bill helped her out of the wheelbarrow. His hand discretely grazed her hip as he did so. 

“Uh, they have copper in ‘em. Scotty found them on the side of the road and dropped them off to me yesterday.” 

Bill had been scrapping metal for months now. Aluminum, brass, and copper from wherever he could get them. Saving up money for his move to New York City. He helped her sit on top of an old, rusty washer and watched as he stuck long pieces of gray duct tape to the glass screen of a TV. 

“What are you and Carla getting into?” He asked, crouched down and ripping a piece of tape with his teeth. 

“The field party.” She tilted her head at him. “You never said if you were going or not?” 

“Eh…” he said with apprehension as he smoothed down the strip of tape. His fingernails were speckled with flecks of chipped black nail polish.

Just then the worn-out screen door opened and out emerged his brother Gustaf in the midst of pulling a shirt on.

“Hey!” He yelled to his younger brother, and then he softened a bit once he noticed he had company. “Oh. I’m leaving.” He informed. “Hi, Alma.” 

“Hi.” She nodded. 

She didn’t really have an opinion of him. Usually, he kept to himself a lot when she was around, respecting their privacy. In both instances, his oldest brother, whom she’d only met twice, was barreling back into the house drunk. Kicked out of a paramour's house for the night smelling of cigarettes and some sickly sweet scent underlined it. The other times she saw him, he was passed out, unaware of anything going on around him. In the times when his father was home, Bill never allowed her to stay over and instead opted to go to hers. It was a bit of a haven for him in those times. 

“Yeah. Okay,” Bill said dismissively as his brother saw himself out. “But, uh,” he sighed as he turned his attention back to Alma. “I don’t know. It’s the same shit every time.” 

Alma rolled her eyes. “What else is there to do around here?” 

“Everyone’s gone now.” He gestured toward the house. “We could watch a movie or something? We could watch The Warriors.” 

Alma bit her lip in thought. She could stay, and maybe what happened last weekend could progress. However, she had promised Carla, who hadn’t been to the field parties yet, that she’d take her. 

“I can’t,” she said apologetically. “Just go. It’s the last one of the school year.” 

“How are you getting there?” He questioned.

“Tara has a car now. Early grad’ present.” 

Bill scoffed. “Shit.” 

He didn’t really like half the group of girls she often hung around with. They weren’t very nice to him if they was forced into some interaction in class. Otherwise, they left him alone. They didn’t understand Alma’s relationship with him either, but they chalked it up to her, feeling sorry for him as if he were a clingy, stray dog. In many ways, they found her strange, too.

“I doubt she’d be thrilled, giving me a ride.” He said, grabbing an old wooden baseball bat, leaning against the washer she sat on before helping her back on her skates. 

Alma frowned, looking up at him. “There wouldn’t be room either way. Nadine is coming too.” 

“My brother just left with the car.” He scoffed in frustration, scratching the nape of his neck in thought. “I guess I could call Scotty.” 

“So you’re going?” She smiled. 

“We'll see.” He winked as he handed the bat over to her. “Here. Smash the screen in.” 

Alma skated up to the TV, and with a downward swing, she connected with it. A slight crack could be heard, but it wasn’t so impressive, which made Bill laugh. 

“Oh c’mon. Harder.” 

Alma steadied on her skates and pulled the bat back further and put more strength into the second swing. The screen satisfyingly caved in. They both laughed with glee at the destruction. It felt even a little cathartic. The duct tape contained the glass, and when Bill carefully peeled it away, it revealed the spiderweb pattern skittering away from the bat’s blow. 

“Are you actually going to call Scotty?” Alma asked him just before leaving, shuffling on her skates backward on the road. 

“Yeah. I’ll see you there.” He said absent-mindedly, grabbing a lock of hair that was resting on her shoulder. It made her hold her breath involuntarily. 

Once she left, he scarfed down the burritos she had given him, and he could physically feel his body absorbing the nutrients from it. He moaned with satisfaction, even. They were gone in what felt like an instant, and he frowned. He mostly relied on school lunches to keep him fed, but of course, it just wasn’t as good as a homemade meal. It was better by miles.

He walked to his neighbor's house, sniffling a bit from the spiciness of the peppers, and was greeted by the redhead preteen girl who lived there, asking to use their house phone. She was completely unimpressed by him. Once, Bill warned her that she shouldn’t answer the door for just anyone, as it wasn’t so safe to do so.

“I know that,” she snarkily retorted. “But it’s just you.”

His phone line had been cut off for weeks now as his father left the bill unpaid. How he hated living the way he did. Every issue he was met with was just so very inconvenient. All he had motivating himself now was that, soon, he would be gone. In a new city where he could have some control over his life for once. While he knew it wouldn’t be a cakewalk, at least there was no one else to blame but himself.

The only thing he wished was that he could take Alma with him. Their plans for their future were swiftly diverging further away as the school year was coming to an end. No longer would they hang out in town or sleep over each other’s places. No more taking his brother’s car to do donuts in a vacant parking lot when they should be asleep. It would just be phone calls or letters. Maybe he could convince her to eventually meet him in New York, but knowing her, he had to be delicate with how to propose that idea. She would jump on the moment to leave with him rather than go to college. He recognized that she was impulsive in a way. He didn’t want that. His future wasn’t as secure as hers, and he didn’t want to hold her back. He’d feel shitty about himself if he did. 

~~~

Alma was with Carla now, in her room, hot-gluing a paper clip she bent in half to a beer bottle cap. Carla was a bit pious and a lot more sheltered than Alma was. She was also an only child, and they came from the same cultural background. Their mothers would arrange playdates for them as children, and they have remained friends since. 

Alma plucked cooled, hairlike strands of hot glue off the bottle cap before passing it off to make another. The bottle caps she found were collected inside a plastic margarine container, and when Bill asked what she wanted them for, she lied and said she was thinking of making a bottle cap belt. In reality, she was making Barbie furniture—an end table, in this instance—for Carla’s doll house. She would rather die than have Bill find out she still played with dolls sometimes. A few years ago, she had gotten rid of all her childish toys and came to regret it in the end, but luckily Carla still held on to hers and didn’t mind sharing. Who knew that in the future, Bill would be playing with his own real-life dolls one day? Especially with her.

“Did you bring the books?” Carla timidly asked. She had paused, painting the end table with pink metallic nail varnish.

“Oh!” Alma said, pushing off the floor and crawling over to her backpack just to drag it back. “Yeah. I haven’t read the fantasy one yet. You’ll have to tell me if it’s good, but this other one has a firefighter. A cute one, too.” She smirked, handing the romance novels over to her. 

She had to smuggle them to her friend because her parents were a bit strict. Alma hid hers only because she would be mortified if her parents knew the subject matter inside them. She wouldn’t know how to explain herself. It would just open her up to a whole other can of worms. Her parents knew of her friendship with Bill, but they believed it to be innocent, or as innocent as they believed their daughter to be, at least. They thought she knew better and was taught better than to entertain the advances of men. However, she was a teenage girl, and while doing more than heavy petting was daunting, she was just too curious. Her body, she knew, gave her power most don’t often get. The problem, though, is that she didn’t trust so easily. She only trusted one person, who seemed not to be too interested in her. At least not as interested as most teen boys would be, especially with the access she granted. 

“You know, there are some cute FFA boys that go to the field. I met one who was a volunteer firefighter once.” 

Carla bashfully clasped her mouth as she giggled. “But I can’t… I don’t know how to talk to boys.” 

“You don’t have to. Just let them look, you know?” She playfully widened her eyes.

“Hmm.” She bit her lip in thought. “I don’t have anything to wear. Help me? What are you wearing?” 

Alma smiled excitedly when she asked. “It’s new. I went to the mall with Tara a few weeks ago, and,” she paused, digging in her back and pulling out a black halter top with a flowy midriff. “And then, these jeans.” She stood up then, holding the tight black jeans against her body.

“Your mom let you get that?” 

“Obviously not,” Alma laughed. “But I’m eighteen now. I should be able to wear what I want.” 

“I mean, yeah…” Carla said nervously. Even if she admired the garments, she just didn’t have the courage within herself to wear them if she had the option. Besides that, she had never seen Alma in anything but mostly formless tunics. “I know you’ll look pretty in it!” 

“Are you two really playing with that for real?” Carla’s cousin asked with her mouthful as she was eating a moon pie when she walked back into the room. Mayra was in town from Houston and was a year older than them.

Alma noticed her friend frown and didn’t like that. “What’s the issue?” She asked, but Mayra’s only response was to roll her kohl-lined eyes at her.

~~~

At his home, Bill was enjoying the space alone for once. He was in his bedroom in only white briefs, looking through his dresser with a skinny joint between his lips, and listening to radio music at a light volume. From his dresser, he pulled out an army green button-down he had gotten from an army surplus store. With a red magic marker, he had decorated it with an anarchist symbol on the breast pocket. He laid down in bed undressed, and taking the last puff of his joint, he closed his eyes, contemplating. 

While he did find the field parties to be repetitious, Alma was right. It was something to do. However, that wasn’t the reason he was so indecisive about going. It was because lately, he couldn’t stand to see Alma talking to boys or vice versa. He knew he didn’t have any right to feel that way, as they were only just friends. Even reminding her as much. Yet, in the last few months, they have been rather flirtatious. In the way, they spoke to each other. Their hands touching and caressing in loving ways. Holding hands while walking home from school or their sleepovers, where they would innocently sleep, but still their bodies met and cuddled.

It was such an instance in which he went too far. In Alma’s bedroom, like any old night, he had gone before. When he arrived, he briefly watched her outside the open window. She was sitting on a violet shag rug in the middle of her floor, painting her toenails blood-red, unaware that there were eyes on her. She was in a white, knee-length baby doll nightgown, her damp hair was French braided, and her face was fresh and bare. He could hear her humming to herself as she dipped the brush back into the polish bottle, twisting it closed. 

“Hey,” Bill said as his lanky frame climbed through her window. 

She gasped loudly and clutched her chest, startled by him. “Bill?!” She harshly whispered. She pulled her nightgown down to cover her lap, as she wasn’t particularly sitting modestly, thinking she was alone. 

“Shh.” He lightly laughed, sitting on the floor next to her. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“You didn’t scare me.” 

“Mhmm.” 

They hung out for a little. She even painted his fingernails with black polish, asking what he did that day. It was late when he arrived, so once their polish dried, they were in bed. He brought his copy of a dystopian sci-fi graphic novel to read alongside her under the dim light of a bedside lamp she draped a red chiffon scarf over. Alma listened to him softly read it out loud to her, making different voices for the characters and all. They started the novel the weekend prior, and he picked up where they had left off. She yawned just before he could get to the climax of the story, and he laid the book on his chest to look at her. 

“Sorry, I had work this morning.” She said with heavy eyes and nuzzled her head on his shoulder. 

“Oh, yeah,” Bill said understandingly. He had come to know that she would work at the local Dairy Queen during the summers, but she started a month early for extra money for college. 

They slept under the covers, inches apart, as if they were leaving any substantial room for Jesus. Their mornings together, they’d be pressed against each other in some way. That early morning was a bit different, though. He had woken slightly and moved his hips away from her bottom. He wore soft shorts, which he wore under his jeans that he had taken off before getting into bed. He felt his cheeks get hot with embarrassment over the erection he had woken up with.

It wasn’t the first time his body betrayed him in this way, but usually, he’d back away from her and tuck it into his waistband, ignoring it. He wasn’t a virgin, but he wasn’t particularly proud of how he lost it. He wasn’t even seeking out sex when it presented itself to him, in the form of an early 20s-something hippy straggler living in his home. Charlene had been making passes at him, which he just couldn't pick up at fourteen, almost fifteen years old. He thought she was interested in the weird, nerdy things he spoke about. Maybe she was in a way, but it wasn’t so sincere in hindsight. 

In their first encounter, she placed a hand on his hairy thigh, and he froze a bit. The next thing he knew, she was blowing him on the couch, and he was scared out of his mind as they were in the living room and anyone could have walked in at any time. He came into her mouth, and she swallowed it, much to his shock. She laughed when she saw his large green eyes looking at her in disbelief with a hint of disgust. He spent a few weeks confused and conflicted about it, as she was technically with his brother, Gustaf. Then they were alone one night. He walked into his bedroom, and she was lying there in his bed with dirty feet and giggling at the nude magazine she found under his pillow. 

“Do you want to see mine?” She asked, pointing at a photo of a nude woman seductively spread eagle on the hood of a muscle car. 

He gave her a strange look because he had seen hers a handful of times now after her showers, but he wasn’t that naive. He knew exactly what she meant. He hadn’t been with anyone else since, at least not that closely. There were other girls from his old school he’d fool around with, but Charlene had laughed and teased at how fast he came his first time. Even so much as taunting at the mess he made on his belly and chest. It messed with his head for a long while. 

With Alma, it was different. He knew if they did anything, he would never get the fuck out of Missouri. That type of intimacy wouldn’t do either of them any favors in the grand scheme of things. He caught himself wanting to kiss her multiple times now, and as their friendship grew, the urge to be closer was getting more and more apparent between them. They were friends, but they didn’t behave as friends would lately. Especially when they knew they were on borrowed time.

Bill took a deep breath and tried to find sleep again until Alma scooted back and pressed her bottom against him again. He stilled for a moment. It felt as if she had awakened too, but he couldn’t be certain because he didn’t want to peer over to confirm it. She rutted her bottom against him again, and her nightgown slipped up, revealing her basic white, floral underwear to him. He bit his lip and gulped. 

Alma lay there with her heart racing, pretending to be asleep. An uncomfortable dampness was between her legs. It wasn’t the first time she had felt him at attention against her. More often he’d sleep through it, but it seemed as if he were more aware of it lately and would shift his hips away from her. She felt his hand on her hip, trying to smooth her nightgown back down. Instead, she grabbed it and slowly dragged it over to the front of her sex. Her eyes remained closed, and his hand froze in place. 

She could feel his chest rise nervously. They remained silent, but suddenly some mutual agreement was made between them in the quiet. They would do this, but fall back on the claim that they were asleep and had no recollection of it. Neither would ever mention this moment, too embarrassed about their teenage urges even as adults. 

Bill cupped her sex as she ground her bottom onto him. In turn, it stimulated the bundle of sensitive nerves ever so beneath her underwear. She could feel him hard-pressed against her bottom and the small of her back. Shallow breaths escaped them, enjoying the feeling. Alma’s breath hitched when he applied more pressure with his hand. He could feel her wetness soak through her panties, but he didn’t dare touch her so directly. The sense of her arousal and the thought of doing so undid him. He held her tightly as he humped and huffed until completion into his boxers. 

They both stilled themselves, too scared to even speak or confront what had just transpired. Instead, they both pretended to sleep until he gained the courage to rise out of bed. He lightly shook her shoulder, waking her, and whispered that he needed to help his brother with something that day.

“Hm, okay…” Alma said, meeting his eyes, but they were avoidant. “I’ll see you later, then?” 

“Um, yeah…” He said, pulling up his pants, but not before Alma had noticed the wet spot on his shorts. 

He then avoided her for a few days at school until he got over himself. When he spoke to her again, she acted as if it never happened. Ignoring both the incident and the silent treatment. For which he was grateful, but there was an obvious shift. 

Bill finally got out of bed and got dressed after jerking off about it like he had been all week. This time it was out of necessity because there was a high chance he’d be alone with her at some point. He didn’t want to pop a boner he knew he wasn’t going to do anything with. Regardless, he tugged on the chain to his wallet and opened it, double-checking if he still had a condom inside, just in case. 

Scotty was obnoxiously honking the car horn outside Bill’s house while he stole sprays of his oldest brother’s cologne before leaving. He checked himself in the broken mirror by the front door and unbuttoned his shirt to his chest, showing the white tank underneath. He wanted to look nicer than he usually did, but this would have to do.

“Taking forever, man!” Scotty laughed. He was a friend from his old school, but he had already graduated a year before. 

“Yeah, whatever.” He fist-bumped him and tossed his leather jacket in the back seat. “Thanks for picking me up. I can give you some gas money.” 

“Not a problem, dude. Just roll up a few while we head up there. The stuff is in the glove box.” He said tapping it. “Oh. And we're pickin’ up Jones.” 

Once Jones joined them, they were on their way. Bill sat with his knees together to hold the Mad Magazine in his lap, using it as a tray to break up the weed to roll up. Scotty was vivaciously speaking about random things and laughing at his own jokes. He was a good-natured guy, but sometimes he could be too high-energy. Jones, however, was more even-mannered, just along for the ride. He wasn’t even so much like them either in regard to sharing similar interests. But being one of the few black kids in town and befriending two white punk kids who didn’t mind scraping with others of their kind provided some buffer of protection.

“Are any of her friends cute?” Scotty asked Bill, passing a lit joint to him. 

“Eh,” Bill shrugged as he took a hit. 

“He only thinks his girl is cute,” Jones laughed in the back seat. 

“They’re okay,” Bill said, exchanging the joint for the flask of Jim Beam with Jones. “For you two, losers.” He laughed as they scoffed with offense. 

“You gonna ask Alma out, dude? Or is it still NEW YORK, NEW YORK!” His outburst was sung to the tune of Frank Sinatra’s ode to the city. 

“Impressive.” Jones quickly quipped as he passed the joint back to him.

“Oh. Yeah, you like that, Jones,” He winked at him through the reflection of his rearview mirror to which his friend just chuckled. “Anyway, as I was saying.” He said, turning his attention back to Bill.

Bill gave him a strange look. “Yeah…”

“Ah, well. I guess you can’t have it all.” Scotty lamented. “There are tons of other babes out there, though. But before we get off subject, I have a song for you, Billy.” He chuckled deviously, searching around the center console for an 8-track. 

He ejected the 8-track that was in the player before and popped the new one in. After he skipped a few tracks, a familiar bass riff began playing, and he turned the volume dial up. Bill shook his head, annoyed yet amused. It was Why Can’t I Touch It by the Buzzcocks. 

“You dickhead! I told you that shit in confidence.” He said, but he laughed along with the boys in the car.

~~~

It was dark around the edges of the bonfire at the field party. Carla was feeling a bit wary and uncomfortable. Alma helped her choose a nice skirt, which she helped hem with discrete stitches to meet her knees. There wasn’t much Alma could help her with because her closet didn’t have much to work with. The most she was able to accomplish was curl her hair and let her borrow her red lipstick to wear. 

Alma and her cousin, Mayra, were talking to country boys from a neighboring town as she stood by awkwardly. People who lived in the circumference of the field would all meet and mingle, coming together to drink, smoke, and maybe get lucky. Alma was taking a swig of an unknown brown liquor being passed around, and when it came to Carla, she hesitated until she saw her cousin smirking, knowing she’d decline it. Proving her wrong, she took a large gulp, but her face was full of immediate regret.

“Oh my god. You okay?” Alma asked her when she heard her choke.

“Mhmm,” she said with puckered lips. “Nasty!” 

“Yeah.” Alma nodded understandingly. “I wasn’t thinking when I passed it over. Sorry.” 

“No. No, it’s cool.” 

“I have some brews. Would you two like that instead?” A young man wearing a cowboy hat and a lip full of chewing tobacco politely asked them. 

“Sure.” Alma smiled. 

“Could I get one too?” Mayra butted in. 

Eventually, Alma ventured to where Tara and Nadine were, which was closer to where cars would pull into the field to park. Bill was still nowhere to be seen, and now she wondered if he was coming at all. They were talking to Bruce and Casey from school, the two most annoying jocks in school. While she stood around them, pretending to be interested in the conversation, she decided to venture back to Carla to check on her. 

She was doing fine. More than fine, she found some cute FFA boy to talk to, and they were both bashfully laughing with one another, leaning on the tailgate of a truck. Alma was stuck on where to go then, until the cowboy beckoned her over, holding out the bottle of whiskey toward her. 

~~~

“Fuckin’ finally!” Scotty said, cutting the headlights off and creeping the car into a spot under a large tree. “We’re already missing out,” he said, pointing at a car with foggy windows.

“I’m going to go find us some beer,” Jones said, exiting the car before them to get the night going. 

“Wait, but I–” Scotty began to say, but Jones had woven into the crowd and disappeared. “I have beer in the trunk.” 

Bill walked to the back of the car with Scotty, and together they chugged a beer and tossed the cans before grabbing another. After Scotty put on his jean vest that was adorned with studs and band patches, they began walking around. Their presence didn’t look so inviting, as they were both pretty tall and lanky, but they also had pierced ears and unusual haircuts. Scotty’s dark hair was spiked up with gel and hairspray, and the sides of Bill’s hair were shorn very short but long on top and laid to the side. Scotty would always try to convince him to get a mohawk because it was nearly there if he buzzed the sides narrower. 

“Oh, look, Skarsgård brought his girlfriend.” Bruce Fetterman teased them when they crossed paths. 

Their eyes darted towards him with objection. Then Scotty blew him a kiss, taunting him, and Bill joined in making kissy noises. 

“Fuckin’ freaks.” Bruce spat on the ground with disgust. 

The boys laughed as they sauntered away, unbothered. It amused Bill that his tooth was still chipped, which made him look stupid. 

“Where the hell did Jones go?” Scotty wondered out loud as he scanned the field. “And where is your girlfriend?”

“She’s not–”

“Yeah, whatever dude,” Scotty interjected. He knew their story, and he knew his friend had been dragging ass. “Hey!” Scotty harshly tapped Bill’s shoulder and pointed. “That’s… that’s Alma?!” 

“Huh?” He quickly looked in the direction he was pointing at.

A few girls were dancing in a truck bed to The Stroke by Billy Squire. Then there was Alma standing on the edge of the dropped tailgate and dancing as well. He’d seen her dance in his room on occasion, so that wasn’t so shocking. It was the fact that now she was on display for everyone to enjoy. However, his heart stopped when faced with her bareback. He could see her soft tan skin in the light of the bonfire’s blaze. Was she topless? He thought in a panic until she turned and saw she was covered. Well, as covered as you could be in the top that she was wearing.

“Holy shit…” he said, metaphorically picking his jaw back up off the ground.

“Yeah. Holy shit.” Scotty repeated. “C’mon,” he said, tapping Bill’s shoulder and leading the way over. 

“Who are those guys?” Mayra asked Carla across the way after she essentially blocked her from the boy she was speaking to. 

“Who?” She asked, following her gaze. “Oh. I don’t know about the other guy, but the one in the green shirt is Alma’s friend.” 

“That’s Alma’s friend?” She said with disbelief. “She plays with your Barbies, but that guy is her friend?”

“Like kinda more than friends, really.” 

“There’s no way.” She laughed incredulously before taking a sip of her nearly empty beer. 

Mayra saw Bill put two fingers in his mouth and whistle loudly over the music. Alma turned her head in the direction of it, flipping her hair back, and squinted. She didn’t have her glasses on, but she recognized his figure and smiled brightly. She crouched down and hopped off the truck, hearing some disappointed groans from the boys who were watching. Mayra’s eyes followed her as she practically skipped over to him in her wedge heels, and he wrapped his arms around her, picking her up off her feet with a big, dimpled grin on his face. 

“I told you.” Carla laughed at her cousin's jealousy and decided to seek out the boy she had been speaking to earlier. 

“You look,” Bill trailed off, scanning her from head to toe as his heart raced, noticing her cleavage. 

“It’s too much.” She questioned, feeling a little self-conscious now. 

“No! No.” He shook his head.

“Not at all.” Scotty parroted as he scanned the crowd, looking for either Jones or a girl to talk to before he was delegated to third wheel. 

“Good to see you again, Scotty.” She greeted. 

“Likewise. Always a pleasure,” he put an appreciative hand on his chest and bowed his head politely.

Alma smiled appreciatively. “Uhm. What took you so long?” 

“Well.” 

“That was my fault,” Scotty interjected. “Caught a flat tire on the way.” He waved at someone with acknowledgment then. “Ay, I’ll catch you two later.” 

“Yeah, the tire blew. Guess who had to change it?” He said, slightly miffed, showing the dirty marks on his hands before rubbing them on his jeans. “Uh, do you want to grab a beer?” 

She nodded, and he took her hand in his and led her back to Scotty’s Buick. Bill reached through the open driver's side window to pop open the trunk, and when he rounded the car, Alma was bent, grabbing beers from the foam ice chest in the back. He gazed at her back again, and when she stood upright, the fabric on her top shifted, and he could see the side of her breast. She passed a beer to him, and then she lifted the bottom of her top, revealing more supple flesh, to pull a flask she had tucked into the front of her tight jeans. 

“I stole it from one of the country boys,” she smirked. 

“They’re going to come looking for it,” he chuckled, watching her take a swig. 

“Fuck them,” she said, passing it off.

They settled, sitting on the front fender of the car, watching the bonfire. They were parked a bit away, but they could still feel the heat emanating from it. 

“There’s a lot of people here tonight,” Bill said, scanning the thick crowd. 

“Last party of the school year. You know what I was wondering earlier?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Whose field is this? Someone has to own it, right?” 

“Shit, I don’t know.” He said, turning his body towards her more. “No one? People have been coming here forever, even my brothers when they were in school.”

“Is it weird that this is your last field party in Missouri?” Alma asked, peering up at him. 

“Mm.” He lightly shrugged. “No… I’m over it at this point.” 

“Right,” Alma sighed. And over me too, she thought. “I’m sure New York’s parties will be a lot more fun. I’m a bit jealous. I’ll miss you.” 

Bill bit his lip and looked away. He could feel his nerves creeping up on him. “Y-you should, should visit when you can. We can party together?” 

Alma smiled. “Yeah!”

“But like when I’m able to get my own place, you know? It might take a while.” 

“Mhmm. Are you still on track moneywise?” She asked carefully. 

“Yeah, yeah.” He said, sounding more sure than he felt. “Just trying to add some cushion in case, right?” He paused to take a drink of his beer. “I’ll miss you too, by the way. But I’m not gone yet, don’t start giving a eulogy.” 

Alma playfully rolled her eyes. “But can I say, it’s going to be so boring without you?” 

“I mean,” he gestured smugly, agreeing, and she lightly pushed his shoulder. 

“Hey, Alma!” Their little bubble burst then. It was Mayra calling out to her. “Where’d you get that beer?” 

“Shh!” Alma harshly shushed her, putting a finger to her lips. “Don’t announce it.” 

“I’ll get her one,” Bill dismissively said as he stood upright. “Who is she?” He whispered before he walked off. 

“Carla’s cousin.” She informed him, to which he just raised his brows. 

“Sorry,” Mayra said, blinking her eyes to focus them. “Hi,” she smiled at Bill until she noticed he was handing her a beer. “Oh, right. Thanks.” She looked between him and Alma for a moment and suddenly felt intimidated. “Um…” she nervously cleared her throat. “I’m going to look for Carla,” she said, backing away like prey keeping their eye on a predator.

“Just don’t tell anyone where you got that,” Bill said, holding two other beers and giving her a strange look. 

Alma slid off the fender and passed Bill then. “What’s her deal?” He was confused about her behavior. 

“I don’t know.” She said dismissively, opening the door to the back seat and getting in. 

He did a double take, and then his stomach sank. He could feel his heart beating hard in his chest as he followed her in. The only strategy he quickly thought of was to immediately start rolling the back window down to keep them from feeling as if they had any real privacy. He exhaled with a bit of reprieve when he turned to see Alma doing the same. 

When she turned to look at him, her chestnut eyes reflected the distant flames of the bonfire. Her red lipstick had faded in the middle, only softly lining her pouty lips now. They spoke a bit in a friendly, joking manner, trying to break the obvious tension in the backseat as they sipped on their beer. 

“Take it easy!” Bill laughed when she took two swigs from the stolen flask. “Uh, there’s a joint in the center console.” He began to reach forward, but Alma pressed the flask against his chest, stopping him. 

His chest tightened, seeing her bent forward again as she rummaged in the console. Her bare back faced him again, so close in the confined space that he could see where the leather upholstery indented her skin. The urge to trace the lines and the freckles he newly discovered almost overtook him, but he retreated his hand to his lap. She sat back with the joint between her lips, now seated closer to him. 

“Got a light?” 

“Uh, yeah.” He procured a white bic lighter from his breast pocket and flicked the flame on.

She leaned into the flame, puffing on the joint until the ember glowed evenly. She peered up at him through her long lashes and smiled when he pushed a lock of her hair back to keep from getting caught in the glowing cherry. 

They passed it back and forth, their eyes getting low when the discussion of college came up. 

“Eh.” Alma grimaced. “I got accepted to the university, sure. But I don’t know; I might just go to community college. Save some money getting the bullshit out of the way, you know.” 

Bill frowned a bit because he knew she could make it at university, but he understood money was an issue with her mom's stacking medical bills. How he wished money would just never be a factor in decision-making for himself or Alma. 

“That’s half the reason I started my summer job early. But,” she reached for the joint he was passing. “Whatever. I’ll figure it out…” She took a puff, and it was obvious to him that she didn’t want to talk about it anymore. 

“Mhmm. Before graduation… uh, I was wondering earlier if you’d want to go to the springs again sometime? Sometime, you’re not working.” 

“I could call in,” she smirked. “But yeah. That sounds nice. The last time was fun.” She recalled when they went floating on spring break. 

He smiled because there was a place past the spring that he liked to visit when he needed to be alone and away from the chaos of his home. He wanted to take her there to see the serenity of it. 

They got cozier and more relaxed after finishing the joint. He had his arm around her now, and her knees hooked over one of his legs. In the distance, they could both hear the synth-piano tones of Telephone Line by Electric Light Orchestra. The chittering of crickets and cicadas blended into the melody. 

Their inhibitions slipped. Bill turned his body closer to hers, his fingers moving to thread through her hair as he cradled her head. It all just felt so delightful, their bodies buzzing. Their senses heightened with more dimension being stoned. Alma’s eyes fluttered closed as she felt his pixie nose trailing the side of her neck and his breath fanning across her skin. He could smell the scent of amber and warm vanilla on her goose-bumped skin. It was the sensation of his hair, which had fallen forward and grazed along her jaw, that gave her chills even in the lingering spring heat. Her heart swelled so much that she thought it would burst out of her chest. 

Her eyes opened when she felt his low-lidded stare on her. He looked into her eyes so intensely that she lost her breath, and the space closed in around them. He was going to kiss her. It was all over his face. Just as he leaned to clear the millimeters between them, he squeezed his eyes shut and quickly turned away. His face was marred with deep pain. 

“I can’t.” His voice cracked with regret. 

Alma bit her quivering lip when she felt his rejection and began rapidly blinking, feeling her eyes water. “Okay,” she croaked. 

He glanced at her and had to quickly look away again after seeing that he had hurt her feelings. Exactly what he was trying to avoid. He straightened up some and swallowed. Alma noticed the hand on his lap was balled tightly, his knuckles blanched, his nostrils flared, and she felt him tremble. 

“I’m sorry. I-I like you too much.” He admitted. “It’s not fair for me to… I’m leaving, I can’t.” 

Alma sniffled, trying to hold her breath to keep a sob from sneaking past her lips. She harshly wiped the tears that slipped down her cheeks, feeling so silly for them. It wasn’t very punk rock of her. His gaze remained on the floorboard because he couldn’t bring himself to see her so upset, knowing he was the cause. 

“Fine,” she said, taking a deep, shaky breath to settle herself. 

“It’s not.” He said with remorse. “I can’t even begin to explain how much I want to be close to you. But I can’t stay here, Alma.” His voice cracked again. 

“I know.” She sniffled. “You can’t,” she knew for his sake, he had to get out of his situation, regardless of how badly she wanted to be with him. “I like you too. Too much to make you stay.” 

Bill bit his lip and bowed his head. While it was so amazing to hear that she felt the same about him, it broke his heart. Because why him, she could find so much better than him. It felt undeserving. He quickly cleared the lump in his throat.

“I'll let you know whenever I finally get a place. I promise I’ll wait for you.” 

Alma sniffled. “Okay. Fuck,” she sighed, wiping away a rogue tear. Her biggest fear was that the distance would just prove to be too much for their friendship to persevere through. She still held onto the little hope she had and hoped that wouldn’t be true. 

“These last few weeks will be brutal if it feels this bad right now.”

“Fuck.” He inhaled deeply. “I-it doesn’t have to be. It doesn’t have to be, right?” He repeated. “I told you not to start giving my eulogy.” He finally looked at her, and he was glad he could amuse her a bit.

Suddenly, Jones was reaching into the driver's side to pop the trunk, and all three were startled by each other. Bill had a protective hold on her until they straightened up, and Jones felt a bit awkward, knowing he interrupted something. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Jones said with his hands raised apologetically. “Uhm… your friends are looking for you, Alma. One of them isn’t doing so well.” 

“Carla?” 

“I think?” 

“Hmm. I should help get her home.” She said, wishing she didn’t have to leave the party.

“Mhmm.” He nodded, following her out of the backseat. 

When they joined the party again, her friends were already around Tara’s car. The FFA boy helped a drunk Mayra inside with Carla’s help. At least the hard part was done. Bill pulled Alma into an embrace before she left him, and they melted into each other. He took the opportunity to rub her bare back unabashedly. It tickled and it made her giggle. 

“I’ll see you later?” She worried he would ignore her again after this, but she feared for even longer this time.

“Yeah,” Bill assured. “No silent treatment.” 

“Don’t do that shit again.” She lightly chastised, pointing a finger at him. “Goodnight, Bill.” 

“Hey,” he said, pulling her back by her hand. She looked up at him, and he was peering down at her with soft eyes. “I didn’t get to say. You look really pretty tonight. Beautiful.” He corrected. 

“You look good tonight, too.” 

“Eh, sure.” He said with a light shrug and scratching his chin, unable to take the compliment. “Goodnight.” He said, allowing himself to kiss the back of her hand. 

She took that as a cue to regroup with her friends, but as she stepped off she was still tethered to him as he hadn’t let go of her hand.  

“Alma,” he said, looking a bit more serious. “I’d kill for this to be different.” 

Alma sadly smiled, but she understood. “Me too.”

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

OC intro - Maddie Morgan

Here's another one of these! Feel free to ask about Maddie!

Basics

Cis girl she/her

At the start of Part One, Maddie is eleven

Maddie has long dark brown hair that goes past her waist. She usually wears it down but keeps it out of her face with a headband. She has honey-toned skin like her sister and bright blue eyes. She's small-framed and is about 4'7 at the start of the series. In Part One through most of Two, she has braces.

Admittedly, I haven't figured out her sexual or romantic orientation

Maddie is a Type-2 shapeshifter, meaning she can shapeshift into animals. It doesn't come that naturally to her, but it's easier the more she knows about a particular animal

Maddie, for all intentions, is a human from another dimension, Alium, which is full of super powered humans. However, Maddie was born and raised in the Houston area in the suburbs like her sister.

Character/Personality

Unlike her sister, Maddie is a lot more reserved. Despite being well-liked by most, Maddie doesn't have a large circle of acquaintances she considers her friends like Lexi does. Maddie just has her closest friend Kelsey, and she's perfectly content with that. It's actually quite confusing to her when people she barely knows strike up a conversation with her.

Maddie's interests include watching sci-fi and cartoons with her sister, building with Legos, and video games. She kicks ass at Mario Kart to name one. Maddie joins her school's robotics club since she loved building things and figuring out how things work. She'll take apart something and put it back together again if she's bored.

Speaking of which, she bores rather easily. She needs to be constantly doing something physical at all times. Occasionally, just for fun, Maddie may do something rather risky just to see what would happen. She's very curious about herself and the world around her, and is always eager to learn something new, especially if it's related to science.

Maddie comes across as rather blunt most of the time, but she's not trying to be. She says what she thinks, even if occasionally she'll state an opinion as a fact, since she's pretty confident in herself when it comes to that. She also is known for poorly-timed jokes in which she tries to lighten a situation, though this is not always appreciated.

Other Notable Things

Maddie is an autistic-coded character though I haven't found a good place to confirm this in canon. Probably no one is neurotypical in the cast because of who's writing them, but this was intentional.

Maddie likes to wear a lot of colors at once, especially spring-esque pallettes. She usually wears short overalls over a T-shirt and cute cowgirl boots or sneakers to go with them.

Maddie is in a choir class at her school.

Maddie has an older sister, Lexi. She considers her best friend to be Kelsey.

Tag Games on Maddie for More!

OC in three

OC in fifteen

Interview

Picrew

Two Truths and a Lie

Bag (what's in her bag)

Fun facts

Origin

Questionnaire One

Questionnaire Two

Questionnaire Three

Filled-in Bingo

Unusual Associations

Deep Dive

Outfit

Character profile

Cuddleability

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

@nebula--nix @literarynecromancy @honeybewrites @the-golden-comet

[swede1952]

Zoom Bird (Fastest Erradicus)

This is a barn swallow (Hirundo rustica) there were several zooming around of the water of a small lake near Houston, Texas. They are incredibly hard to acquire in a camera lens and the closer they are, the harder it is, but I did my best. This is not a great photo; it is the best of the photos I took of these birds.

I don't post all of the photos that I post here to my Pixels gallery, but I post the photos I like best. Some don't make the cut. I usually wait a couple of days and see how I feel about it then. It is unlikely that I will decide to post this picture to my gallery.

You can check out my gallery at:

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[thebookbin]

The Spear Cuts Through Water

Simon Jimenez

Publisher: Del Rey Genre: fantasy Year: 2022

Do you ever pick up a book for casual reading, and then get hit directly in the face with the rawness of the human experience? It was just supposed to be a casual read, and now you're contemplating the entirety of the human condition?

The Spear Cuts Through Water is one of the best books I've ever read. It might even be the best. I don't even know right now, I need a minute to collect my thoughts.

What makes this book so great is not only what it's about, but how it's told. The book is almost epistolary in nature, but instead of written letters, it's framed by stories. You embody the narrator, as he is told grand stories about the Old Country by his sharp-tounged lola. When I say embody, I mean this framing is written in the second person. You are the narrator, and he is the immigrant son of a merchant with nine brothers and a grandjo that never dies. As you grow up, and listen to these stories and sometimes tell them yourself, you are invited to the Inverted Theater in your dreams, a place your lola spoke of so wistfully. A place where stories are told, time is fluid, and the dream-selves from everywhere and everywhen commune. As you sit to watch the tale unfold, the five-day odyssey across the Old Country, you do so in the company of thousands of other dreamers.

This book is not written in chapters, but is instead separated into the Five Days of the journey, as well as a Before and After section. But because it is also framed as a story being watched on a stage told by spirits, the spirits are a part of the story. When a character dies, usually their spirit will comment on their thoughts in their last moments—sometimes profound, painful, sometimes mundane. But you never really forget this is a story you are watching from the Inverted Theater, even as you become absorbed in the tale. It adds such an ethereal quality to the story, to hear the thoughts of the spirits about their lives as the story goes on... it's unreal. You really start to feel like you are in the Inverted Theater.

As far as main characters go, I really loved both Jun and Keema, although I will admit Keema was my favorite. Both men are complicated, flawed, even contradictory at times, but oh-so-compelling to read. Their relationship to the world and to each other was so profound to watch unravel. Keema, with his missing arm, branded as a man of poor fortune discriminated against his whole life, is the last of his people. Jun, son of the Prince, has committed untold horrors in the name of the Moon Throne, has had his eyes opened to the error of his ways by the Moon Herself. Together, they must help the escaped empress reclaim Her place in the sky.

As a staunch believer in populism, I really enjoyed Jimenez's perspective on religion and monarchy. Although this is a fantastical tale, it isn't necessarily religious. It takes the form of the familial stories that get passed down for generations. And yet the criticism is integral to the story. Even the "good" gods are harmful in all their actions. It's critical of power in all it's forms, and I enjoyed this, as most fantasy revolves around installing the "true king" or worshipping the "benevolent god" but Jiminez's narrative is focused on the People as a collective, and their wellbeing, and this I appreciated.

This book is very close to indescribable, and honestly, I could probably keep trying forever. But just know, you should read this book. It is just that fucking good.

storygraph | bookshop.org | local houston

★★★★★ holy fuck what did I just read I need a minute to compose myself stars

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[grasslandgirl]

multiples of 12 for fanfic asks!! (w binxhera au)

MWAAHHH DEAR LUKA XOXOX

12. Do you outline your fics?  If yes, how detailed are your outlines?  How far do you stray from them?

not really!!!! i've spoken on this before, but for the most part outlining- especially in detail- tends to make me lose my inspiration and motivation for whatever i'm working on, bc a large part of it comes from like. the discovery of figuring out what's going to happen next as i'm writing!!

of course there are some exceptions to this general rule- noble pining being the most glaring of them, i have an extensively detailed outline for that- i'm usually forced to outline a little when it comes to really longform/plot heavy fics, just to keep track of all the moving pieces, but generally i tend to limit outlines to just like. beats i have ideas for that i don't want to foget about

24. How do you choose whose POV to write in?

vibes mostly!! sometimes what's narratively required to move the story forward? sometimes pacing dictates POV if it's a fic with muliple pov changes, but by and large i tend to write in singular pov or back and forth dual povs and those are chosen by like. the framing direction i want to take of the narrative <3

36. What fic are you proudest of?

torn between slasherfic and noble pining for different reasons! slasher is one of the strongest, most cohesive things i've ever written imo; but noble pining is over three years in the making and is the longest thing ive ever written by a HUGE factor and i'm really proud of that, too !!

48. Who is your favorite character to write for?  Has this changed since you’ve started writing for that fandom?

oh my god it changes so much!! i take what i think is kind of an actor/theatre approach to writing? in that i try to find something of myself in every character i write or vice versa- i try to find something of the character in myself- and that really helps me find a solid foothold in how to write and find the voice for the character i'm focusing on!!!! so i don't know if theres one favorite character to write of all time, but it shuffles around depending on who im writing for the most and feeling the most comfortable in the shoes of in that moment

(right now it is, unsurprisingly, fig and gorgug <333333)

60. In [binxhera au], what inspired the idea for the plot?

i wrote this post back in october as acofaf was still airing !! and the idea really stuck with me <3

72. What’s your favorite writing compliment you’ve gotten?

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa this is hard bc im rich in compliments and affection and support so like. top three off the top of my head:

1) there's this one anonymous comment i got on a ye olde american vandal fic truly like. five years ago? saying that they (the commenter) was high but they really enjoyed my fic and that it made them feel like "that one vine of the lawn mower flying up into the sky while whiteny houston sings" and then commented a second time with a link to said vine to make sure i knew what they were referencing. and i thinki about that so much

2) i just messaged jack @kingfisherkink about this but he left me truly a NOVEL LENGTH comment on the first installment of slasher fic last year and its so <33333333333 i just become the human version of the heart emoji when i think about it bc it was such a kind and thoughtful and enthusiastic comment from someone whos opinion i think really highly of an di still have it open in a tab on my computer now months later

3) casey @aberfaeth has said multiple times that my great pretender fic (keiko fic, for those in the know) that i wrote for her bday last year is the best gift she's ever gotten in her life (now tied w the binxhera fic i wrote this year) (HER WORDS NOT MINE!! <33), and every time she says it and every time i hear it she makes me melt and go "noooo 🥹" for real in real life <3333 looove uuu

send me fic asks from this list!!!!

[inwintersolitude]

- May 4th 2023 -

Do you plan your meals in any way? Sometimes. I have a meal planning app on my phone, and I use it more when my husband is home from flying which is about 4-5 days a week. But if he's on a trip and I'm home alone for a few days, then I don't bother with planning as much. And my appetite can be finicky sometimes, like I won't know what sounds appetizing until the day of, so that's another reason why I don't always plan ahead.

Have you ever been front row at a concert? Which one(s), and how was the experience? Nope, I've never really had any interest in going to a concert, much less the front row of one. I wouldn't be able to nowadays with my noise-induced ear pain.

What's the strongest earthquake you've ever experienced? I've only ever felt one, in 2007 - I just looked it up and it was a magnitude 3.6. My parents and brother and I were sitting at the dinner table and the whole house shook, and at first I thought it was a sonic boom or an explosion. We were only about 5.5 miles away so we definitely felt it.

Do you know your best friend's middle name? Yep.

If you have a passport, where do you store it for safekeeping? In our safe deposit box at the bank.

What's your favourite kind of juice and when did you last drink some? Either lemonade or cranberry juice. It's been several weeks since I last drank either of those.

Were you in the scouts when you were young? Yep, I was in Girl Scouts from kindergarten through 4th grade, but then I stopped because I was frustrated that we didn't do enough camping/outdoor stuff and too much sitting around doing boring crafts lol. But then I rejoined in 7th and 8th grades because a lot of my friends were in it and we started to do more camping at that age.

How long are your fingernails right now? Very short.

Do you like the Scream movies? I've never seen any.

What sort of music have you been listening to lately? Mostly classical. A little bit of classic rock.

Are there any bills you need to pay? They're all on auto-pay.

Have you ever been told you look like a celebrity? Yes but now I can't remember who it was. Personally, I think I look like Mia Wasikowska when she was younger (we're pretty much the same age, less than 3 months apart, but she looks a little older than her age and I look younger than my age). I think she looked like me the most when she had light brown hair for her roles in Jane Eyre and In Treatment.

How many people could sleep in your home? (Not counting floor space, beds and couches only) Four. We have a queen size bed, a daybed, and a couch.

Are you a fast reader? Kind of, I think? But I'm not sure what's considered average.

Do you own a leather jacket? Nope.

Is there a university campus in your city or town? No. Well, there's a building that's a small satellite campus for a university that's in a city that's about 35 minutes away. But it's just one building off on a country road outside of town. The only reason I even know it's there is I pass it on the way to one of my favorite hiking trails.

Who last called you on the phone? Did you pick up? If so, how long did you talk? My husband, and yes I picked up. He was calling from the airport in Houston before his last flight home, and we talked for about 10 minutes.

What grocery store/supermarket do you shop at most frequently? Buehler's.

Do you know how to play the card game Hearts? Nope.

Are you a more of a light or heavy sleeper? It seems to vary a lot throughout my sleep cycles.

Have you ever done freelance work? What did you do? Nope.

Name four things you can see right now. My desk clock, my old AOPA pilot wings pin, the fence in the back yard, and a framed family tree that my great aunt drew by hand, going back to our first ancestor to come to North America in the 1620s.

Do you charge your phone every day? I charge it every night while I sleep. Sometimes during the day if I've been using it a lot and it's getting low.

Is your washing machine currently running? Nope.

How's your energy levels today? Pretty normal.

Have you ever torn a muscle? Yep, when I was doing lifeguard training and preparing for the test where you retrieve a weight from the bottom of the diving well, simulating rescuing a person who had sunk down to the bottom. I dove down to the bottom, grabbed the weight, and when I pushed off the bottom of the pool I tore/pulled a muscle in my leg.

Do you have any cereal in your house at the moment? Yep, bran flakes.

When was the last time you went out to eat? Where did you go and who with? About a week ago, with my husband. We went to the cafe in town.

Is the street you live on short, long, or somewhere in the middle? It's pretty short.

Should you be in bed right now? Nope, it's only a little after 8 p.m.

[siliconec]

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[left-hand-of-dorkness]

If you like space and NASA programs, you should know about some other cool stuff you can look at online! A few of my favorites:

NASA technical reports server: here you can search for all kinds of nasa reports and documents from any period including recent, provides access to nasa publicly funded (unclassified) research. once to impress my dad i used this to look up the specs on the pins that control the pad release of the saturn v he was very impressed

Apollo Lunar Surface Journal: these are golden age internet resources. Photos, radio transcripts, information on hardware, flight plans, the whole nine yards. These are invaluable if you’re interested in the real nitty gritty of the moon landings and you can spend hours getting lost in here. one thing i especially appreciate is the annotations for photographs complete with nasa reference numbers and info on what is shown

Apollo Press Kits: I have used these and the Mercury and Gemini ones (they keep moving the latter, I’m not sure where they are now) for all kinds of things but press kits are an interesting way to see how nasa talked about its work to the media and they have all kinds of fun facts and diagrams

Unedited Apollo photograph scans: the images you see in media of the moon landings are edited for contrast clarity and color. Here you can see scans of the originals along with camera and film information. This is probably my most beloved resource, I love the gauzy quality of the color images, the amateurish framing of the astronauts taking the pictures, candid moments in the spacecraft, and the crispiest snaps of lunar regolith in the sunlight.

nasa history ebooks: free ebooks about many many different subjects on the history of spaceflight and space science, written by scholars. I just read the recent history of Hubble for work and it was really good! Free! Free books!

space news roundup: the employee newsletter at johnson space center (formerly manned spacecraft center). get the latest on the happenings in houston from the early 1960s! these center newsletters are hands down my favorite source to work with as a historian

jsc oral history project: read interviews with more than a thousand people involved with spaceflight at johnson space center. a trove!

there’s so much more! honestly just get in there and look around. and my pro tip as a historian is to use google to get behind the shiny front facing stuff nasa has on its main website to the older pages like alsj. the best stuff is often hiding behind broken/ missing links, or impenetrable navigation and other internet wear and tear. its like a treasure hunt

With NASA announcing their streaming service NASA+ and also announcing it’s going to be free and also ad free, I’d just like to appreciate the lengths they go to make scientific knowledge and exploration as available as they possibly can.