#but it's like oh no the horrors of aging and being an adult and jobs and life and i hate it vs

[cowardlycowboys]

birthdays are so great i feel so loved they almost make me forget that I want to kill myself next year

[dcxdpdabbles]

I loved Summon AU, is it possible that you make more Summon AU?

The aftermath of the summoning leaves the Wayne Manor in a strange sense of foreboding. No one really knows what the Ghost King has done with their list or what it means for them that he has accepted.

Everyone tried to go about their daily lives, attempting to act like they weren't looking over their shoulders. Bruce had nearly broken a blood vessel when he heard about them doing a stupid online trend when they knew magic and gods were real.

They couldn't think of a better excuse for why they did besides "it seemed funny at the time."

Bruce had been so unimpressed with them all that he broke out the big guns.

That night, Alfred grounded them. He really sat everyone- minutes Cass because she had escaped through the window after Danny called- and told them they would not be allowed to use any form of technology unless it was related to their nighttime job.

They would also be given a chore list to complete every day until their punishment was over.

Even though neither Dick or Jason lived at home anymore, they too were grounded and didn't bother to even try to argue with the aging butler. Cass was informed of her own punishment through a text, and she returned about thirty minutes later, ready to face her punishment.

She reorganized everything in storage- and in Wayne Manor, there was a lot in storage- without a single complaint, but she did seem somewhat nervous. And excited?

Like a child waiting to open a present.

That was out of character for Cass, but no one was brave enough to ask her about it. Life before the manor was a taboo topic when it came to Cass.

A week later, her restless behavior finally came to light.

When the doorbell rang, Alfred was just looking over the wood polishing job Tim and Damian had been assigned. Confused- as there were no expected guests and the kids were all still grounded- he approached the door cautiously. Tim was on standby in case things went south.

A young adult, likely barely eighteen, with pretty blue eyes, a vast, charming smile, and a gorgeous winter-themed dress, was on the other side of the door. Their hair is short but styled to have one side longer than the other, framing their face perfectly.

A spinnable circle pin on her dress read Gender Fluid in the unmovable part and "She/Her day" in the spinal part.

"Hi there," She chirps, a dimple on full display. "I'm Danny."

"Good afternoon, Danny. My name is Alfred. How can I help you?"

"I was wondering if Cass was home?" Dany starts surprising Alfred and Tim -who were eavesdropping around the corner- as the girl carefully plays with her hair. "I was hoping to talk to her."

"Miss Casandra is currently not allowed guests." The butler starts slowly. He watches her face fall dramatically before humming. "I can, however, pass along a message to her."

"Oh yeah, that be great. Please let her know Danny was wondering if she would like to go with me to see a ballet tonight. Um if she's allowed to go out."

Tim's eyes widen. A date? Danny had come here in person to ask Cass if she wanted to go on a date? Then had the courage to ask Alfred, to his face, if she could take his grandaughter out?

Who is she? Tim thinks amazed. He wants to text the rest of the group chat, which would invade Cass' privacy. He waits a few minutes until Alfred responds.

"Miss Casandra is currently grounded. Unfortunately, she and her siblings cannot leave until their punishment ends."

Tim winces. Hopefully, Cass being nineteen and still being grounded at her age didn't scare off Danny. Some people didn't understand how much power Alfred's word had over the manor and frankly, those people didn't deserve Cass anyway.

But it would make her sad.

"Oh, that's okay. Thank you for letting me-"

A scream makes everyone jump. Tim whirls around to find Damian pressed against the main stairway. His face has gone three sheets of white, staring at Danny with horror.

"Y-you!"

Danny tilts her head. "Me?"

"Y-you!" Damian gasps and Tim is highly alarmed that his voice is tinted with fear. "Why are you here?!"

"I came to ask Cass if-"

"You will not take Cain from me, Ghost King! I will destroy your core before you try to get near her!" Damian screams, hand suddenly holding a glowing green sword, but his threat doesn't hold much because he is literally shaking in his boots. "You have your summon payment already! You shall leave Cain alone!"

What.

"Oh! You think no, no. I'm not here for her soul or anything. Cass and I go way back when she lived on the streets. " Danny- the ghost king they summoned using a list of their gay awaking apparently- laughs, waving her hands as if to calm the young child. "I liked her for a while but thought she didn't feel the same. Until the summoning, where I saw my name on the list. We talked it out, and I was hoping to take her on a first date, you know?"

"You lie!" Damian races down to point his sword at Danny, looking just as wild as a cornered animal about to fight for its life. "Why would the strongest being in the multiverse live on the streets?!"

"Well....it's not like they pay to rule the dead....I had a rough patch, but Cass helped me get back on my feet." Danny muttered, slightly embarrassed. Then she squits at Damian. "Wait, are you a al Ghul?"

Damian breaks into a sweat as Danny gasps, "You are! You're family owes me so much money in backed up taxes for the healing pool! We cut off contamination maintenance because Ra's refused to pay years ago! Kid, do you know I can get into contact with your family member about the Lazarus pit?"

Damian screamed again, turned around, and ran, leaving a stunned Alfred, Tim and Danny. "Guess not. Anyway, sorry to be a bother Mr. Alfred, I'll come back when Cass can go out. Bye!"

A familiar portal rips under Danny as she falls through with a cheerful wave. Alfred and Tim watch it close in a moment before Tim turns to the butler. "Did I inhale too many polishing chemicals? Am I hallucinating?"

"No, my dear boy, I saw everything as well."

"Oh, good. " Tim pauses. " One of us needs to speak to Damian and Cass."

Alfred closes the door slowly. "I'll find Master Damian. You go for Miss Cassandra and Master Tim?"

"Hmm?"

"The next time, Mister Conner sends you a fun trend to try. Don't."

"Yeah, that's fair."

[eddiemunsonw]

Snow Storm

Steve Harrington x Fem!reader

Summary: You're on a 'date'. Sort of. You're really not feeling it, especially when you realize that the guy has been lying. Steve, witnessing it all during his shift at Family Video, is more than happy to meddle a little.

CW/Disclaimer: Hmmmm things start to get a little heated and sexy but nothing too dramatic. So... idk. Mention of porn?

Author's note: I have a tendency to post fics out of their season, it seems

Words: 3435

Steve’s POV

He watched as your eyes followed the section of horror movies slowly, scanning each title to try and remember if you had seen them before. Next to you, a guy stood impatiently as he eyed the curtain that separated the adult section. Steve watched with interest, as it was all that was currently happening in the store apart from a regular who looked into the slapstick classics on the other side.

“Come on, I just wanna see.”

The guy sighed, nudged you with his arm. You were having none of it and Steve couldn’t help but wear an amused smile. Eventually, when you had picked out two movies, you followed him towards the curtain. Steve, feeling particularly menacing today, quickly left the counter and approached the curtain just in time.

“Hello there! ID’s please.”

He held his hand open and you took it out immediately, showing that you were 23, a year younger than he was. When the guy handed it over with some reluctance, his curiosity piqued.

“Oof, sorry dude, can’t let you in. It’s 21+”

“What? Since when?” the guy responded, but Steve clocked something much more interesting.

“Clark… You said you were 24. Jesus this is why I never wanna say my age first,” you groaned and rolled your eyes. Steve bit down on his lip to stop himself from smiling, but it was too hard not to.

“Damn, why’d you have to lie to the lady? That’s not cool,” Steve added on.

Your POV

“You weren’t supposed to know. Now come on,” Clark mumbled and attempted to pass the curtain but Steve quickly moved in between, the smooth glide of his body grabbing your attention.

“Still a no, Bud.”

You were already tired of his pushy behavior earlier, so while Steve had him occupied, you entered the adult section. You didn’t even want to go in there, but it was better than staying.

“Grab some deepthroating! And some lesbian porn?”

Steve’s POV

Steve shook his head at him as he leaned against the wall right next to the curtain.

“Jesus, dude. Are you trying to make her run away from you even harder?”

“Shut up,” Clark grumbled, side eyeing him with annoyance.

“Hm, no,” Steve said, a small smile on his face. “Not for a pipsqueak like you.”

“Oh fuck off, says the failed jock whose daddy no longer funds him so he has to do a shitty job like this one, the highlight of his day being to be a total asshole to a guy trying to have sex with a girl.”

Steve stared ahead of him, taking a deep inhale before replying.

“Yeah. Sure. That’s a neat description of you and me both. Emphasis on the trying.”

“The day’s not over yet.”

“Oh but it is, pipsqueak. Cause you’re gonna turn around and leave now.”

They looked at each other, eyes dark and challenging. Steve wasn’t sure what came over him. He just knew that he needed to do you the favor of getting rid of him.

“The hell I am,” Clark bristled.

Steve chuckled darkly. Woah, when did he become this super villain huh? Hmm. Interesting.

“Oh you are. She wants you gone and so do I.”

“You don’t know shit about what she wants.”

“Let me go ask,” Steve said as his hand lazily slid the curtain aside. “What’s her name again?” he asked, pretending like he hadn’t checked your name on your ID. He didn’t wait for his answer and walked behind the curtain despite his protests. This, however, made him miss out on the emergency alert on the radio.

“We interrupt your favorite tunes for an important message. The blizzard is getting worse. If you haven’t yet, go home. Chances are you won’t be able to if you wait much longer.”

Clark, however, did. Besides, he wasn’t that much of an idiot. He knew he had lost his chances with you the moment he tried to get you to grab his favorite porn videos. Whatever.

Your POV

“So… see anything you like?”

His voice startled you, but at the same time it was met with relief from your end that it wasn’t Clark. Steve slowly walked closer and quickly noticed you didn’t seem interested in any of it in the slightest and chuckled.

“Or are you just planning to stay here forever until he leaves?”

You shrugged.

“Something like that. Also, you don’t just ask a lady about her favorite porn, Harrington.”

Delighted by your response, he cocked his hip against the wall as he crossed his arms with a grin.

“I mean… we both already know Clark’s…” Steve said jokingly, earning a smile from you.

“All men are the same,” you sighed. Steve pouted and scanned the titles for something interesting.

“You say that now but… wait until you find out that my favorite is actually… Granny getting a— nope, nope, forget I started that sentence,” Steve said quickly as he put back the tape he just had in his hands.

“All the grannies over the world are crying right now,” you said sadly, a smile on your lips.

“Too bad, I’ve set my eye on girls who actually are the age they say they are.”

“I’ll admit that’s the most interesting belated opening line I’ve ever heard,” you said dryly.

“As long as it catches your intrigue, I’m satisfied,” Steve said with a playful, cocky grin.

You grabbed a tape and smirked, holding it out for him.

“So I’m guessing you don’t need yourself a… Satisfyer 2.0, then?” You asked, holding up the tape which had sensual “instructions” for a vibrator.

Steve laughed and shook his head.

“These satisfy just fine,” Steve said, holding up his hands. Your mind drifted off to what he could do with those big hands. Not just to himself but to—

“… left?”

Steve had apparently just asked you a question.

“Huh?”

He smirked and nodded towards the curtain.

“I think he left. Just heard the bell above the door.”

“Maybe someone came in though…” you wondered out loud.

“Maybe. I’ll go check.” He spun on his heel and approached the curtain when—

“Wait—” It was out before you knew it. Steve halted, turned back around and looked at you patiently.

“Yeah?”

“If he is in fact not gone, can you… get rid of him somehow? I normally wouldn’t ask but he’s just such a—”

“Dick.”

“Yeah…” You smiled a small smile and watched as he approached you again. His eyes were on you, taking in even the smallest changes in your expression.

“So is he like… your boyfriend?” Steve asked softly. “Or uh, was?”

You chuckled and shook your head.

“Nah, this was the second date which I had reluctantly agreed to.”

“Why’d you say yes?” Steve asked curiously. He followed your movement as you skimmed some more tapes and smiled at the playfully quipped corner of your mouth. “I mean, it didn’t look like you wanted to be here.”

“I didn’t. I just… I kind of never said yes but he just showed up on my doorstep and then I felt too bad to not go with him, so… yeah. Didn’t know he had plans to rent some porn and spend the second date in his bedroom or whatever.”

Steve crossed his arms and nodded thoughtfully.

“Hmmh… yeah that sucks. Well, I’ll make sure there won’t be a next time,” he said as he shortly winked at you and once again turned on his heel, this time actually continuing his walk through the curtain. He was out there for a few minutes when he turned back with a frown.

“Uh… Y/N? We’ve got a little… hiccup.”

You approached him with a frown of your own and followed him to the front, unsure what to expect. What you certainly didn’t expect, was to see a snow storm going on outside.

“Apparently there’s a code red. Just heard a repeat of it on the radio but it keeps breaking up. They urge everyone to stay inside until it’s over.”

Steve stuffed his hands into his pockets and stared ahead. It was the worst storm he had ever witnessed and the fact that nothing had seemed to be going on apart from some gentle snowfall surprised him.

“Stay… here?” you asked eventually.

“I mean, yeah? You can’t drive in this weather, it’s too dangerous. So is walking. So…”

“But I can’t just…”

“Hey, I don’t bite,” Steve said softly, nudging your arm with his own. “Besides, Clark seems to have left after all. Maybe he heard the warning and decided to bolt? If so, very nice to let us know as well but I will say that I wasn’t nice to him, so…”

You smirked.

“What did you say to him?”

“Nothing, nothing. I mean, genuinely, I didn’t say much. Just that he had to fuck off, using different wording. He didn’t seem all that ready to leave when I went to look for you though.”

“Oh well, good riddance.”

“Agreed.”

Steve walked forward and locked the door, putting the closed sign up front just in case.

“Let’s go to the back, it’s warmer there. And there’s a coffee machine.”

And so your “Stuck at Family Video with heartthrob Steve Harrington” began.

Once you were settled around the table in the break room, Steve gave you an odd glance. It was hard to figure out what he meant by it, although his frown disappeared the moment he got up from his chair.

“Coffee? Tea? I think we even got a few of those instant hot choc packages,” he offered, his back already turned to you as he searched the cabinets.

“Oh, hot chocolate sounds nice actually. Is it just me or is it… still kinda cold, even here?” you asked hesitantly. Steve nodded ruefully and grabbed two mugs from the cabinet he was currently facing.

“Ah, yeah… it looks like the heating is struggling again. I could kick it to see if it helps but… chances are it’ll get worse.”

“How could it get worse?”

Steve shrugged.

“Beats me, but I’m speaking from experience. Sometimes it does the trick and other times it really, really doesn’t.”

“Let’s not risk it then. At least we have a warm drink, right?”

Steve nodded and grabbed the kettle. You watched him busy himself with putting it on, emptying the hot chocolate powder and grabbing two spoons. He was humming along softly to whichever song he seemed to have stuck in his head and shot you a smile when he caught you looking.

“So what do you usually—”

Suddenly, the room turned pitch dark. You heard Steve swear softly when he shuffled back towards the table and bumped into a chair.

“Uh… okay. That’s… kind of a problem,” he mumbled as he managed to sit back down. “No hot choc I guess, sorry. No… heating either. Maybe we should check how the weather’s doing?” he opted.

“Yeah, sure.”

There was a small strip of light seeping in from the doorway, slowly turning brighter as you adjusted to your surroundings again. Warm fingers teased your arm before your wrist was grabbed and Steve helped you up. As he opened the door, the brightness of the snow outside was almost blinding. The thin windows made it a lot colder at the front, making you shiver as you watched the outside. It wasn’t just snow anymore, as heavy hail rained down, large enough to leave dents into cars. Steve groaned and let go of your wrist.

“Let me check if I can get the power back on,” he mumbled, more to himself than to you. He grabbed a flashlight from below the counter and went to the back again. After a few minutes, he returned, looking apologetic.

“Sorry, nothing. I guess it’s my fault you’re stuck here, huh?” he sighed. “If I hadn’t bothered Clark as much you’d be on your way already. Or if I just… I don’t know. Sorry, I guess.”

“It’s not your fault the weather decided to fuck us over, Steve,” you said with a soft smile which he returned with some hesitance. “What do you usually do for fun around here?”

Steve gave you a wry smile.

“Watch movies?”

“Ah, yeah.”

There was a short silence until Steve clapped in his hands and rubbed them together. “I’ve got this huge blanket in the back, brought it here once because Rob, Robin, my colleague, gets very cold easily so sometimes we’d just huddle under the blanket during breaks and stuff. I think we might as well sit out here, at least it’s light… for now.”

You nodded, smiling as you thought of Robin Buckley. You knew her of course. Not super well, but well enough to know she was nice.

“Yeah, it’s already getting dark, huh? A blanket sounds good though.”

Steve nodded and once again disappeared for a short moment, until he returned with a bright blue blanket, which he partially draped on the floor in front of the counter before he motioned for you to sit down and wrapped it around your shoulders. He joined you after grabbing you both some water and put the other end around his shoulders once he settled down.

“How’s this?”

You were really trying not to let it get to you that you were cozying up to Steve right now. Heat was radiating off of him and it made you wonder if he was actually cold, or if he was basically doing the whole “it’s better to stick together for body warmth” kind of thing. With the addition of clothes, of course.

“It’s nice. Better than without for sure,” you told him softly. Steve’s shoulder brushed yours and soon enough you felt the pressure build up until he was actually resting against you. Not in an uncomfortable way at all. It was really… nice, actually.

“Your parents? Do you think they’ll worry?”

“Ah, no. My mom’s visiting my grandma in another state actually and my dad’s no longer around, so. Doubt he can worry,” you joked lightly. “What about yours?”

Steve snorted, then realized it probably wasn’t all that funny and shrugged.

“Dunno, they’re somewhere in Europe now, I think? So no.”

Another silence. It was by that point that you remembered how little you actually knew about Steve Harrington. Sure, he had been popular in school for some time, and then he wasn’t, and then he graduated. But you had never really talked to him other than giving him a pen or two in English class. You were from different social ladders, really. Although, right now you felt quite equal to him, somehow. Which felt weird, considering he looked like a freshly cut out of a painting model and you were… you. Mr handsome decided to steal you away from your brain, which honestly, was a good thing.

“Hey, wanna play a game?” he asked, peering into your eyes as he leaned forward a little. You watched him with newfound curiosity.

“What kind of game?”

“I spy with my little eye.”

“Isn’t that just called “I spy”?” you wondered aloud.

“Dunno. So. Yes?”

“What else is there, right?”

Steve grinned and rested his head against the counter.

“That’s right. Okay. I spy with my little eye… something green.”

“That tape,” you said as you pointed. Steve leaned into your space, following your hand.

“Which one?”

“The green one.”

“There are maaaany green ones.”

“The green one with… Fuck I can’t read,” you sighed as you tried to squint. Steve laughed warmly, which you could feel the tremble of against your shoulder. “Okay so. The sci-fi shelf, yes? Fifth on the second row.”

“Aaaah, I see it now. Nope!”

“You knew that wasn’t it from the start.”

“I had to make sure.”

“Mhm, sure.”

Steve grinned and nudged you with his shoulder before tapping your thigh with his hand.

“Your turn, your turn!”

He left his hand on your thigh. Oh shit. Yeah, you were totally normal about that. You could still think. You could definitely still find some kind of object that you could use—

“Wait, I didn’t even guess it, how is it my turn?!” you questioned. Steve, who had been looking at… somewhere that wasn’t your eyes, quickly lifted his eyes to meet yours and grinned.

“Right. Guess!” “Your vest?”

“You are absolutely right. See? Your turn.”

“It wasn’t— okay. Hm… I spy with my little eye… something red.”

“Your cheeks.”

“Shut up, my cheeks aren’t red.”

“They are a little.”

“If you keep talking about it, yes, they will turn red.”

“Oh? Is that so?”

Once again Steve leaned forward to look you straight in the eye, this time lifting a hand to cup your cheek gently. “Hm, they’re a little pink at the very least.”

You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks and took his hand off your cheek as you looked away. Steve chuckled softly and turned his hand around so he could grab yours.

“Fine, then… the bike outside?”

“Nope.”

“Damn, I thought that was it for sure. That red blob of paint that Keith never managed to get off the ceiling?”

“That’s it!”

Steve grinned at you and gave your hand a squeeze. For a moment you had forgotten about his hand, too drunk on his animated face. Fuck.

“I spy with my little eye…” Steve turned his head to look at you and smiled. “Something pretty.”

“What?”

“Purple! Purple.”

“My shirt.”

“So clever.”

It was getting darker rapidly and soon enough, even your little game became harder to play. You did some other ones, word games, guessing games, whatever you could think of. The blanket was wrapped closer around you both now, as the store became colder without the heating. You sat hip to hip, your arms a little awkward sometimes although neither of you really minded.

“Would you have stayed here if I hadn’t been around?” you asked softly.

“Hmm, nah, I don’t think so.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t really care if— I mean, I’d only be risking myself in that case.”

“That’s a bad reason. You’re just as important.”

“Am I?” Steve asked, and for some reason you felt like he needed an honest answer.

“Yeah, you are, Steve.”

“Hm…” A beat of silence. “I spy with my little eye… someone pretty.”

“You can’t even see.”

“I’ve memorized her by now.”

“Is it the blonde babe cardboard cutout?”

Steve, not expecting that answer at all, burst out laughing.

“Fuck, no,” a giggle, “it wasn’t.”

“Oh… hm. What about that girl from the ring? Samara?”

“Shush.”

“Or the woman from that movie where—” “Ssshh.”

You felt his hand cup your cheek and it was as if your heart was gonna jump out of your chest at any moment now. His breath tickled your cheek, warm and comfortable against your cold nose. Your lips parted on their own, eyes closing even though there was only an outline of his face to see.

“You sure it’s not the blond babe?” you murmured teasingly.

Steve giggled softly and shook his head, causing the stray strands of his hair to tickle you a little.

“Positive.”

A faint sound of lips being licked, and then his lips brushed against yours. Soft and pliable, eager to taste yours. He hummed softly, pleased, as he pulled you closer. You were easily pulled into his lap as his tongue teased your bottom lip for access. Hands smoothed up and down your waist, the blanket forgotten as your kiss provided enough heat between the two of you. It was silent, save from the gasps and soft, pleasant hums leaving you both. He gently moved his hips while simultaneously guiding yours, a gentle moan leaving him as he found a rhythm. His lips found your neck and your hand made its way into his hair to have something to grasp onto. One hand found the hem of your shirt and he was about to lift it up when—

Brightness. Light. The electricity was back on. Meaning… everyone outside could see you. If there had been anyone, that is. Still, it broke the moment instantly as Steve dropped his hand to your thigh and looked up at you.

“Shit,” he murmured, a lopsided grin on his face. “They really know how to spoil the fun today, huh?”

You smiled down at him and turned around to look outside, one hand resting on his chest for balance.

“Hm… I don’t know. It seems safe to go back home.”

Steve dug his fingers into your hips with eagerness before leaving a soft kiss on your lips.

“Your place or mine?”

end.

If you enjoyed reading this, please know that comments and reblogs are highly appreciated :) Likes are lovely but sadly do nothing to spread the fics around! Help your favorite writers (not saying me - in general) out like that so you can continue to enjoy consuming the free work they put out, it's a win-win.

[kedsandtubesocks]

graveyard heart

Post Outbreak!Joel Miller (Hades) x F!Reader

summary: your mom, a FEDRA officer, warned you about the darkness lurking - it arrives as the underworld smuggling king and he is indeed dangerous (but oh so terrifyingly beautiful)

warnings & tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI. dark themes || dead dove: do not eat. loose retelling of the Hades & Persephone myth, canon divergent, kidnapping, hostage situation, enemies to lovers, age gap (reader’s age not mentioned but is a drinking adult & was a child on outbreak day), dubcon - power dynamics & possible stockholm syndrome, morally gray!Joel, controlling/complicated parental relationship, brief scenes of assault (not from Joel), canon typical violence (gun usage, blood, fights with infected, awful raiders and fireflies), discussion of grief/character deaths, angst with sexual tension, masturbation (f&m), smutty thoughts, finger sucking, cum eating, poetic allusions to smut, light spit kink, protective!Joel, slightly possessive!Joel

word count: 11.6k (i’m sorry)

a/n: HI PLEASE READ & BE AWARE OF THE CONTENT WARNINGS. This is my first stab at darker content for the fandom & I’m a bit nervous, i kindly ask that if this isn’t for you pls just keep scrolling - so i blame my 2014 8tracks hades & persephone playlist for this but here are are lol! this is my piece for @beskarandblasters the pedro pantheon challenge! also the biggest thank you to @pr0ximamidnight & @ahauntedcowboy for being the absolute angels & letting me scream about this lol, now to you, if you’re reading this too I also can’t thank you enough ♡

(i)

You rarely go outside after curfew, much less to a gathering hosted by smugglers.

Boston had one of the most prolific and stubborn smuggling systems across all the quarantine zones, or so from what you’ve heard. Your mother and the other FEDRA officers had mentioned many times how, once the fireflies were extinguished, the smugglers were the next to go.

Especially the man in charge of the entire network.

Known as the most prolific and notorious smuggler, no FEDRA officer has even seen him.

The ruler of the smugglers, the king of the underworld.

Now, you’re here at a secret warehouse gathering apparently hosted by the illusive man.

It’s rather impressive. Outside is a large warehouse, decayed and ancient. Inside, the old office spaces were gutted out to create a new building. Commotion radiates from it.

The underground world was painted to be something out of a terrifying horror story. The parties had been urban legends whispered around the QZ. Your oldest friend had urged you to finally sneak away to one.

“This will be your fun night out to celebrate your new big adult job!” She had argued. “And besides, you need to live a little. Don’t worry about your mom, just enjoy having fun for once!”

Your mom. If she knew you were here she’d pop a blood vessel or worse.

But your friend is right. You want to experience more, don’t want to feel stuck under your mom’s watch forever.

Panic still crawls over you though, like at any minute your mother might walk in and scream your name catching you.

“Y’okay there?”

You didn’t realize you’d be dazed out for so long until a voice draws you out of your thoughts.

The accent is so strikingly thick, a drawl you don’t hear often. The man standing by the mixture of the homebrewed moonshine takes your breath away.

Ruggedly handsome, with a beautiful striking nose, older and wearing the lines of age gracefully with his gray hair, he seems brewed of something fierce and wildly beautiful.

You almost feel too stunned to talk, but manage to blurt out an apology.

“Yeah I’m good, just never seen a party like this.” You admit.

The man hums a bored sort of noise before he nudges towards the table.

“Want anything?” He offers, and nodding you tell him to surprise you.

Even with a scruffy glare on his face, the man’s eyebrows raise ever slightly, surprised.

The drink he hands you is harsh, stings your nose, isn’t anything like the liquor you’ve drank with your mom. You even cough at its harsh taste.

“Don’t tell me you never drank before.” The mystery man’s voice sounds offended.

“I’ve drank before.” You fire back. “Just never anything like this.”

The man’s dark rust colored eyes survey you, actually scan you up and down, making your skin tighten, feeling strangely judged and exposed.

He takes a sip of his own drink, yet his gaze continues watching you.

“So ya lost? Is that how you ended up here?” His words are simple, cold, and a frown tugs at your lips.

“My friend was invited, decided to tag along.” Your reply is blunt

“Your friend,” he nods. “And they’re where?”

Notorious for being a roamer, even when you were younger, you’re not surprised your friend wandered away for a moment.

“Guess just went to enjoy the rest of the party.”

“It ain’t a party.” The man says deep.

“There’s alcohol, people enjoying half ass drinking games, this looks like a party.” You shrug surprisingly braver. Guess the home brewed alcohol did that.

This mystery man’s face scrunches up, like he’s annoyed with you. He simply just takes another sip of his drink.

Apologizing low, you also thank him again for the drink and decide to exit. The man doesn’t stop you. Now you go looking for your friend peeking around the party. No sign of her.

Slightly worried, you check outside.

What you discover petrifies you on sight. Your best friend tries to leave from the shadow of the guy she’s talking to. Before she can leave, his hands grab her arms, a dark prison refusing to let her go. With full force he slams her against the wall. A small scream escapes her, and fear drowns her eyes while the guy grins demonically.

You rush over fast. All you have is the drink on hand, but once you’re close enough you slam the hard plastic right against the man’s face.

He screams in pain at the sudden attack.

“Leave her the fuck alone!” You scream not caring you’re being loud. You scurry to grab your friend quickly.

“You little fucking cunt!” The attacker roars and turns to you. Wild blood streams down his nose.

He swings his fist, and you try to escape the path of impact. But it still lands a solid hard hit against the side of your head. A scream comes from your friend and everything stings. You try remembering the self defense training your mom tried drilling into you.

Until a hard impact cracks in the air.

You blink into focus. Your assailant is now on the ground.

And the grumpy mystery man you met stands above with a bloody knuckle.

He’s the one who punched the guy.

“What the fuck man?! Fucking bitch hit me first!” The bastard on the floor screams.

“Get the fuck outta here. Or else.” The mystery man barks.

The guy on the floor’s eyes go wide, like he’s finally taking in the man above. Even in the dark, you witness terror rise fast across the guy’s face.

In a possessed panic, the assailant snaps up and simply leaves.

Your head throbs where the hit landed, yet your eyes stay stuck on the man who came to rescue you.

A soft voice suddenly eases in, and you’re met with a striking older woman.

“Come on, let’s get you both back inside.” Her name is Tess, and she holds a sharp grace to her as she guides everyone to the makeshift kitchen.

You want to help your best friend clean up, but Tess orders you to sit down and reassures she’ll take care of your friend in one of the bathrooms.

“You need to sit and get your head checked out.” Your friend tells you, worried.

Before you can even move to follow her and Tess, your scruffy savior waltzes in.

“Sit down.” He barks at you and moves to grab a cooled bottle to hold against your head.

You hiss when the cold glass touches your head.

“You smashed the shit outta that drink into that fucker’s nose.” The man begins with a gruff mutter. “Got a lot more fight in ya than y’look.”

You snort.

“I just acted fast that’s all…” you mumble back.

Turning to the man, you earnestly thank him. However, his deep eyes, almost the color of ancient rust, already stare at you. His gaze is intense, sharply piercing.

“So why do you guys even throw parties? Does your boss know it doesn’t seem safe.” You comment.

“Mainly to show off the products we got.” The man explains gruffly.

Made sense.

“Wait, is your hand okay?” You suddenly blurt out remembering the blood staining his knuckles.

“M’fine.” He answers and moves his hand away before you can try examining it.

Footsteps walk into the room, and Tess returns. Her eyes gleam soft.

“Your friend’s doing good, actually making jokes and everything.”

Relief floods in.

This may be the sign to head home. It would take a lot to sneak back to your best friends’ apartment, especially this late.

“Headin’ out?” The man asks when you return from checking in on your friend.

You nod weakly.

“Don’t. It’s late. Plus we got space in the back you two can crash in.” Tess reassures, and you graciously thank her.

“Don’t thank me, Joel was the one who offered.” She grins nudging the man.

Joel, his name - it’s beautiful.

Joel glares terrifyingly hard at her. Tess simply shrugs.

So you thank Joel, even use his name. This serious but stunning man doesn’t say anything and instead walks towards the other door.

“Come on.” He suddenly commands. You and your friend rapidly follow him.

Just as promised there are rooms safely tucked away. Though room is a gracious term with the stacks of various boxes and rusty cluttered furniture, but you won’t complain.

Joel says nothing, simply shows you the room then leaves.

“He’s weird as fuck.” Your friend whispers. You had to agree.

Even in this back room space the hum of the party continues to leak in. The lights from the hallway become a sliver under the door.

Soon enough boots thump outside the door, and your eyes creak open. From the light under the door a shadow moves. You’re worried for a moment until a darker shadow goes to rest against the door.

More footsteps, lighter ones, come.

“Gonna sit there all night? You’ll get a creak in your fucking neck.” Tess.

“Just get back to the party.” Joel.

His voice rumbles back, and you feel wide awake now.

He’a staying in front of the door, keeping watch.

You don’t know this man, just met him tonight. But you’re comforted knowing he’s here. Safety is hard to find in this world. Yet soft residuals of it seem to reside buried within Joel.

When you wake up however, he’s gone nowhere to be found.

On the walk home, your best friend is thankfully upbeat.

“You know,” she comments. “I’m actually kinda a little bummed we didn’t get to meet the scary head smuggler guy.”

You laugh, a dark humored type thing.

“Yeah me too, but after last night I’m kind of glad.” You agree.

You might not have met the infamous smuggler kingpin, but meeting Joel felt precious in its own strange way.

(ii)

You run into Joel again - literally bump into him.

Trying to put all the papers and books into your bag, you step outside the school and collide into a hard body. But instead of stumbling and falling back, firm hands steady you. All your items still drop.

Something fierce constricts your throat when you focus on who you ran into.

Joel, a very grouchy Joel.

You immediately ramble out a mess of apologies while you try picking up everything. Joel silently crouches down to help gather your fallen items.

“You’re a teacher.” He notes with a gruff low rumble.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Just started this week…Someone’s gotta teach the kids what the water cycle is.” You joke.

He snorts very faintly, and your heart jumps.

The handsome man has been in your mind ever since the party. Now he’s materialized here.

Your mom calls your name walking out of the building.

In her commander FEDRA officer uniform, you hate more than ever that she’s wearing it.

“Who’s this?!” Her eyes immediately flicker suspiciously to Joel as she smiles politely.

“Someone I just ran into that’s all.” You quickly answer.

Rapidly you turn back to Joel and politely thank him again for helping pick up your scattered papers.

Joel statically nods. But you don’t miss the way his eyes narrow at your mom before he leaves.

Your mother doesn’t seem to pay him any mind, not bothered by a stranger. A very FEDRA Trait.

When your first late night working at the school comes, that has your mom worried.

“I can call in and walk you home once you’re done.” She urges.

You’re an adult. You’ve faced scarier things. After much persistence, thankfully your mother begrudgingly relents.

The sky looks beautiful when you step out of the building. You can’t see the stars often from here but still feel comforted seeing a few twinkles above.

“Keep staring off like that and you’re gonna bump into someone again.”

The familiar gruff voice jolts your heart into overdrive. When your focus whips back to earth, Joel stands a few steps away.

“Fancy running into you again.” You beam, feeling your heart flutter at the sight of him.

Joel shrugs. “My way back from work came this way again.”

“Mind some company?” He nudges his chin towards you and you quickly, embarrassingly fast, you welcome him to join you.

Joel falls into step besides you.

You ask about how his day went, and he shrugs simply saying it’s been fine.

“So, your mom’s a FEDRA officer.” He suddenly comments.

You had a feeling he’d mention it. You almost want to make a joke that she just stole the uniform. But it’s hard with how Joel’s gaze seems to simply pierce through whatever he sets his eyes onto.

“I promise,” you blurt. “I haven’t told her about the party or anything.”

Joel nods, silent again.

Abruptly he stops walking. You do as well. The soft evening lights color the streets a dingy muted gray. The curfew call would arrive soon. There’s already barely anyone on the street.

He sighs turning to you. That sword's sharp piercing gazes of his makes you worried.

“This is my stop here.” He nudges to the apartment complex across the street. “But can walk ya home, if you want.”

You exhale relieved, even find fondness sneaks in.

“Oh no, it’s okay, it’s late anyway.” You earnestly thank him.

Suddenly a hand swings across your face out from behind. A cloth covers your mouth. Before you can even scream your eyes flicker heavy.

Joel is the last blurred sight you see before darkness overcomes you.

Groggily opening your eyes, you’re now in a barren basement type room lying on a mattress on the floor. Immediately you spot Tess. Then you notice a man with a large rifle standing by the door.

“What the fuck happened?!” You scream.

“Hey, relax.” Tess says eased. “It’s nothing personal.”

“Nothing personal?! What the fuck do you do to me?! Why am I here?!”

Before she can answer you, Joel waltzes into the room. The room shadows paint him a terrifying creature who stares at you hard.

“Look,” Joel’s voice is cold, unwavering steel. “I’m gonna be straight with ya. We ain’t doing shit to you. Just need your mom to make FEDRA give us what we want.”

Your eyes go wide.

You’re being held as a hostage.

Before anything else can be said, another man steps in.

“Sorry boss, but we’re getting word there’s chatter on the coms.” The man explains to Joel.

He nods then glances over to you from his shoulder.

“Y’don’t do anything fucking stupid and we might all make it out of this alright.” That’s all Joel says then exits.

The man with the gun nods to him almost as a sign of respect.

Even though so many thoughts buzz around in your head like angry wasps, it clicks fast.

It’s Joel.

Joel is the infamous underworld smuggling king.

(iii)

The rest of the day is a blur. You’re left alone and cry into your hands until it hurts. The man with the gun standing guard outside your door doesn’t seem to care. Tess at one point returns with cleaner clothes, even offers you a shower and a meal, but you stay silent.

Some of the smugglers pop their head into your room, curious about the new hostage.

“Aw, you’re too pretty to cry.” One of them grins.

“Yeah there’s someone else I could give ya to cry about.” Another snickers disgustingly, and you want to crawl into yourself.

Joel barks a hard loud yell.

“Any of you fuckers so much as even looks in there again or even dares touch her, you’ll have to fuckin’ deal with me, understand?!” Joel commands, a god among chaos.

It’s not entirely comforting, but it’s enough.

Not a soul walks by your room after that.

Later that night Joel comes with rations and more water.

“Y’need to eat something.” He suggests. You don’t even move to touch the food.

Joel sighs, placing his hands on his hips.

“I’m doing this to find my brother, simple as that. Need FEDRA to give us a good car or even a battery at best to get us on the road.” Joel explains sharply, methodically.

All of this for his brother. The love of a family member in exchange for the love of another. You understand, even can sympathize, but you hated this still, hated him.

With thorny malice, you glare hard at Joel staying silent.

He frowns harder, and it highlights his wrinkles. Joel doesn’t say anything, simply clenches his jaw and leaves the room.

In the room’s solitude, you try formulating a plan. If you just get a gun you can maybe make your way out of this place.

Whatever this place is, it’s the central base. It’s hard not to listen to all the commotion and talk done in the other room. The smuggling empire is terrifyingly impressive. From what you’ve caught there’s multiple routes and tunnels that operate for different means. Some smuggle in necessities like food or medicine, while others provide arms.

Joel orders and strategizes it all. Tess is just as in charge and orders commands as well.

“You should eat.” Suddenly the guard on the other side of your open door suggests.

You’re almost tempted to throw the rations out the door.

A sudden explosion cracks above and the ground rattles. The air stills, and everything shifts.

“Fireflies!” Someone screams.

This is your chance. In the rush of the commotion and the echo of gunshots, you hope to escape.

You’re left alone.

This is it. Adrenaline pumps through you fast as you frantically search for an exit, a gun, anything. But the chaos swirls fast. More yelling arrives underground, and gunshots fire off closer.

But your legs start buckling, and your eyes start getting foggy too. Fear comes fast. Did they maybe drug you?

No. You just realize…you haven’t eaten this entire day.

Now it’s getting hard to walk.

Stumbling, barely keeping focus, you lean against the wall. Your body feels like it’s going to crumble.

“Oh, look what we have here.” Someone coos. A shadow soon falls over you. “Fuck didn’t know the smugglers had someone this cute.”

This can’t be happening.

Your lips tremble while fighting back tears, can’t even focus on who’s around you.

“Maybe we can keep her as a nice treat.” Another voice laughs, and your stomach feels sick.

A gunshot rings into the hallway. A body collides so hard and fast on the floor it makes your vision focus. Crimson spills onto the concrete. When you snap your focus aware another firefly man screams in anger until Joel takes him down with ease.

Disrobed relief spills into you. Joel’s here.

In this fucked up moment you’re about to cry grateful because he’s here.

But your vision blurs more, and your body feels light.

Then your world again goes dark.

Sunlight this time wakes you up.

Panic causes you to bolt up fast, but the dizziness hits you. Hissing, you steady yourself.

“Don’t get up too fast.” Joel’s dull voice speaks from the abyss.

You’re in a small apartment now, or the decaying barebones of one. In one small room is the kitchen and a living room. You rest on the couch while Joel sits at the table.

“What happened?” You ask with a croak.

Joel nudges to the small dusty coffee table where water and rations sit waiting for you.

This time you don’t hesitate to snag them.

Joel explains all that happened. The fireflies attacked the tunnels for supplies, and it spilled into the base.

“Used the underground tunnels to make it outside the QZ. Then, came here to a safe house.” He finishes.

“Where’s Tess?” You ask.

“Stayed back. Need someone to communicate to me how the deal’s going.” You suddenly notice the radio sitting on the countertop.

“So it’s just you and me.” You mutter.

“Un-fuckin’ fortunately.” Joel replies with a hard scowl.

Your mind tries to settle now.

You’re in a home in the middle of fuck knows where. Your hope of maybe escaping is not as bright as it was in the underground compound. So you steadily resolve yourself to accept this situation. Your mother will come. She will find a way to make the deal and you’ll be back home.

When you finally glance out the window you discover you’re on the outskirts of the QZ.

Infected roam here.

“Shouldn’t we head back into the QZ?” You ask worried.

“And have you turnin’ my fuckin’ ass in? No way in hell.” Joel glares at you.

“Infected are out here.” You snap fierce.

“And you got me. Won’t need to worry ‘bout ‘em.” He says simply.

It isn’t that reassuring, but you think of how he’s proven himself already to be rather sturdy even for his age.

“So are we just gonna wait until we hear something?”

“Yeah.” Joel answers with a deadly deadpan that refuses to leave room up for any discussion.

The space stays in a tense thickness until the radio flickers to life scaring the shit out of you.

Tess over the radio gives an update. Still no word from FEDRA. Instead she goes into discussing work with Joel.

They talk in code, use numbers and different colors to describe things. But at one point they let the code slip. You piece it together easily. They work with FEDRA officers to get certain supplies. You knew FEDRA wasn’t squeaky clean, even argued about it with your mom. But this just solidifies the murkiness of it all.

None of them have a car or battery to give.

Joel ends up falling asleep in the chair at the tabled hands crossed over his chest. You now snoop around the place quietly. There’s an extra backpack for you as well as various contraband items still waiting to be delivered.

You silently steal one of the liquor bottles and place it stealthily in your bag.

You also unpack what’s in the bag.

The change of clothes Tess had first offered you, a few rations, a flashlight. No weapon though. You do spot flint, and that’s slightly reassuring.

The sun starts to dwindle. You need to rest. It’s obvious you’re not going anywhere for a while. So returning to the couch you close your eyes.

Then the howl of a clicker wakes you.

Instinctual primordial terror has your eyes snapping open wide in fear. Before you can move, you discover Joel beside you. Even in the dark you see a finger raised up to his lips.

Keep quiet.

You nod, sealing your lips tight.

The ominous clicking noise rattle outside the hall. You almost miss it with how loudly your heart hammers in your ears. The infected’s chatter sounds fainter as it wanders down the hallway.

You exhale through your nose, hopeful this means the infected is close to maybe leaving.

Until the radio flickers to life blaring a tune.

Horror collides into you fast. The clicker roars. Joel acts immediately raising his gun to shoot the radio silent. But it’s too late. The infected screeches, rushing down the hallway with violent steps until it rams into the door with full force. You hold back a scream.

Joel fires at the door, and a loud thud follows.

“Come on!” he snaps, scrambling to get up.

More would come. You slide the backpack on, and instantly follow Joel in a frantic rush.

Heart racing, you stay close to Joel while the two of you rush to escape out of the apartment complex. Screeches of more infected approach.

The night is dark, but Joel is surprisingly keen in maneuvering the area. He leads you into another ransacked building and holds his hand up, a silent sign to stop.

You’d be stopping here. You’re glad. All of your body feels weak. You haven’t seen a clicker up close in years. Now fear eats away at the adrenaline.

“We’ll stay here until daybreak.” Joel speaks barely above a whisper. “Get rest while ya can.”

You’re afraid to sleep now. Don’t even want to think about it.

Suddenly he says your name.

It’s the first time he’s ever said it.

He stares somberly, seriously at you. Joel must have seen whatever fear ran across your face. You fully take in the sight of him. Standing tall, his strong rifle in hand, he’s the image of unwavering determination.

“Sleep, I’ll be up.” He orders.

The distrust you hold for his man slowly is ebbing away. You know he’s simply keeping you alive for the bargain, but it’s enough for now. So you sit on the ground, try to just close your eyes and gather yourself together.

Sunlight again wakes you, and Joel continues standing watch.

He glances back to you, and with his stoic stome nature, he nods.

Time to move.

The journey through the debris and fallen memories of Boston is quiet, tense. Joel stays closer to you the entire way.

“Have another safe house just outside the edges of the city limit. We’ll be safe there.” He mutters low and you nod.

The smuggler king leads confidently. Even though you’re still petrified of infected, you take in the sights of the city. The intricate green vines, the lush landscape among the bones of civilization, it’s all a haunting sight, but you also think of how beautiful it is.

“Y’ever been outside the QZ?” Joel suddenly speaks low.

“Once,” you tell him truthfully. You had been a child then and you barely remember the journey.

“So you’ve been in Boston this entire time?” Joel asks now, sounding curious.

You have. It’s why your mom has such a high ranking within FEDRA.

“Your accent…where are you originally from?” You decide to ask questions now too, keeping the same low tone as Joel.

A part of you assumes he won’t answer or will just respond sarcastically.

“Texas.”

You’re surprised he answered.

“You're a long way from home then.”

He hums a noise that sounds like he agrees.

“Must have been a journey to get you all the way to Boston.” You note, now more curious about him.

Joel stays quiet for a moment, then replies with the lowest ‘yeah’ effectively ending the conversation.

Soon the buildings fade away. The forest creeps in denser as the suburbs approach.

At the edge of the neighborhoods, a home sits splintered off inching into the woods. It seems like the perfect secluded safe house base.

The place hasn’t been touched in a while. Leaves scatter across the title floor, and dust covers so much. You’re thankful this has more space than the small apartment. Joel immediately slings his backpack off then opens a door leading down to a basement. You follow him.

“Don’t fuckin’ follow me.” He snips, yet you stay behind him. He doesn’t stop you.

Instead Joel flickers on many camping lanterns and illuminates the basement. The stockpile here is barren, hardly any weapons or canned goods. Of course a radio sits on the table. Joel flickers to life, but no one answers when he sends his Morse code clicks. His face grows dark with worry.

“Please get me if you hear anything from my mom.” You finally say quietly.

“Yeah, will do.” Joel agrees somber.

It’s enough for now.

Two days pass. No sounds come from the radio. You and Joel walk around each other on egg shells and rarely speak. It’s suffocating. So you rummage around the house to find something to do, anything.

You find a deck of cards and it feels like a gift from above.

Quietly in the living room, you set up a lone game of solitaire on the coffee table. Or patience, as your mom loved to call it when she taught you how to play. Seems perfect to play now. You flip through the cards, placing them at the correct spots and columns.

“Solitaire?” Joel’s voice surprises you. But what shocks you even more is him moving to sit on the floor.

“You play?” You question.

“Not in a while, play other card games like poker or black jack.”

“I play blackjack.” You perk up, and Joel’s eyebrows rise slightly shocked.

You hand him the deck, cleaning up the rest of the cards and start a new game with him.

The game is tense at first, like you and him are still trying to navigate the thick tension. You peek at your cards and he glances at his.

He wins the first game, but now you’re determined.

Eventually you and him get sucked into playing. So many matches pass that when you win Joel pouts, throwing his cards down.

You burst out laughing. It feels like it’s been so long since you’ve laughed, and it’s freeing.

“You’re a sore loser.” You tease.

“I ain’t.” Joel rumbles back, scowling harder.

“Mhm, yeah sure. There’s a candyland box nearby I can get to prove you are.” You surprisingly joke, buoyant.

Joel shakes his head.

“I’ll show ya who’s a sore fuckin’ loser when I beat your ass at poker.”

“I don’t know how to play poker. Go Fish or nothing else.” You shrug.

Then, Joel snorts. It’s not a laugh, not even anything special, but it eases the strain among you and him even more. He starts shuffling the deck and hands out the cards to you.

With the most stern of voices, so seriously Joel, he asks if you have any sevens.

You laugh into your hand.

“I’m being fuckin’ serious!” He snaps.

You laugh even harder.

In this fucked up moment, in this murky situation, this brightens your soul.

A week passes.

Over the radio you hear Tess tell Joel flat out how heavy it’s gotten in the city.

“The fucking fireflies…FEDRA, everything, it’s gotten fucking insane… we might not get the car, or even the fucking battery Joel. We need to think of a plan b.”

Your stomach twists sick. Where was your mom? And what would happen if they decide you’re not worth the hassle anymore.

Shakily you head into the bathroom and sob into your hands trying to stay as quiet as you can.

Soon you’re a shell of yourself.

When you step back outside however, you’re resolved. Instead of the basement, Joel now waits in the kitchen, and his eyes widen seeing you.

“What’s wrong?” His voice picks up with a wind of worry.

“Joel.” You begin calmly and somber. “Be honest with me…”

You ask him the question that’s been haunting you.

What will become of you if FEDRA doesn’t hold up their bargain? If even your mom can’t follow through?

“Will…you get rid of me?” You speak soft, without even having to divulge more, but the festering rotting truth lies under your words.

The silence feels sharpened.

Joel quietly speaks first.

“No. Won’t do that to ya.” He mutters.

You don’t know if he’s lying or telling the truth.

You and Joel simply stare at each other. So much hangs tangled and barbed between you and him.

All you can do is simply nod. You swear his eyes soften for just a moment.

Another week passes. No signs or commotion from FEDRA. It’s beginning to feel like you’re in a room slowly filling with water, like you’re on borrowed time.

But you manage to pass the days with Joel through more card games. You try playing Pictionary with him, but his attempt at drawing a dog looks like a camel, and you laugh so hard at how badly he pouts.

It’s becoming amicable now, you and him.

But supplies are running low. Joel doesn’t sugar coat that harsh truth.

“There’s another stop we can go to from here, but I’m hoping we won’t need to.” He’s still waiting, hoping for FEDRA to answer.

Eventually the night settles in, and you’re surprised he joins you for another card game.

Right now you and him try another game of poker. You’ve come to learn you are not very good, which is also why you think Joel likes playing it knowing he wins.

“So how does a Texan far from home become the king of smugglers?” You try to ease the air by pushing more conversation with him.

“Just something that happened honestly,” Joel mutters, passing out the weathered cards.

“Got involved with my brother back when we started traveling outta Texas and just…never stopped.” He reveals.

“Your brother, he’s the one you’re looking for…” You remember.

“Yeah.” Joel agrees low.

“I hope you find him.” Gathering the cards dealt to you, you mean those words.

“Thanks…hope we can get ya back home.” A hint of sincerity leaks into Joel's voice and you appreciate that.

You’re about to deal your hand when rustling comes from outside. Glancing out the window, you try to find something among the dark shadows.

“What?” Joel asks fast and low.

“I don’t know… thought I heard something.” You mumble.

In that same breath, bullets fly through the window, shattering everything. The moment unfolds in a flurry of chaos.

“Raiders!” Joel shouts while you and him try to stay low. You crawl towards your bag.

The door gets kicked in and your heart races fast. Even as you and Joel scramble to maybe get down to the basement it's hard with the commotion rushing in.

Joel is swift with his gun, but the raiders keep coming.

Windows shatter further in the back of the house. They’re infesting. Time to leave. It’s a rapid rush to get outside. Before running into the woods, you stop to rummage in your bag finally remembering something important.

“The fuck are ya doing?!” Joel screams with a snarl.

You act fast. You rip a piece of your shirt edge, and grab the alcohol you stole along with the flint.

“Shit.” Joel breathes out realizing what you’re doing.

You’ve seen plenty of these, just never believed you’d ever make one.

Cloth in the liquid, Joel moves to help you light the flint.

Then when fire sparks catches onto the strip of clothing you stand up.

The adrenaline sets you ablaze. You throw the bottle with all your might. It manages to collide against the house’s porch. Soon the world is engulfed in a vibrant orange flame, a hellfire right before you.

Screams of raiders mix with the flames.

“Come on.” Joel urges and grabs your hand.

A rush of footsteps comes and it’s too late to react.

Something hard hits the side of your face. You cry in pain falling to the ground. The world spins on itself. Everything is disoriented. Your face throbs so bad, and you cough through the tears stinging your eyes. The sound of Joel firing off his gun again comes.

Then his hands steady you up.

“Y’okay darlin’?” He asks frantic and you nod, tired.

“Let’s go.” Joel grabs your hand again. This time don’t let it go.

Even arriving at the abandoned gas station deemed safe to stay, you don’t let his hand go. He doesn’t yell at you about it.

Instead Joel sits besides you, flush against your side.

Against the shadowed darkness of the old building, you hold his hand firm in his and he doesn’t let go either.

You wake up first this time and find your head slumped against Joel’s shoulder, resting against him now. His head also rests on top of yours.

This is new.

But then again, so was the term he used for you. You wonder if you just imagined it.

Unlike now, this is very real. You’ve never been this close to him, can smell the faintest traces of him, musky and dark. He snores. His hair tickles against your head, but you don’t want to move.

If anything you close your eyes again hoping for a few more minutes of peace. Joel eventually shifts, waking you both up. Nothing is said about the sleeping positions.

Then he turns to you, and his face falls.

Immediately Joel moves closer. Delicately one of his hands moves to your chin to examine your cheek.

“Does it hurt?” He asks gently and you shake your head.

Not as much. You know there’s probably an ugly bruise, but it could be worse. You’re grateful this is all you have.

“You should’ve seen the other guy.” You darkly joke.

Joel scoffs a small noise, maybe the echo of a laugh.

“So… Should I be worried about anything else you might’ve stolen?” His dry tone doesn’t sound upset.

You promise the bottle is all you took.

Joel hums, nodding.

“You continue to keep surprisin’ me.” His words are softer than he’s ever sounded

Now you realize, Joel is closer than ever before too. His face intensely scowled up now stares directly at you.

You drink in the sight of the king of the smugglers this close. The sun spots on his face, the age lines along his gorgeous features, it’s hard to deny how stunning he is.

After yesterday night it’s like you’re reminded raw and fierce how dangerous, but gorgeous of a man Joel is.

You think of the party you first met Joel. You remember thinking how you felt the remnants of safety, of protection that Joel showed then.

You should hate him. You wouldn’t be in these situations if it wasn’t for him. But when you ask yourself if you would rather be in the QZ, the truth is a distorted answer you might not be ready to face.

Without a word Joel whips around and moves to sling his backpack on better.

“Come on, let’s head out.” He announces.

You stay close to his side.

You expected another silent journey. However, the warmth of the day, the stretch of houses blurring more into the woods brings Joel out of his shell.

He talks about the Texas heat and how it used to be scorching. Interestingly points out different housing structures, and you learn he used to work as a contractor. Joel even asks about your job working at the school.

“It’s a job.” You say a bit standoffish.

“You don’t like it.” Joel sees right through you instantly.

“My mom likes it.” It’s safe, secure, stable and away from any harm and under the watch of FEDRA.

“What d’ya want to do then?” Joel asks surprisingly patient.

You pause momentarily, and the wind blows across your face.

It’s such a simple silly dream you hold in your heart…

Having your own house, enjoying peace, simply embracing living day to day without any worry about what to do or if your mom would approve.

“To simply be.” You answer. It’s enough for Joel, and you swear you see a faint grin tugging his lips.

The trail transforms into a serene sight, and you’re in awe of the beautiful landscape.

You should be scared that you’re walking away more and more from the QZ, even trusting Joel to follow him. But you’re not. The stretching trees untouched by the city, the edges of summer still peeking through the greenery, it's beautiful.

And getting hear Joel open up more, means more than you care to admit. He talks about this one mix up a couple of his guys made where they mistook baby milk formula powder for cocaine.

“Not Mister Scary Lord of the underworld getting upset over that.” You tease, and it almost feels like flirting.

Joel rolls his eyes. It adds a glowing playfulness to him, like seeing a small glimpse of the man he was before the world ended.

The further from the QZ you go, the deeper and deeper you’re drawn into this endless maze of a man that is Joel.

(iv)

You never believed a place like Bill and Frank’s existed.

Their own personal town is otherworldly. They, mainly Frank, welcome you with warm and glimmering hospitality. They’re both older, slightly around Joel’s age.

“So, what’s a lovely thing like you doing with Joel?” Frank asks jokingly.

“Oh, I’m just a hostage.” You sleepily grin. Frank’s face falls while Bill barks a laugh.

It’s easy to melt into this new world with these two and Joel. You never expected him to have friends like this, and it’s interesting uncovering more facets of him.

Bill barks for you not snoop, but Frank winks reassuringly to make yourself at home. The hot shower is an oasis, and the comfortable bed becomes a cloud.

Well rested, the next day you wander the town. You stay out until it’s dark. No infected, no raiders, no fireflies or no worries… just simply you and the beautiful night sky above.

“Still not payin’ attention to where you’re goin’.” Joel’s voice flutters in.

Along the side of the street he looks dreamy under the soft dark night.

“Can’t help it,” you truthfully say, glancing back up. The stars are too lovely not to admire.

You end up wandering closer to Joel or maybe he walks towards you. It’s too hard to tell.

“You can never see the stars this bright even at the QZ.” You return to admire the stars even with Joel besides you.

If your mom just knew how far you were.

Joel snorts, and you realize you spoke those words aloud. Even though you’re a bit embarrassed you simply shrug.

“It’s true.” You agree.

“Seems like she’s kinda…” Joel trails off.

“Controlling?” You finish, and he nods.

You understand why. She’s seen horrors, lost so much. But you’re an adult, a fully grown one and you’ve seen a fair share of hardships too. You just want to be understanding both to her, and to yourself.

You even explain this to Joel.

“You’re good, maybe too kind.” Joel mutters and you now intrigued turn to him. His eyes twinkle in the dark night more than they ever have. “Don’t seem to see the bad in people.”

Maybe you do. Maybe you understand that people in this world contain fuzzy and hard to decipher multitudes now.

Joel snorts when you tell him that.

“Y’know you’ve been traveling with a one of FEDRA’s top bad guys this whole entire time right?”

You know. Joel even calls himself a thief. But he doesn’t seem as evil as you believed him to be.

Glancing at him, the way the darkness should bring out his shadows. It instead illuminates him like a faint star. You think someone this man can’t be fully evil. Or maybe you’re not as good, blooming and unfolding in the mud to reveal your true nature.

You and Joel simply walk back to Bill and Frank’s in silence.

The radio also stays silent another week.

You’re worried about overstaying your welcome, especially with how hard Bill glares at you like you’re a pest. Frank however, eagerly includes you in so many of his projects and errands.

“Not as young as I used to be.” He teases while tending to one of the gardens, and you readily help as much as you can.

You stare in awe at all the beautiful lush vegetables and plants. There’s even a couple of fruit trees.

“Joel always asks for fruit when he comes for trades.” Frank chuckles.

You never would have expected Bill and Frank to be a part of Joel’s team.

“I know, we don’t seem like the type, or maybe I don’t seem like the type to be helping smugglers.” Frank comments teasing, as if he read your mind.

You quickly stammer out that you don’t mind.

“This world, it’s not as black and white as we think it is. Surviving an apocalypse really does paint everything in a murky gray. Sometimes, it’s okay to just accept that.” Frank explains.

You’re slowly starting to agree more and more with that.

“I know…there’s…a delicate situation going on between you and Joel.” Frank speaks cautiously.

“But I want you to know…that if this is serious, and you don’t feel comfortable with Joel or truly want to go return home, there’s ways we could figure it out.” His tone is serious, truthful and sincere.

His words warm you.

But you swallow hard. In the watch of the peaceful yard you reveal a shadowed truth that’s been building in you.

You don’t know if you want to go back. You know you will have to if FEDRA and your mom honor the trade. But you’re dreading returning to your life under the eyes of the decaying QZ streets, FEDRA, your mother…

And even if you do return there, you can’t imagine going without Joel.

“I just want to make sure he’s safe.” You add quietly.

“You probably think I sound awful or out of my mind.” Then you laugh hollow.

Frank doesn’t reply immediately. You wait for him to judge you.

“I don’t think that at all.” His hand gently pats yours. “I think you’re actually really brave being so honest.”

That brings a thickness in your throat. Frank grins warmly at you, squeezes your hand comfortingly. You soak up his kindness like a flower bud in the sunlight.

However, another day passes with no noise among the picturesque world.

At breakfast you try holding back your laughter while Bill and Frankie aruge over the Wizard of Oz.

Joel, who surprisingly slept in late, emerges to take a seat at the table.

Him and Bill immediately jump into discussion about smuggling routes and new supplies. Frank slowly slips out to the kitchen.

“What day is it?” Joel asks.

Bill simply tells it to Joel, but it’s like a switch is flipped on.

He shoots up out of his chair, doesn’t even care that it topples over or that he slams into the table knocking everything. Bill yells at him fiercely. But Joel storms out of the room leaving everyone in his aftermath.

“What happened?” Frank asks, emerging back into the dining room.

“Joel, being fucking Joel.” Bill sneers.

Frank ignores his husband and turns to you. Explaining what happened, his lovely face frowns instant.

“Oh…oh I forgot about today.” He mutters.

You ask what today means. Frank slides closer to you with his eyes low.

“If I remember right…Today’s Sarah’s birthday.” He answers.

Confusion bubbles up, and you ask who Sarah is.

Frank’s face contorts in shock.

“Sarah…she’s Joel’s daughter that passed away.”

Those words take your breath away and you feel your world tilt on its axis.

Joel was a dad. Joel had a daughter.

You never would have expected. Frank must see the look in your eyes now as he places a hand on your shoulder.

“He doesn’t talk about her much. It’s not your fault you didn’t know.”

You’re left haunted by it all though.

Eventually you get the confidence and bravery enough to find Joel.

Walking around the vacant neighbor, you eventually spot him sitting on the porch step of one of the homes.

“Fuck you doin’ here?” He snaps, but there’s no malice in his voice, only a hollowness.

Standing besides him, you inhale deep.

“My big sister was infected on outbreak day.” You begin.

It happened after school when your mom was talking with your neighbor outside your home. You were still so little, barely remember pieces of it.

But the memories you have are sharp.

You’re in the kitchen, laughing at something your sister says. Suddenly she starts twitching. Then your world ended. You still hear her snarls sometimes, still taste the terror when she tried biting you and how you prayed it was just a game, until the screams of your mom came. It’s simply been you and her ever since.

Joel’s face finally turns to you and his eyes are wide, glossy obsidian gems and so open, so unlike Joel. Yet it’s like you’re seeing a true layer of him.

“I’m so sorry about your daughter Joel. That pain of loss never really leaves and I get it.” You carry your big sister’s ghost with you now.

Joel doesn’t say anything, instead clenches his jaw and blinks away the shimmering gloss reflecting in his eyes.

“It ain’t the same.” He suddenly snaps back. “You never felt the pain of losin’ a child.”

You feel insulted.

“Loss is still a loss Joel. Don’t you dare say my hurt is less than yours. What would your daughter say?” You snap back.

You know that’s not a kind thing to say. It galvanizes Joel. He bolts up and becomes a terrifying looming force that pierces you where you stand.

His voice silence is deadly, slices through you.

There’s so much you want to say to hurt him, but what good will it do. You simply blink away tears and walk away, leaving Joel to his ache as you try to quell yours.

Trying to settle your emotions, you end up walking around the ghost town and spot various glorious wildflowers, blooms so vibrantly colorful. You grab as many as you can.

Back at the house, Frank brightens immediately seeing the flowers in your hands.

“I got just the vase for them!”

Frank asks if you picked these for yourself and you shake your head.

“For those who have passed, and for Sarah.” Your answer.

Frank doesn’t say anything but instead nods, a silent understanding.

You head back to the guest room to try taking a nap. You accidentally left the door open partially, and soon enough Joel’s arrival lumbers into the grand home.

“Bill get those for you?” He notices the flowers.

Frank snorts. “You know Bill wouldn’t.”

He instead clarifies you did.

“For today…for Sarah.” Frank then adds.

Joel is quiet. You close your eyes and now drift into the flickering world between falling asleep and being aware.

You swear you faintly hear the door creak open more, catch the faint smell of cedar, and feel delicate but callous fingers run across your face.

But when you open your eyes, no one is in the room.

It’s like nothing happened between you or Joel the next morning. He even helps you and Frank outside harvesting some of the ripe new fruit.

“Can't handle Bill’s grumpy ass anymore.” Joel explains.

“Two grumpies together might just be too much.” You tease. Joel glares dully at you. Frank snickers amused.

You perk up bright seeing the lovely apples on the tree.

“Go ahead! Try one!” Frank eagerly urges and you do.

You haven’t had fresh apples in years. Your eyes close in bliss tasting sweet heaven and you munch away.

Suddenly a thick thumb runs against your cheek and your eyes snap open.

“Sorry. Got some on your cheek.” Joel clarifies drawing his hand away.

He suddenly draws it into his mouth to have a taste. You feel a bit dizzy but in a way that makes your stomach flip.

Joel’s eyes go wide, momentarily realizing what he did. Without another word, he bolts.

You and Frank are left staring at each other stunned.

The rest of the day Joel stays glued to the radio in Bill’s workshop.

Later that night your fingers crawl silently under the sheets, under your underwear, and you imagine what Joel would feel like. This man that’s taken you away from your home - you should feel guilty and ashamed, even horrified at this. But instead you only find an ache for more for his fingers to replace yours.

But even among the decadent desires you indulge in more and more…

Another week passes.

You and Joel share a somberness, slowly facing the harsh truth.

You may not be returning home.

“I want us to have a nice dinner tonight!” Frank must sense it too because he declares a bright order.

“So that means new outfits and everyone taking a good shower!” Frank insists proudly showing you to the clothing boutique the town has.

You end up grabbing the softest looking sundress. It’s delicate, fits comfortably on you and even makes you feel brand new.

Especially after taking another warm shower with the homemade lavender soap Frank gave you as another gift. Bill seems to be warming up to you. He even makes a dull joke about you taking a shorter shower than Joel.

When Joel does emerge from the shower, something shifts in you. His wet slicked back hair highlights all his silver streaks. In the new button up shirt Frank shoved at him and ordered him to wear, he’s gorgeous.

The terrifying ruler of a smuggling empire, now just a man who seems almost embarrassed, fidgets because you stare at him so directly.

Dinner is thankfully wonderful.

At some point you realize the role of hostage, of someone kidnapped, doesn’t feel so barbed. You now roam freely without any fear. Laugh warmly at the stories Frank tells that makes Bill scoff and Joel roll his eyes.

You insist on cleaning up to let Bill and Frank enjoy the nice evening to themselves.

In the kitchen you gather the plates until the door creaks open behind.

“Needed to get away from Bill’s god damn glarin’ st me being the third wheel.” Joel huffs.

Smirking, you find Joel effortlessly begins putting away dishes, helping.

It’s peaceful. In another life you wonder if this could have been a regular evening, in a house you owned…with someone you cared for.

Someone who you hate looks eerily like Joel.

You shift to go grab something just as he moves, and the two of you gently collide. It’s nothing extreme, but Joel’s hand moves to steady you against your lower back.

“Sorry.” He mutters, and your eyes flicker to him. He’s close again. So close you can almost smell the rosemary and pine soap among a scent so deeply Joel. He doesn't move yet. Neither do you.

That’s when you catch it, Joel’s deep rust eyes glance away from your gaze and towards your lips.

You wonder if maybe you’re seeing things, or have something on your face. But his hand against your back feels warm, steady, like you never want it to leave. His face ever so slightly begins to pull closer towards you.

You don’t want this to stop.

But Bills footsteps clamor to the kitchen. It electrifies both you and Joel causing him to scurry out of the kitchen.

That night you’re unable to sleep.

Frank always offered his collection of books for you to browse through. You decide to glance around and hope something sparks your interest.

That’s when a muffled groan floats out into the hallway.

Curiosity and a hint of worry has you walking back towards the rooms.

A choked out sigh comes from Joel’s room and the world melts away.

You need to go back to your room, even head back to the living room.

But you instead lean closer and find the door is slightly cracked like Joel thought he closed it but didn’t.

You faintly hear it, the sound of him jerking off. His soft sighs, his hand rubbing out his cock, it makes your mouth dry and water at the same time.

You’re no better than a creepy pervert, but you can’t help it.

Joel’s hand speeds up faster and now your wet core begs for attention already.

Then his climax hits with a deep loud groan, and it’s delicious.

You shift trying to quell the heat crawling all over your body.

But Joel sighs.

And he says your name.

It’s clear, steals your breath.

Maybe it’s been this recent journey that’s reminded you how short this life is… but whatever galvanized energy it is, it surges through you to move and push into Joel’s room.

Oh he’s a sight.

Your mouth waters seeing his cock, thick, beautiful and messy before it’s covered by the blanket.

Joel scrambles up petrified. “What the fuck y’doing here?!”

“You said my name,” you whisper slowly creeping towards him while shutting the door behind you.

“You’re hearin’ shit.” He barks low, angry and harsh.

You swallow hard.

“I think about you too… whenever I touch myself.” You admit barely above a whisper.

Joel’s eyebrows fly up to his hairline, but immediately he coughs as if he got punched.

“Go back to your room.” He urges, but it’s not persistent. You shake your head no, and now arrive against the side of his bed.

“We… you…this shouldn’t be happenin’.” He urges.

“You say you’re a thief, that you’re the bad guy here,” you mutter posessed. “Maybe I am too.”

“Darlin’” Joel breathes out that sacred term, the one you’ve prayed to hear again.

Confidence surges through you more toxic than any other poison.

“Maybe I wanna take for once,” you whisper, moving onto the bed. Your eyes glance to the wet white sticky mess against Joel’s stomach and his hand that he didn’t cover.

Your mouth aches to taste him.

So flickering your gaze to Joel, it’s a cautious moment and what you’re about to do can fall apart in a minute. But your hand moves delicately, cautious. Your eyes stay on Joel, waiting for him to tell you no or react.

But he doesn’t.

You grab his cum covered hand still keeping your eyes on him. Until you glance down at his hand, his calloused beautiful large hand.

He still hasn’t pulled away or made a noise to stop you.

Tentatively you lick up his fingers, tasting his release.

“Fuck!” Joel barks out a harsh hiss.

You’re worried he’s going to yank his hand away, but he doesn’t. He instead sits up more like he’s been electrocuted.

It’s enough to let you indulge now.

So you draw his fingers into your mouth.

They’re so large. The salty taste of his cum and the taste of his skin on your tongue makes your eyes close as you clean his fingers.

“Fuckin’ shit, baby.” You want to hear him say those words over and over, want to cherish how wrecked his voice breaks.

Now, very slowly, Joel’s fingers move in your mouth and you moan. He traces your teeth, drags the meat of his fingers across your tongue and plunges deeper into your mouth.

Your eyes roll back, and on instinct you start sucking.

“Yeah darlin’ yeah.” Joe whispers hoarsely, and you want to get drunk on him.

Steady, his fingers plunge in and out, fucking your mouth as you become putty in his hold. His other hand now runs up your thigh, under the edge of your dress.

“Want you so bad Joel.” Even with his fingers in your mouth you whimper out those words maybe mainly to yourself, maybe thinking this is just a dream.

But the way Joel surges up, yanks his hand out of your mouth to clutch your face, and he kisses you like a parched man…

This feels too good to be a dream.

You melt into it, into Joel, greedily stealing all he gives you. Just as you welcome him to steal all he wants from you, and you readily give him everything. No worries about anything else, it’s simply you and him.

When Joel slides into you, deep and wide, when his breath tickles the heat of your skin, you taste the essence of him all around - the world feels reborn.

Joel however, is slightly more reluctant.

“M’too old for you.” He argues after the second night you crawl into his room.

“You think I care?” I simply say running your fingers against his warm chest.

“You should.”

Well you don’t and you tell him that.

Then the dark doubt creeps in.

Because there are other things you should care about.

“Are you doing this…”

Just to be cruel, to maybe even control you.

Joel sits up holding your hand against his chest. Your eyes met his. There’s steeled sincerity in his eyes as he shakes his head.

“No… hate that I wanted you from the start, before all this.” At the party. That feels like ages ago.

You can’t help but ask him why, why you.

He sighs, and his thumb strokes your hand.

“Saw you when ya first walked in. You laughed at something your friend said. It was so loud, so fuckin’ genuine.”

You’re about to apologize, embarrassed, at how loud you laugh until Joel continues.

“Knew you were something fierce, something beautiful. I was gone the minute you smashed that god damn drink in that guy's face.”

He doesn’t have to say anything else. So much clouds the room and it feels thick, but it’s like the thickness of a misty morning fog you want to get lost in. You kiss him tenderly, as if you have all the time in the world.

After this a new shift comes between you and Joel. His hands always seem to be on you, gently touching your arm or grazing past you closer. After your nights with him, hickies paint your thighs and you admire them in the morning.

In the dark, Joel tells you more about Tommy, about the plan he has for finding his brother. Even sometimes he reveals bits and pieces about Sarah.

You soak in every moment you can with him. Joel even stays a full day away from the radio helping Bill renovating one of the sheds. It’s a gift watching Joel work with his hands and tools, like watching the shadow of a past still existing in him.

Your heart becomes a treasure chest holding all these moments.

But something darker still rots in you.

FEDRA still remains silent.

(v)

Summer winds down. Cooler air settles in the town, and you happily enjoy sitting on the porch more and more.

You’d been eyeing the pomegranate for a few days. Now after Frank happily told you to enjoy, you excitedly and greedily cut into it. Joel even showed you how to earlier.

Currently you sit on the porch enjoying the soft breeze. Frank sits besides you watching Bill work on a project. You laugh at how affectionate the two are even while bickering.

Scooping out a couple of the pomegranate seeds, their beautiful ruby color stains your finger. They taste of a sweetness you never want to leave. Boots approach from behind.

“Joel! Come, sit. Enjoy the nice early autumn weather.” Frank calls and you turn to grin at him.

“FEDRA finally got in contact.” Joel’s words pop the air.

Everything stills.

When you turn towards Joel, the somber stare on his face already reveals the answer.

FEDRA denied the exchange.

The rest of the pomegranate sits uneaten on the porch.

You sit in Joel’s room quietly for what feels like years. The tears don’t even come anymore.

“She can stay here! She’d be a welcomed addition” Frank urges from the living room. “We’ve appreciated all the extra help around here.”

“No. Take her back.” Bill interjects flat.

Frank shushes his husband.

The conversation becomes low, muffled, and you’re too tired to even try and listen. You instead curl into Joel’s pillow, and let sleep take you.

A callous hand gently stroking your cheeks wakes you. The low early evening light bathes Joel glorious, and you faintly smell wine Joel must have had.

“You gonna get rid of me now?” You mumble hollow.

Joel shakes his head no.

“Too late for that.” He says with the faintest hint of a crooked grin. “Told ya, I’m head smuggler for a fuckin’ reason, like to keep what’s mine close.”

You place your hand over his and squeeze it tight. But the tears manage to return.

“What’s gonna happen now?” While you ask, your voice breaks.

Joel exhales.

“Don’t know.” He says truthfully.

You’re grateful he’s being honest. Joel’s dark autumn eyes glance away.

“I know we’ll manage, find a car, get Tommy.” He nods to himself.

“But…” he adds with his voice trailing off.

“Don’t wanna think about you leaving,” Joel admits with the lowest rumble.

“Can’t fuckin’ handle it… thinkin’ about not knowin’ how you’re doing, not seeing you…” he shakes his head.

“It’s fuck up. I know it’s god damn fucked up... If you want me to take you back to the QZ, I’ll do it. If you wanna just stay here, I’d let ya.” Joel’s voice sounds strained, almost debris filled with so many emotions begging to get out.

You slide your hands around him, and he draws you closer. The world might be crumbling again all around you, but he feels like a steady rock amongst it all.

“I don’t wanna leave, don’t wanna leave you.” You whimper out the truth.

Joel holds you tighter into his strong warm embrace.

That night you fuck Joel like it’s the last time you’ll ever see him, and a grim darkness seeping in your mind whispers it might be.

You want every piece of him. So when you open your mouth wide, without any question, Joel runs his thumb across your bottom lip and spits into your mouth. You greedily swallow.

What surprises you is when you’re seated in Joel’s lap, slowly grinding up and down on his thick cock, he weakly opens his mouth as well.

Tenderly stroking his cheek, you gently lean down and let the spit drip from your mouth into his. You feel drunk watching Joel’s eyes roll back as he swallows.

Instead of feral roughness, or a devouring passion, it’s tender, makes your heart swell. Joel’s hands map you out like you’re a cherished rare gem.

In his arms, in the quiet stillness of the room, your heart begs for weeds to start growing around you.

(vi)

From a glance out the window, the pumpkins seem to be flourishing beautifully. They’re your first big vegetables you’re growing, with Bill’s supervision of course. But you’re proud of the progress nonetheless.

You’re finishing cleaning the last bit of dishes from breakfast when a sturdy arm slides around you from behind.

For someone so grumpy, Joel is surprisingly and secretly a cuddly creature. His wonderful nose burrows into the side of your face.

“Wanna work on the kitchen today,” he mutters.

The old house across the street from Bill and Frank’s has become the new project. While you still stay with Bill and Frank, your hope is to eventually make that empty house a home.

The autumn air invigorates you as you go to visit Frank in his sunroom.

“Will you be okay here by yourself?” You ask him gently.

Frank snorts. “You and Bill both, such worrywarts.”

Frank’s been moving slower, coughing more. It tugs at your heart. Over the radio you now even ask Tess if there’s other medication options for him to try.

You’ve grown to care about him, even grouchy Bill and Tess who even seems to warm up to you now.

It’s your own carved out universe.

Frank good naturedly pats your hand, reassuring you he’ll be fine. With a squeeze to his shoulder and a warm goodbye, you head across the street.

Of course Joel takes charge, and it’s hard not to jump his bones seeing how effortlessly he takes to fixing up this house.

The night you decided to stay here, Joel slid you a paper and pen.

“Draw me your dream house.” He told you gruffy.

He kept that very poor drawing. It’s what guides the renovations. The house is smaller than Bill and Frank’s but to you, it’s a perfect size.

“You know I can do it myself, make Bill work too.” Joel had told you when you first showed up to help.

“I know, but I wanna help. Wanna know my elbow grease went into everything too.” You told Joel with a grin.

He didn’t shoo you away after that. Now you get to help around when you can. The sanded cabinets and freshly painted walls, all fruits of your labor and you’re excited, proud, seeing the house come together. It’s breathing life into his dusty space, and you cherish it.

Eventually you head back to Bill and Frank’s.

Frank calls to you. “The radio came on.”

With Joel throwing himself into fixing up the house, interestingly enough you’ve become his stand in. It’s how you and Tess slowly began bonding. You’ve told her FEDRA routes and patrol changes and she’s in turn gossiped about what’s been happening in Boston.

You miss it often, but the peace of walking to visit your pumpkins, to helping Frank at breakfast, of having Joel in your bed…it’s like a new breath in your lungs.

“Hey.” You greet Tess.

She says your name, somber and you still.

“Your mom…she finally got in contact with us.”

You inhale shakily. A part of you had wondered if your mom would do something like this.

Finally managing to get a hold of a battery, your mom is offering to trade it for you.

A wave of fear does grip you. You don’t want to leave, don’t want to go back. But you also miss her dearly.

When Joel returns, beautifully coated in sweat and saw dust, he’s like a construction god. But seeing your face, he instantly understands something’s up.

In the seclusion of your room, you tell Joel you’ll return to Boston, and his eyes become moons.

“You don’t have to go back.” Joel whispers to you later that night. “Can say we want more.”

You shake your head.

Your mom has been through enough, and Joel needs this.

“You need to find Tommy.”

His hand curls against your face holding your cheek so precious. “We’ll find another battery, or hell I’ll take one of Bill’s. Don’t want ya feeling like you’re forced to go back.”

This has all been out of your control and now, you have a say.

You’ll return with Joel, but you won’t be fully returning to your life in Boston either. You’ll exist between these two worlds now, visiting your mom and primarily staying with Joel.

Your mom won’t be happy about this, you can almost hear her fury already. But this is what you want. It’s the journey your path will take.

“Y’okay with this?” Joel suddenly asks before leaving the gate to the town. His eyes search yours. “You don’t have to do this, especially for me.”

You understand what he means, but this is for you.

Gently you draw Joel towards you and kiss him soft.

With the smuggler king, you walk firmly into the sunlight. The early autumn breeze gently guides you forward.

[hazyange1s]

Enshrouded

Summary: (abbreviated from the ao3 version because this baby is long enough 😂) MC is an Auror seeking refuge from the arduous nature of her everyday life, and finds it in a secret wizarding club hidden in London; where she has an unforgettable encounter with a strangely familiar, masked man.

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x F!MC / Reader

Warnings: EXPLICIT 18+ MINORS DNI. — p in v, oral (f and m receiving), drug/alcohol use, semi-public, anonymous, little bit rough but nothing too crazy, mentions of violence/blood (mc just really LOVES her job lmao), lots of adult language oop, aged up characters (everyone is in their early 20’s)

Word count: 7.3k

A/N: this idea came to me in a dream… nah jk it came to me while watching Bridgerton (go figure). Started writing it months ago and after much self-doubt I present baby’s first published filth 💀

read here on Ao3 🌹

It was the mystery. She had long suspected that was what kept her going back for more, time and time again.

The risk of it all was enticing too, of course, but more than anything, she loved a damn good mystery. One complex and intricate, one that took time and effort to unravel. As an Auror, well, her life was chock full of such simple delights.

Regrettably, there wasn’t much joy to be had in solving the cases slapped on her desk by the Chief Auror - any satisfaction in making an arrest was often muddied by the names of the victims left behind. So she often sought out milder (but just as potent) forms of that heady adrenaline rush in order to scratch the itch - and her absolute favorite was Reverie. Unassuming enough as names go, and the facade would lead you to think so, too: its uniform brick painted a dingy gray just like every other shopfront along the shadowed, misty cobblestone of Knockturn Alley.

If any of her coworkers found out she frequented such a spot …oh, she’d never hear the end of it. Worse than that, her Chief might even believe such behavior warranted suspension; as wanton impropriety from a well known Ministry employee would bring her morals into question. Likely, she’d get an earful about the utter shame it would bring upon the Ministry itself if she were spotted.

But that was the glorious thing about Reverie: the moment you stepped through its doors, you became somebody else.

Or, rather, no one at all.

Attendance was by invitation only; delivered anonymously while the recipient slept soundly in their bed (certainly disconcerting, but how could she complain?). No letter, just a silken black mask.

Donning the disguise allowed its wearer to see past the heavy glamor placed on the building and step inside - without being apprehended by one of the black-clad guards on watch. Yet the mask’s hidden talents didn’t end there. It was the club’s signature secret: while it was true they merely framed the eyes, each mask contained a glamor of their own that completely concealed one’s identity - whether or not someone would recognize them without it.

(You could be staring into the face of your best friend and would never know it.)

Which, incidentally, was expressly forbidden inside the club’s boundaries (one of very few rules, mind); as strict anonymity was what kept the underground facility running, despite the fact that the Ministry remained attuned to the whispers of a taboo venue boasting all manners of rampant debauchery right under their noses.

Still, the sorcery that offered Reverie protection had held true for well over five years, and its owners were more than dedicated to ensuring it was always so.

Most well-versed and connected members of English wizarding society had at least indulged in rumors of an alternative establishment hidden in the city. They traded whispers of what horrors may lurk behind those gray walls - dark magic and blatant impropriety and dangerous indulgences…

They couldn’t be more right.

The air was already thick with the tang of whiskey and rank with perspiration by the time she arrived an hour after its Friday opening. With each step she took through the meandering crowd, heels clicking on the marble floors, curling smoke in every shade imaginable wafted around the room and blissfully chased away the odor with frankincense and mallowsweet.

But she hadn’t come for the medicinals tonight, tempting as they were after a week that had left her emptier than the glasses long ago abandoned by drunken patrons. Not even a goblet of Merlot or a shot of coffee liqueur (with a splash of cream) could chase away what ailed her.

No, tonight she sought only one means of release, and needed nothing but the tension simmering in her blood as fuel for the fire driving her to desperation.

Nights at Reverie were not for the faint of heart (or stomach), nor the chaste and mild. While technically not allowed in open spaces, more than half of the attendees usually found themselves with a partner by dawn; in one of the many private back rooms or curtained-off alcoves - or dark corners, even.

After all, what did they have to lose when the strings of your identity weren’t a factor?

Usually she’d been content to let the men and women come to her, and admittedly there hadn’t been a shortage of such… entanglements in the three months since she’d received her own mask.

But the time for coy shyness and drawn out flirtation was long gone. Leaning against one of the wall-to-floor Grecian columns at the edge of the room, she simply tossed back her hair and began to scan it for potential prey.

There was a generous sample size, it was true. A tall, lithe gentleman whose hair shone like spun gold, a flawlessly curved woman with rich brown skin, a broad redhead sporting a wide grin…

No, no, and no… none of them are just right.

She huffed with restrained frustration, tapping her foot to the string music playing a haunting melody that seemed to fill every space in the curved underground.

You know there’s only one person you wanted to find here tonight.

Perhaps she’d have to lower her standards - beggars can’t be choosers, and all that.

“There you are.”

Gasping, she pressed a palm to her satin covered chest, which heaved beneath the boning of her - possibly too tight - corset at the unexpected greeting. But what truly robbed her of breath until she was penniless… oh, gods.

They’d answered her prayers after all: the man standing behind her with a luminous grin was precisely the one she’d been hoping to see.

A regular, as luck would have it. She’d spotted him in attendance more often than not, but had never had the courage to approach (mainly due to the slew of witches and wizards who got to him first).

With her attraction being largely from afar, she’d assumed that his lack of…well, anything - other than a single dance lasting no more than five minutes - had meant he was uninterested. Though the smile he wore was genuine, not like the mask framing his dark eyes, and it sparked in the dim lighting cast from candelabras around the wide room.

“Here I am…?” She quirked a brow questioningly, hand lowering to her hip. “But, er, you must be mistaken. I’m not sure I’m the person you’re looking for.”

“Oh, I’m quite sure you are.” His chuckle was somehow more musical than the quartet filling the air and more rough than smooth, but exquisitely rich - as was the material of his dark vest and the deep gray collared shirt rolled above his elbows.

“On account of the fact that I’d know that particular dress anywhere. We’ve never been properly introduced, as I recall.”

“You recall correctly.” She smiled - maybe coy was still in the cards, if only to spend more time with this handsome stranger.

“I suppose that’s frowned upon here really, so…I believe there’s a better way we could become acquainted, if you’d be amenable.”

She had to be impressed with his wanton confidence, if nothing else…though she got the sense there were many rather impressive things about him. Even more arresting was the boldness of his touch; broad hands reaching for hers to bring to his supple lips, where they lingered for a moment before releasing her gently.

Alright. He knew what he was doing.

But she had to play just a touch hard to get - if only to give him a taste of what he’d been dishing out for months (intentionally or otherwise). He’d been playing coy after their first and only real interaction; shooting her little winks and whispered hellos on random nights - only to disappear again amongst the all-black crowd without giving her a chance to respond.

Likely, he’d been going off to find some other witch or wizard for entertainment.

“I’m sorry,” she said sweetly, a knowing smile playing on her own red-painted lips. “I don’t recall meeting you at all. Your face has a similar quality to many men here, you see.”

“Ah, somehow I doubt that.” Darkness collected in his dimples (how had she not noticed them before?)

“Saturday, precisely two months ago to the day, you were dancing in my arms wearing a red dress like you have on right now.” His voice was like honey and velvet as he spoke. With each word, he seemed to get closer.

And yes, of course she remembered. She was just surprised he still did.

It’s why she’d been stuck with a ridiculous, schoolgirl infatuation for weeks now; why she’d worn red each and every night in the hopes of catching his attention once more.

The brief escapades she’d busied herself with in the meantime had done in a pinch, but there was something about him she was positively dying to unravel. Perhaps it was the spark in those deep brown eyes - like the dark liquor she favored- that spoke of depths hidden far below the playful, self-assured surface.

Or maybe it was how he smelled from mere inches away, as he was now: pine, sandalwood, and a spicy scent akin to the smoke furling around him like a haze of fog.

“You’ve got quite the memory.” She mused, unable to stop her smile from bursting into full bloom. “I suppose that does ring a bell— you trodded on my foot.”

He groaned. “I’d had a lot of whiskey that night. I’m usually much more coordinated when sober. In fact…”

His fingers slid up her wrist, moving with slow caresses up her arm and shoulder until they came to rest beneath her jaw, angling it up to align with his gaze.

“Is it too presumptuous of me to ask…if you’d let me make it up to you?”

For a moment - just a breath, she hesitated. And why? This was exactly what she’d come for tonight, and with the man she’d lusted over for ages now falling right into her lap… what sort of woman would refuse?

It was something unidentifiable, intangible. A tug on her gut. Something that flashed in the white of his smile as it caught the candlelight. Like a sense of deja vu; there one second and gone the next, leaving her with nothing but the old itch crawling beneath her flushed skin.

“Presumptuous, certainly. But not unwelcome. Everyone deserves a second chance.” She purred, squaring her shoulders and allowing him to guide her to the edge of the room with one palm flat on her lower back.

What she’d expected was to be whisked away to one of the rooms tucked away in the back; filled with four poster beds and velvet curtains and enough firelight to be a safety hazard. Instead, he brought her up to the bar, catching the attention of its immaculately suited (and masked) tender with a wave of his finger. The movement distracted her while he ordered Merlin-even-knew what. She found herself watching the way his fingers curled and wrist turned with each gesture made, his palms visibly calloused - perhaps he had seen his fair share of combat, too - and the backs of his knuckles covered in freckles.

She had to wonder what constellations might be found if she dared to uncover the rest of him.

A glint of gold caught the light, mercifully returning her attention on the smiling eyes of the man who had taken to slipping a glass of red wine between her fingers.

“Shall we toast?” He asked, tilting his chin up in the direction of the raised goblet.

“What are we toasting to?”

“To…” his lips pursed thoughtfully. (Another startlingly distracting body part.) How pink and supple they looked, and how good they would taste when stained with burgundy…

“Liberation.“

Fitting, indeed.

“Santé.” She touched her chalice to his without breaking the meeting of their eyes.

“Slainte.”

The cloying bitterness of Merlot coated her tongue, filling her stomach with warmth - a taste she hadn’t encountered for years. One she missed dearly.

“How’d you know I’d like Merlot?” She licked wine from her bottom lip.

He spoke at the same time; thick brows arched high. “You’re French?”

They laughed, the sounds winding together into a hypnotic sort of harmony.

“You first.” He inclined his head.

“Perhaps. Or perhaps I’m simply fluent in the language.” She couldn’t give away any secrets, not even the place of her birth.

“That accent was flawless. Nobody but a native could articulate like that.”

She shook her head coyly, though not without amusement.

“Fine.” A sigh that seemed almost long-suffering stirred the smoke coiling around them. “I prefer my women with a bit of mystery, anyway. As for your question, darling…”

Oh, he was a rogue through and through. His eyes greedily swept over every inch of her gown to settle on the curves and shapes he seemed to appreciate most before he even deigned to finish.

“It’s… bold. Much like you, if you don’t think me too audacious for saying so.”

He paused to take another sip, savoring the act of licking his lips as she had moments ago, and almost smugly noting her obvious interest. “And I’ve obviously noticed you enjoy the color red, even if that part’s a bit on the nose.”

“You could say that.” Her heart fluttered traitorously into her throat. His undivided and enthusiastic attention was not only a welcome surprise, but a conflicting one. It wouldn’t do to fall for a masked man - in the end, they could never truly know each other beyond the four walls that brought them together.

Reverie. A dream - that’s all. You’ll wake up in the morning.

She straightened her shoulders, resolved and refortified. “And do you? Enjoy the color, that is?”

Her voice was low, only audible due to the minute distance between them, the man tilting his head down towards her as one finger grazed the dip of her neckline.

“What’s not to love?” He mused. “Red represents… vitality. Danger. Passion…”

Her skin prickled in the wake of the trail he drew from collar to shoulder and down her arm, and when it found her free hand, their fingers threaded together with such ease that they could have done it a thousand times before.

He could hear her heart, couldn’t he? With that amount of surety behind his stare, there was no doubt she was being read like an open book.

“That’s why we keep coming back here, isn’t it?” He was near enough now that every word was felt as a cloud of heat gracing her wine-flushed cheeks.

“Because we relish danger, and need passion like air. We all come to feel… alive.”

“Hmm. It’s almost as if you prepared that line beforehand.” She laughed.

His was such a beautiful sound, bubbling like champagne and leaving her with a warm feeling as if she’d tasted it herself.

“Let’s say I did… is it working?”

”Absolutely.”

Whatever spell had allowed them to maintain a sense of decorum shattered after that confirmation, which said so much more than was spoken aloud. The look exchanged between them was another conversation in itself; a volley of traded questions and answers that sent pure lightning skittering up her spine.

“Come with me.” He said abruptly (though not without a dutiful incline of his head; dark hair shining with veins of red in the candlelight) before tugging her away from the bar, where their drinks were hastily abandoned.

It seemed he was just as content to curse restraint, pulling her along with such haste that she tripped on her skirts (more than once) - evidently forgetting his longer legs and her tall heels as she bumped into a distracted patron that was left with a spilled drink, a scowl, and a breathless apology she didn’t quite mean.

They paused at the mouth of the corridor tucked in the back. It was lined with nothing but identical doors of deepest mahogany: some tightly shut, some cracked, and others yet wide open.

The meaning behind each was simple enough: shut meant “do not disturb”, cracked meant “listen or join, if you dare”, and wide open meant “vacant”. The wizard gave her a boyish grin as they all but stumbled to a stop in front of one that remained ajar and beckoned with soft golden light from the candles within.

“What are you waiting for?” She panted.

Without waiting on so much as a blink, her hand fisted in the crisp white of his button down, guiding him through the threshold before the slam of wood against the frame echoed in the empty chamber.

“A witch who knows what she wants, I see.” He chuckled, his hands needing no invitation to wind around her waist until their bodies molded at each curve.

“Well, you’ve been taunting me for a while, haven’t you?”

She took advantage of her hold on his clothes, forgoing the ease of simply waving her wand when she could take the opportunity to feel every inch of skin she revealed by releasing the buttons on his shirt.

Freckled - just as she’d suspected, and with a neat nest of dark hair over the swell of his pectorals that her palms begged to rest on.

“Wait, wait.” He huffed, hands coming to halt hers before they had time to slide the heavy coat from his shoulders.

“No - not wait as in stop -“ he’d seen the crease between her brows. “Wait, as in… slow down.”

”You seemed rather impatient a minute ago when you were dragging me through the place.” She said wryly.

“Impatient to get you alone, yes.” His knuckle grazed her cheek gently, reverently studying what little of her face he was able to see.

“But…” It was as transient as a ghost, at first. A phantom of touch over the swell of her lip, and then firmer as his thumb outlined the shape. “I’d very much like to kiss you first. May I?”

That he even asked such a question - let alone made his intentions to savor the night clear - was enough to poke another hole in her notions of a one-night affair. What if she couldn’t stand to never have this man again when it was over?

Well… there was always the luxury of dreams.

“Yes, of course.” She whispered.

She’d been right earlier - the taste of wine clung to the corners of his mouth, somehow even sweeter when combined with a hint of peppermint cooling the sharp breath he took the moment their lips fit together effortlessly. Her tongue sought to part them in search of the buzz that the alcohol couldn’t take credit for; finding his and groaning with delight as he melted into her.

A soft tug on her scalp announced the presence of his fingers as they threaded through strands of hair with the sole purpose of eliminating any and all space between them. Eagerly he rolled their tongues together, smearing the red painted on her lips across his chin.

They only paused to share a breath that left her dizzy. The sight of his skin stained with rouge was more beautiful than any art piece hanging on the tapestried walls - and there would be more colors adorning it by the end of the night, if she had anything to say about it.

“Now…” The brunet exhaled when they broke apart, lips brushing with each word. “Now, you can take off my clothes.”

No need to tell her twice.

His vest slumped to the floor, giving her leave to continue her work on that long trail of buttons ending at the waist of his trousers. Before long it, too, was little more than a rag at their feet. When she was privy to every square inch of his bare torso, her hands took liberties to caress the panes of his chest, marveling without shame.

“If you’ll allow me the honor, I’d like to even the score.” His voice was near a husk as he watched her intently.

No complaints arose (alright, perhaps one — when he spun her around; effectively depriving her of the ability to keep touching him) as the skilled wizard sought the eye hooks at the back of her bodice, dexterous fingers releasing each one with a snap that seemed to echo. All the while his mouth found her skin - tongue laving over her throat, teeth nipping where it met her shoulder to plant a bloom of deepest red.

“Mmm… keep doing that.” She hummed appreciatively, head lolling to the side.

“You don’t mind if I leave you a few reminders to find in the morning?” He chuckled. By then, he’d succeeded in freeing her of the constricting garment, tossing it to the carpet by the fire before he started to untie her skirt.

“Not at all.”

”Good,” another kiss, just below her ear this time. “Because I want to be able to see that it’s still there next time we meet.”

If he wasn’t careful, she’d start to think he already had plans to do this again.

She didn’t wait for him to move her this time; taking control back once she was only clad in her underthings by going for the buttons holding up his bottoms. Oddly enough, her fingers took on a tremulous quality - one she’d rarely (if ever) experienced in an intimate moment since her very first.

He seemed to adopt a similar growing impatience that made him forgo the back and forth to slip the sleeves of her chemise down, guiding the garment over her figure.

”Gods, you’re a vision.” He groaned and reached for the curve of her waist, feeling out the shape only to travel upwards until he could cup a breast in each hand, thumbs teasing the peaks hardened against the air.

Even as she shivered when he leaned down to bestow a kiss on either one, she managed to get him out of everything but the long undergarments concealing that which she craved most. But when she went for them, he stopped her yet again - catching her wrist only to sweep the startled witch into his awaiting arms with a self-satisfied grin.

The mattress depressed beneath her weight, bouncing back as she blew away a stray lock of hair to look up at him. Watching the way his arms — corded with thick veins — flexed and his eyes narrowed. With barely concealed impatience he climbed onto the bed and wrapped his hands around her thighs.

“Quite the man handler, you are.” She giggled once he’d yanked her towards him so her legs fell open on either side of his knees.

That drew the attention of his wandering eyes.

“Somehow I doubt that was a complaint.” His mouth quirked in earnest. ”Nor do I envision you’ll have any after I’m done with you.”

He began to toy with the idea of removing her drawers - the last thing preventing her from losing her mind, potentially - by sliding his fingers beneath their frilly hems, nails prickling the skin of her thighs as they scratched up and down in a taunting rhythm.

“Tell me something about yourself,” he whispered out of the clear blue. “Anything. The only things I know about you are that you’re French, love the color red and Merlot… oh, and you’re a much better dancer than me.”

Sharing random factoids wasn’t necessarily the foreplay she’d been expecting, nor the kind she was used to, but she couldn’t say she minded when his voice alone made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

“Uhmm…” She had to think of something vague; a throwaway tidbit useless to anyone else.

While he watched, waited with wide and patient eyes, she sighed, “I can’t go a day without coffee. Never quite developed a taste for tea. And I drink it with three sugars.”

He blinked twice in quick succession. All the while he had yet to stop playing with the edges of her knickers, though he gradually let one hand inch up her covered thigh, as if testing the waters. But, she wondered… what was there to test? He had been so self-assured outside this room, yet now there was a hint of nerves beneath the cool exterior.

”So dark and sweet is the way you like it, huh?” He simply couldn’t help himself, it seemed.

The smirk she donned was enough of an answer. “Tell me something about you, then.”

”Me… well.” His mouth quirked before he shifted on the bed - lying on his stomach to greet the center of hers with a kiss. Then each of her hips with a gentle nip.“I love to read. Anything I can get my hands on, really. Fiction, nonfiction, magical and otherwise… I’ll devour it all.”

A slight pinch followed by the softness of his lips alerted her to another cluster of marks he began working onto her lower stomach, covering as much ground as he could on her thighs. His breath, heating her core as it came in little pants, was beginning to become a significant problem - one made her feel warm and heavy. Like sinking into a hot bath, if it were near-boiling.

“In fact, if I had to pick my favorite place in the world, it would be sitting in front of a fire with a good book.” His fingertip ever so slightly grazed the inner curve of her thigh.

“A man of charm and intelligence…how ever did I get so fortunate?”

He chuckled at her teasing lilt, the sound tickling her sensitive skin while he began to make way for the kisses left up the length of her thigh — bunching her drawers up until his fingers just brushed the soft nest of curls at the top.

“Although right now I have to say; I’m very much enjoying this spot, as well.” The wicked man smiled up at her.

“Well, if you’re waiting for an invitation, you’ve got it.” She tried to sound casual about it all, but truth be told, she was fighting every urge to rip his underwear off and throw him onto the bed herself like some sort of madwoman.

He might make her into one before the sun rose, anyway.

She was sure of it when he began pressing tortuously chaste kisses to her other thigh, and when his fingers slid lower to deliver a gentle stroke down the center of her slit had her shuddering with anticipation.

“And how long have you been this wet, love?” His deep rasp was muffled by the fabric of her underwear.

She chuckled. “Hmm…since the moment you took me to the bar, probably.”

He sat up with a distinctly prideful grin, slipping the soft cotton undergarments down her legs, his eyes alight as he settled back between them.

She could almost see the words hanging off his lips as he gazed up at her (that sight was enough to make her hips shift needily), but for whatever reason, they weren’t cut loose. No, he busied his mouth with far more important pursuits. After pausing briefly to indulge his eyes in an appreciative sweep of her naked body, he at last found the perfect spot to make her whine (and on the first try, too) with naught but a languorous sweep of his tongue.

It wasn’t nearly enough to quell any bit of the ache driving her into inevitable madness, but he showed her mercy by flattening the wet muscle against her folds and following a slow trail up until the tip of it lightly flicked her clit.

“Oh, please do that again.” She pleaded (had she been reduced to begging so quickly?), one hand inching towards her breast — seeking any more stimulation she could find — as the other slid through the silken waves atop his head.

He obliged. But with more pressure this time, and so, so slow, observing her reaction as if she were the most scintillating thing he’d ever laid eyes on.

It really was something about those eyes. With such unfairly long lashes that fanned over russet cheeks, and the way the candlelight flickering off the walls would touch them just so to light the near-black irises with a rich gold. His lips stretched against her skin, noticing her attention and giving her an approving hum that was met by the push of her hips towards his tongue.

“Mmmph —“ he grunted when her thighs pressed to his ears, entrapping him between them greedily. “Like that, do you?”

Her answering moan earned another grin followed by a gentle suck on her clit that only brought out another breathy, low sound.

“But gods, you taste so sweet…decadent, just as I’d said.”

Merlin, his voice…the way it rumbled with barely contained desire and pulled obscenities from her own throat was sinful.

Drowning in sin didn’t seem such a bad way to go, at present.

The possibility became reality once he re-added a finger to the mix; curling it beneath his tongue to trace the folds before sinking gradually into her awaiting heat.

“Oh, f—“

One of her own fingers rolled her nipple atop the breast she’d been playing with as she shivered. If he kept this up much longer, she would surely come undone right on his tongue; wrapped around that rough digit gliding in and out of her as it stroked her upper walls.

But that didn’t feel right. As wonderful as the softness of his lips enclosing around her clit was, she couldn’t imagine a proper substitute for the stretch his cock would provide instead.

“I need…” she had been about to voice her request when the tip of his tongue prodded her entrance. Both of her hands now gripped his auburn waves like they were keeping her tethered to earth, legs trembling with the effort to fight off the warmth swelling in her core.

“Need what?” He took an eager breath in, only to release it through pursed lips over the throbbing bud he seemed to adore. “I want to hear it loud and clear, lovely.”

An impatient groan parted her bitten lips. “I need more. I need you inside me when you make me come.”

“There you go. Gods, you sound so pretty when you ask to be fucked…” It took one last excruciating pump of his finger inside of her before he withdrew to push himself up onto his knees with a mess of her own making shining on his clean-shaven chin.

“First, though…” The finger coated with her fluids was sucked between his reddened lips. When it was pulled out with a slick, slow draw, he crooked it in her direction. “Come here. I want you to get a little taste, too.”

Don’t mind if I do.

On trembling hands she raised herself up on wobbly knees pressed into the soft mattress, sucking in a breath when she curled her fingers over the band of his underwear and waited for approval.

“Don’t be shy.” He coaxed gently.

It was difficult not to be at least a little intimidated by the proud shape outlined through his bottoms (and leaving a very telltale wet spot in the light fabric), but she pushed past it with a firm swallow.

Her breath whooshed out without prompting as she rolled them over his hips and the rather shapely swell of his backside. And, as it had before taking a sip of the wine he’d offered earlier, her mouth watered when she was rewarded with the view of his cock as it twitched at the first rush of air over the leaking tip.

Personally, she wasn’t much of an artist. She preferred a wand to a brush and blood over red paint, but there was something about him that begged to be immortalized on canvas. How satisfying it would be to perfectly capture the artful tapering from wide shoulders to a slimmer waist, or even to carve from marble the thickness of his thighs.

She doubted it would do him justice.

“Are you going to paint a portrait?” He teased, as if ripping those very thoughts from her mind.

“Just might. And could you blame me?” She answered with a bite of her lip. But there was too much bloody talk going on. In the spirit of action, she lowered her mouth to meet the curve of his hipbone and began marking a wet trail downwards.

The light scrape of his fingernail over her cheekbone made her lashes flutter as he tucked a wayward lock of hair behind her ear, his breathing growing more labored when her palm slipped over the softness of his length — only to fold her fingers around it with gentle pressure. By the time she brushed her lips over the head — then her tongue to collect the salty fluid now leaking down the shaft — he was keening under his breath.

“Mmhmm…keep going, please.” he murmured.

As if she would stop. On the contrary, she wrapped her mouth around him, making a circle around the ridge of his cockhead with the tip of her tongue only to trace the length of him by following a thick vein. He was thick — stretching her lips wide when she took him in inch by inch, allowing him to prod the back of her throat to moisten her mouth.

“Just like that. You’re doing brilliantly, love; just perfect.” He said breathlessly, scraping her hair back into a haphazard updo with a broad hand.

Spurred on by the praise, she hollowed her cheeks for a better seal, dragged her mouth along his shaft until he rewarded her with a broken, guttural moan. She kept it up until finding a rhythm that his hips desperately pushed forward to match.

“I won’t… fuck, you’re going to make me embarrass myself…” he chuckled weakly.

Well that wouldn’t do at all. As much as the idea of swallowing his seed enticed her, there was a far better option in her mind. Which is why, despite his immediate protest in the form of a low grunt and a harsh tug on her hair, she gave one last slow lick before pulling away.

The increasingly flustered wizard tracked her movements with lust-glazed eyes. “I was hoping to drag this out, but I think you’re proper ready for me, aren’t you?”

Her enthusiastic nod spurred a laugh as he unfolded her legs from beneath her, wasting no time in hooking one around his hips and propping the other up to rest on his shoulder. The view was… magnificent, and he seemed to agree as his tongue darted out to taste her essence on his lips.

She’d expected another round of teasing. How relieved she was when instead, the blunt head of his cock parted her readily, sweeping through the slickness there with a stuttered, needy groan.

And just when she was about to insist —

A gasp tore through her dry throat as he pushed himself inside of her with little resistance. She was suddenly so full; though it wasn’t until he was fully sheathed that she let out a long, breathy sigh.

“Good? You alright?” He murmured, the rough pads of his fingers rubbing circles on the inside of her thighs. When she nodded, his mouth curled into a smile that she felt amidst the kisses left along her calf.

Oh, it was more than good — by the time he dragged his length out just to drive himself forward again, she was positively keening for more; her hands blindly reaching for some part to grab and managing to splay them flat on his lower back to force him deeper. He could hardly fight her, and it seemed like he didn’t want to anyway. The wizard’s eyes had grown hooded with lust, those sumptuous lips parting to make way for a moan that sent a shock down her spine. Her own eyes fluttered shut as he began to glide in and out of her in languid, practiced thrusts.

“Mm mmm,” he hummed chastingly. “I’d like to see those pretty eyes.”

His boldness — so wildly sexy.

Looking at him was almost a taboo in itself. Nine times out of then, her trysts had involved a lot of pleasure-filled sounds and heavy breathing; but conversation? Not so much. Some people didn’t even like to be kissed — and others found a prolonged gaze entirely too intimate.

This man didn’t just fuck. It was a different experience altogether, and it was bloody incredible. So, like the hopelessly besotted witch she was, she met his gaze and responded with a wanton moan at the sight of his head thrown back in pleasure while his hips made wide circles against hers.

“Gods, you fit like a glove,” his body shuddered with a stuttered exhale. “Feel so good…”

She canted her hips up to meet his in protest of his lazy pace, earning a broken chuckle before being rewarded with the head of his cock roughly probing her to its absolute limit.

“Godric…” she whined pathetically. “Again — right there.”

“Is Godric Gryffindor the one providing your pleasure right now?” He mocked. “No, I don’t think so.”

”Well, then tell me your name, and I’ll scream it as much as you want.”

Locks of mussed hair fell over his forehead as the man shook his head, ignoring her small pout, but soothing the disappointment by giving her something else she’d wanted.

Again, he speared himself nice and deep. And again; and again, until her nails were carving crescents into the muscle of his back and he was whispering streams of filth into her ears between husky groans. Just when she was about to warn him of her rapidly approaching release, he had to go and stop — worst of all, he dragged his length out of her.

“You must be joking,” she panted.

A wicked grin told her she was in for it, and her thighs squeezed together in anticipation as he twirled his finger midair. “Oh, we’re not done. Sit up for me, love, and turn around. That’s it… now put your hands on the headboard.”

When her fingers curled around the solid chunk of wood, the bed dipped and creaked as he came up behind her, chest to spine and fingers curling over hers.

“Make sure you’re holding on tight.” Without warning, he ripped a sharp cry from her throat by driving back into her lonely heat until his hip bones dug into her ass and she swore she could see the night sky in that very room.

“Buggering hell —“ she blurted. This new angle was sure to be the end of her, and he was well aware of it from the delighted chuckle he huffed in her ear.

”You’ve got such a mouth on you for a lady… damned if I don’t love it.” The wizard panted with pride.

He wasn’t taking it easy on her any longer. The sheer force of his thrusts was enough to rock the bed frame against the wall; the thuds as the headboard struck exposed brick likely heard by everyone in the surrounding rooms (not that she had any room to care in her sex addled brain). It was enough to wring every last coherent thought from her, rendering her a shaking, mewling mess and unable to do anything but meet each snap of his hips with her own — while holding on for dear life.

“Oh, yes…” he was on his way to leaving bruises on her hip from the force of his steadying grip, but the sparks of pain only led her to greater pleasure.

Well-attuned to the signs of her mounting release as it threatened to overwhelm her for the third time, he released her hand to reach around and find her clit, abandoning the precision and prowess from before. Those dexterous fingers worked tirelessly, and coupled with the uneven little pants warming her neck between his kisses…

“I know you’re close, love,” he shuddered. “Go on, I’ll be right behind you.”

He threw every last bit of his energy into shoving her over the edge; and as his cock prodded that spot inside of her once more, she gave in and fell apart under his hands. Every unbridled, broken sound that tumbled out as she rode through her orgasm was met with an encouraging whimper from the wizard. Just when the last bit of pleasure was wrung from her body, he pulled out with a groan, releasing ropes of warm seed over her backside and spine.

There he rested for a moment. While he caught his breath, the man’s hands traced the shape of her body, slipping in the essence coating her with a proud chuckle. “Evanesco.” he murmured, restoring her skin to its unmarred state.

“Are you…” he gulped in a lungful of sex-scented air. “Are you alright?”

“Brilliant.” She panted, letting go of the headboard to turn and rest her back against it instead. “You?”

It was an understatement, really: all that stress pounding between her temples and tension in her shoulders had disappeared. She felt spectacular.

“Never better.”

He sank back to his knees, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair as he admired her with a lazy grin. How she wished she could peel the satin from his cheeks to see that smile reach his dark eyes…

“Only wanted to make sure. You were getting quite loud.” The question seemed more taunt than anything.

Walking might prove difficult for the next couple of hours (at the least), and her hair was likely in a right state (along with her marked-up skin), but none of that mattered when the lingering rush instilled her with a rare lightness.

“Is that a complaint?”

“Not at all. I was very much enjoying the sounds you made. Means I did my job well.”

She gave him a playful eye roll, rolling onto her side with the intention of returning to the solace of his arms before she realized — pillow talk and cuddling were sort of an unspoken faux pas when it came to casual encounters. Usually, her or her partners would leave the bed before the sweat had dried on their skin, and for once the expectation felt…lonely.

It truly struck her when he cleared his throat a moment later, gingerly untangling their weakened limbs to climb out of the bed seeking the various items of clothing discarded across the room.

“Do you need anything?” He asked, eyes darting to her before he located his pants. “Water, food..? Anything.”

Though appreciative, she waved his offer away with a quiet laugh. “I’ll be just fine. Though I’m sure I’ll need a hot bath at home.”

Sitting idly in bed while he already had a foot out the door picked at her pride, and so the Auror dragged herself out of it on trembling fawn’s legs. She managed to locate her underthings and slip them on before plucking her gown up from the floor.

“Oh,” a flash of gold caught her eye, and she bent to retrieve his trousers — as well as the shiny pocket watch that had evidently fallen out while they were distracted earlier. “Here, you don’t want to lose this.”

He was dragging his shirt over his bed head when she walked over to return it. She couldn’t help but admire the piece’s subtle artistry; the metal so perfectly preserved with intricate curling ivy etched into the rim of the case. Such a unique design…

So unique that she could easily recall seeing one just like it before.

And it, too, had been monogrammed with the letter S.

If he hadn’t snatched the watch out of her hand before the shock hit, she might have dropped and broken one of the last artifacts of the Sallow family.

Merlin, the irony of her asking for his name to say it in bed when she wanted to scream it in outrage now. And of course he had the audacity to take a step towards her, to soften his wide brown eyes (how had she looked into them and not known) and adopt an innocent frown; the one he had always used before begging for forgiveness.

She took a step back in turn and fixed him with a look that could have frozen the fire in the hearth. It was enough to confirm for him exactly what conclusion she’d reached.

“Blast it all, it is you.” He breathed.

“Sebastian?”

[jessaerys]

35 mins into priscilla and like... i am holding both the dread and horror of the age difference and power imbalance and the genuine romance of the relationship at the same time and it is such a delicate pink gauze dissonance. it's doing such a good job at showing the like... ways in which it was societally permissible, despite the objections here and there from her parents. i get the feeling that (movie) elvis does indeed think that his intentions are "honorable" and he is trying to be conscious of her age and the gestures are sweet and tender, but the problem is in the pursuit in and off itself!! he treats her like a kid and an adult at the same time, subconsciously switching whenever it suits him. talk about having your cake and eating it too. the scene where they are at the casino and priscilla thinks she won and everyone's cheering and elvis has to explain the game to her and all the adults around here are like oh, boo. WOOF. that IS what it feels like, to play pretend at being older than you are when you're a teenager. stick figure violence

[utopians]

I mean s1 was deffo better than s2 but why do you say that it wasn't good? /gen

mannn honestly it would take ages to enumerate all my problems with it but these are the main ones

just a massive, massive tone problem. this show just has no clue what it wants to be and it's bad as hell as a result. the wilderness scenes in this season had some of the darkest stuff of anything in the show (eating jackie + shauna miscarriage + shauna beating lottie) and having all that next to like... misty's quirky reddit boyfriend just absolutely defanged it. the show doesn't want to commit to being either a quirky mystery/comedy or a gritty survival horror and because of that it fails to effectively be anything at all

misty's reddit boyfriend in general just sucked so bad. like what was that

the escalation from 'we're hungry' to 'let's draw cards and murder whoever gets the wrong one' occurred over the span of ONE EPISODE. one SINGLE episode without ANY NEGOTIATION. literally not one single scene of the characters even TALKING about it before it happened. what a joke. what an absolute joke. they had an entire season to build to it how'd they fuck it up this bad

this is a problem I had with the first season as well but the survival threat feels so told and not shown. like we're told all these characters are Soooo Hungry but none of them are ever actually like. fatigued. or ill. or Dying. like how the fuck is coach ben still alive man. it just makes the escalation to killing people that much more abrupt and the whole situation seem so contrived when it doesn't actually feel like they're in danger

just in general the show like. refuses to let any of its characters feel anything at all. shauna straight up killed an innocent man that she was having an affair with last season and the extent of the emotional fallout of that act is her making quirky Oh Whoopsie comments about it. like that would be an insane traumatic thing to go through and you'd think it would be the kind of thing the show would want to explore. but no. not on amc's yellowjackets

on that same topic. shauna beating lottie had weirdly little emotional fallout. like ik they didn't like each other but shauna almost beat lottie to death with her hands and seemed just like. kind of sad and apologetic afterwards. like you'd think that such an act would have some sort of extreme ramifications for her relationship with the group and her own emotional state but nah

in the same vein: this season did adult taissa SO dirty. all the little plot threads that made her story difficult and compelling last season have completely been dropped -- her wife and son were literally written out like 4 episodes in and we don't see any of the emotional complexity of her leaving behind those relationships. additionally the last season ended with her being elected senator (sth that could cause a lot of conflict and drama bc of the increased responsibility on her shoulders + surveillance and scrutiny of her life) and it literally just. never comes up again? like her wife is in a coma and her son is just left fully parentless and she walks away from her job as a US STATE SENATOR and not only are there no consequences she also just literally does not seem to care. I feel like the writers just had no clue what they wanted to do with her and so they just gave her... nothing. no conflict no emotions just nothinggggg

okay they did give her one thing. they gave her an evil alter ego. which is mad corny imo. last season it was weird and ambiguous enough that I enjoyed it but this season it was just so literal and on the nose and I did not enjoy it One Bit

similar to the cards thing lottie deciding that they needed to kill one of them at the end was so damn abrupt and stupid. like literally so pointless and out of nowhere

natalie's death was so silly and contrived that it actually made me laugh

adult van is not butch enough ‼️‼️‼️‼️

[territorialufo]

i give in can you tell me about that little iphone binch

YESS YES I CAN TELL YOU ABOUT THE LITTLE IPHONE BINCH !!!!!!!!! this is literally just rambling im so sorry. There's a lot of text blocks in the beginning but the end has more pics and silly stuff 

Also ii spoilers but its hard to talk abt mephone without getting into the recent stuff so whatever 

Under cut cause this got. Really long. whoops

Context/background of II/mephone 

“Inanimate Insanity” (ii) is a web animation originally released in 2011, considered the second “major” object show after BFDI. btw an object show is a genre of web series that features anthropomorphized inanimate objects competing for some kind of prize. I am NOT the right person to ask about object shows cause the only one ive ever been invested in to this extent is ii and theres SOO many other ones out there LMAO. Ok sorry i sounded like a bot for a second there JUST PROVIDING CONTEXT!! Inanimate Insanity’s structure is kind of interesting because it starts out as a silly comedy in s1 and most of s2 before descending into a really drama heavy storyline, with tension caused both by mephone’s past haunting him and conflict between the contestants themselves. Then suddenly s2 goes on a four year hiatus and animationepic (main youtube channel) launches s3 with new characters and artstyle, seemingly completely ditching the plot they had in s2??? IM NOT GONNA GET TOO INTO ALL THAT but it all works out timeline wise so its chill the tone switch was just rly funny at the time 😭😭😭 

ANYWAYYYY mephone. Mephone4. Mister phone. Four. The one and only four. MeFon! MePhone4 (parodying the IPhone4) is the de facto host of the in-universe reality show “Inanimate Insanity”!! As the host, he has speaking lines in nearly every episode which is super awesome and epic for mephone4 enjoyers (me). His initial vibe was inspired by Chris McClean from TDI, and was even voiced by Christian Potenza in the first episode before being switched to Mark Katz, who is the father of the creator of II, Adam Katz, which is also pretty cool i think. Since Mark Katz is a grown ass dude, mephone just has. The same voice for like the entire series SHDHF everyone else’s voices are changing and stuff as the creators got older but mephone just sounds like a middle aged man for all of it 😭I love it tho this isn’t a criticism!!! As the years go by it gets more and more expressive :) s1 is. rough. considering it was made by a bunch of kids, its very much a product of its time lol

Lore/character 

Ok lore time cause the thing w mephone is most of his backstory was kind of just hinted at (or implied with the existence of Apple irl). Like in s1 there was the introduction of mephone4s and 5, but otherwise, not much (as far as I can remember. I watched s1 when i was a kid so its been a while lmao). Then there was s2e8 where the contestants go to headquarters and we meet steve cobs (yes, like steve jobs), who’s his creator and dad?? Again some hints are dropped but nothing concrete about their relationship. And then BOOM. SEASON 2 EPISODE 13. “Mine Your Own Business” was my fave II ep for sooo long (idk what my fave is now tbh) cause THE MEPHONE LORE DROP??????? IT WAS CRAZY and also the ending of the episode with fan’s monologue and the soundtrack “shell of a fan” is my fave in the show ANYWAY ANYWAY so begins the remembering of the Horrors. 

He was “born” in Meeple Headquarters, and PLEASE KNOW THAT HE WAS BORN AN ADULT OH MY GOD there are some clowns who think hes literally 14 years old bc thats how old the iphone4 is USE YOUR BRAIN USE YOUR BRAIN AAAAA right so he basically knows nothing about the world, confined to headquarters until his eventual escape. Cobs and mephone have a pretty interesting dynamic, where cobs has most of the power. The way Cobs praises mephone but later shoots him down is so AUHGHGHGH. It’s an oppressive environment he's living in, only expected to do assigned tasks and shamed for any genuine interests, while having the pressure to impress his creator on his shoulders at the threat of being discarded. Mephone grows to hate and fear cobs, but at the same time, cobs is the only person whos known him since the beginning.

The way literally every problem mephone has can be traced back to his origin/how he was raised is so crazy. Like even before the s2e16 twist, it was extremely prevalent??? There are a bunch of analysis posts that explain it way better than I could but MANNNN for a show that the crew started when they were literally 13, they were able to tie things together pretty well, i think! 

It’s been pretty obvious since s2e13 that hosting Inanimate Insanity is just one big escapist fantasy for mephone, one where he is free to do as he pleases while ignoring all the trauma he sustained in “childhood”. Cause it’s implied he escaped Meeple, deleted his bad memories, and then started s1 right after. I mean, it makes sense, since outside of the cold, mechanical nature of Meeple, the only warmth he got was from his enjoyment of reality tv shows. If s1 is an amnesia mephone, and s2 is a spiraling mephone, then I’d describe s3 as “escapism but worse” mephone. It doesn’t ever get as gloomy as s2, but s3 has steady background reminders of “hey guys remember mephone is running away from all his problems right now!!” until it all comes to head in the finale. Some ppl dislike how mephone-centric the show’s gotten, but honestly idgaf more for me

I do want to say that he is very flawed, though. Esp near the beginning, he is really fucking rude and does not respect his contestants at all and frequently belittles them and puts them in mortal danger. he tends to view them and everything that happens to them through the lens of “its just part of the show!!!!”. He tends to brush off everyone’s problems, no matter how serious, even when he’s the one that caused them.

His reality show host personality is all a very big facade to cover up how he feels about the past (thus further submerging him in the fantasy of Inanimate Insanity). Like previous users have mentioned, this is likely due to the fact that he had no one to learn HOW to be empathetic/kind from besides reality television (which is known to be exaggerated for drama) and cobs (who is his abuser) But I famously do enjoy characters who are kind of dickheads, the confidence being a mask is like a tasty bonus to me.

The dichotomy between his arrogant host exterior and paranoid/anxious interior is really interesting and fun to watch. Compared to his relatively sweet/naive beginning personality, it’s wild to see just how much he’s changed since then because of everything that’s happened.  His relationships with the rest of the characters is also interesting, cause despite being their host, he isn’t very close with a lot of them. Other than maybe Bot, who I believe he feels kinship with since they're both robots who freed themselves from the expectations of others. Same with Mepad, since they’re both from Meeple. 

He’s a robot, but in an emotional/psychological sense, is basically a normal person/object (person is synonymous with object in this case). He feels like a person despite being an AI. which makes cobs a lot worse imo, he mistreats all his creations, but at least the other newer mephones are barely “feeling” at all, unlike 4.

Basically, 

Cobs: i have engineered a machine that is functionally a person

Everyone: you fucked up a perfectly good phone is what you did. Look at him. He’s got ptsd. 

Not to get too into ii16/17, but they basically recontextualized the entire series and made what we initially thought about mephone’s escapist tendencies and origins a million times worse. Bro was so tormented he subconsciously made his OCs come to life 😭😭😭all while projecting all his issues onto them??? Psychologically sound individual activities. Additionally, the way he was created is also. Terrible. Cobs basically invaded an alien planet, kidnapped an alien kid, and then presumably used its energy to create mephone4. Outer space colonization? In MY object show? yes!

Ok now im just gonna talk about random stuff i like about him  

His powers are so cool.,.,,. Esp as a foil to cobs/mephonex, who could represent destruction, he represents creation with his generation ability. Also something abt using his powers for non violent reasons when his creation was built upon violence uhh idk. And I think the screen turning green and the sound effect is very satisfying dlsjkfg. Oh and the fact that he canonically had to practice to get better at it? In the flashbacks he’s shown having trouble generating even a simple tree, and now he can make pretty much anything with minimal effort. 

Also MeLife, which allows him to bring contestants back from the dead, is an ability unique to him, which is super cool!!

He can create portals as well and this is never explained. He can just suddenly do it KDLJFGH this kind of renders Mepad’s teleportation ability useless but it's still fun. 

I like when he uses his face as an actual screen :)

Something something robot related stuff

He is not waterproof and will malfunction or even die when wet

His speaking function can be disabled by other people

Glitches while talking sometimes!! Delightful 

Something that gets overlooked often I think is the s1 finale, where mephone4S (mephone4's brother) basically killed himself to save mephone4 by downgrading his own OS. Technically, mephone isn’t even in his original body anymore, he’s inhabiting his brother’s. Fun!

this is unrelated but he got shot in the face with a gun once. there havent been any guns since unfortunately

Get yoinked idiot 

In conclusion, 

I heart him and im sad ii is gonna be ending soon thx for reading

[askbensolo]

Dark question, but have you ever hurt yourself intentionally (ranging anywhere from the too-common starving habit to other, more painful things)?

Well good evening to you too, anon! Geez!

Nah, nah, you can ask me that, it’s fine. We’re friends. You’ve seen me at my worst. Or…real close to it, anyway.

I mean…there’s like a range of self-harming behaviors, right? I think the way I took such awful care of myself between the ages of 15-17 counts. I can remember more than a few times that that stupid kid stayed awake all night on his holopad for reasons unknown, skipped dinner because he just “never got around to it,” spent whole Saturdays in bed without moving a muscle—

Wait, no, bad adult Ben. Remember what your therapist said about not beating up little Ben. That boy was way in over his head and unequipped to handle it and I should be nicer to him.

Anyway…I know what you’re really getting at with this question, and…no, I never did anything like that in the classical sense. I think the behaviors you’re thinking of are more common among adolescent girls—at least, that’s what I’ve heard. (Oh my Force. New fear unlocked. I should check in with my sister more often.)

But…wait, no, actually…yes, now that I think about it…no, yeah, I actually…I actually did do some things like that. But…only during my relationship with Snoke, which was a chapter of my life so nightmarish that I barely even register it as part of reality.

It’s hard to remember. Some of it I’ve suppressed. Some of it, I think he’s intentionally deleted from my memory. But…there were times when he told me I needed discipline, and there were times when I felt I had to punish myself… There were times when we’d do these…“exercises,” he called them, with the idea that enduring pain would strengthen me against it—at least, that’s what he always told me; who knows what reasons he may have had that he kept to himself—he’d put me through horrors…make me do things to myself…and then he would heal me afterward and praise me—I can hear his voice, the way he’d croon “good work, boy,” and I would curl up in his arms and cling to his robes and cry—but…then there were the times when I felt terrible about myself, and I’d do things to myself—the same kinds of things—but suddenly because he hadn’t told me to do them, that made it wrong, and then it wasn’t “good job,” it was “weak and simpering fool, don’t you know what you’re worth to me, you would dare damage my prize?” and I’d be crying and shaking like “sorry Leader sorry sorry sorry I’m so sorry please don’t hate me”—and then he drew himself up to his full height and fixed me with those icy blue eyes and said, “Clearly, you are a glutton for pain, child. Did I not promise to give you everything you wanted? Well, then, I will grant you what you so obviously wish”—and then he stretched his hand out toward me, my skin knitting itself back up together like magic, as I felt myself being hoisted up into the air—and then—and then—agony so white-hot it made me forget my own name—“Is it enough for you, Ben Solo?” in the tenderest, gentlest voice, like a sweet old grandfather offering candy to a little boy, and I was like, Ben Solo, Ben Solo, who is he, why does that name sound so familiar—and then the next thing I knew it was over and he was holding me, comforting me, and he whispered in my ear “excellent work,” and I was so confused, it didn’t make any sense, but I was too relieved and exhausted to question anything, so I just laid my head in the crook of his arm, and closed my eyes, and let him stroke my hair…

…Dang, that’s a new one. I’d…actually forgotten about that. That really happened? Yikes.

OOP WAIT my brain is shutting down suddenly. Freaking out. Abort abort abort! I’m not sixteen I’m not sixteen I’m twenty-three and Snoke is gone and I graduated college and live on Naboo and can overhead-press my bodyweight and I have an almost-sorta-girlfriend and an unfulfilling but decently-paying job and some really cool holonet friends…okay. Okay. Okay. I’m me. I made it. It’s okay.

So…uh…wow. All right. Gonna chuck that cute little memory back into the abyss. Thanks for that, Snokey-poo.

Yeah…I had a lot happen to me back in the day, but…that stuff’s all in the past now. And I prefer to let the past die.

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

chapter 5

taglist: @illiana-mystery, @iobsessoverfictionalmen

AN: this started getting longer than I wanted so the next part will introduce Malcolm McDowell properly and be the actual con. Warnings: comic con, talk of horror movies, swearing, confusion on feelings, Loki's scars

Rushing around, I double checked my backpack and nearly ran into Loki as I ran back into my room for my portable charger.

"Sorry!" I yelled and shoved it into a pocket in my bag. Loki stood in my living room watching me with a smile on his face. "Ok. I think that's everything. Ready?" He nodded and opened the door. "Oh shit! Wait a sec. I need the passes." I ran into my kitchen and grabbed them from where they hung on the fridge handle.

"Got them?" Loki asked when I reappeared in front of him. Nodding, I handed him one and threw the other around my neck.

“Alright. Let's go." Loki stifled a yawn as we made our way to my car. "So first off, something you need to know about Malcolm. He is a little protective of me. Since day one. Gods knows how many years ago now. He will question you and he will try to intimidate you." I looked over at Loki as I drove us to the convention center. "Especially if you try to hold my hand." Loki blushed and looked out the window at the mention of our awkward stage. We weren't dating per se but we also had moved past just being friends at this point as well. “Malcolm can and will kiss my cheek. Don’t question it. He will get pissy with people especially if they treat me like shit. I have candy in my bag for him. Don’t touch it unless I ask you to get it. Uhm…” I trailed off as I pulled up to the parking garage.

“He sounds delightful. Remind me why we’re doing this?” Loki grimaced. I chuckled and smiled over at him.

“Because it’s Malcolm McDowell. The man was my first… client technically. There’s a lot of history with us and he looked out for me. I owe him a bit. Plus it’s easy money.” I loved over at him as I grabbed my ticket from the kiosk and laughed softly. “Well for me it is. I have no clue what he’s having you do.” Loki rolled his eyes and I laughed as I pulled into a spot. Shutting off the car, I grabbed lokis hand. “Listen just get through today and you don’t have to come back tomorrow. I’m going to do the whole weekend. Malcolm is like my con father. And he’s the best adult figure I have in my life. So I’m going to spend as much time with him as I can.”

“I understand.” Loki murmured. I nodded and got out of the car. He trailed behind me as I got us through security and over to check in.

“Hi Karla.” I greeted the older lady sitting at the checkin table. “How you been?” She stood up and hugged me. I blushed a little as she pulled away only to brush some hair out of my face.

“Good. You?” I nodded and smiled at her. “Good. Malcolm ask you to work?” I nodded again and showed her the text.

“He got my friend a job too.” I pointed over my shoulder at Loki. “He here yet?” Karla checked us in and handed me the packet with Malcolm’s itinerary.

“Still up in his room as far as I know. Agent was in the hall earlier but I don’t think he’s sticking around for the whole weekend.” I nodded and flipped through. “He’s got a panel today at three and a photo op at five.” I nodded and grabbed a pen off the desk to mark what I was being told. “There’s a photo op at noon tomorrow and one at ten Sunday.”

“Sounds good.” I nodded before flipping the file shit. “We’re gonna go set up. If you see him or the agent, let them know we’re walking around.” I gave her one last hug before entering the hall. Smiling to myself, I started to walk around the room.

“So where’s the table?” Loki asked as we passed another table that wasn’t ours.

“That’s what I’m looking for.” I explained. “This also lets me see who is where. Guests will ask where someone is and it’s best to help them out.” Loki nodded next to me. “Basically being nice and doing something you would want done for you if you were paying to be here. Some handlers aren’t that way and it makes guests think we all are rude. I try to be the exception.” I passed another table and tapped it. “Here we are.” I walked behind the table and dropped my bag. Flipping the table skirt down, I grabbed the banner and unfolded it. Loki watched as I tilted a chair back to find the tape. “Alright tall person. I need you for this.” I handed him the banner and showed him where to hold it. “I’m gonna grab the chair and tape it. Just hold it up and make sure it’s level.” Loki nodded and held the banner up. As I put the last bit of tape on, I jumped off the chair and stepped back.

“Looks good.” Loki mused. I nodded in agreement. “Now what?” Ducking down behind the table, I pulled out a black file folder. Smiling, I held it up. Loki stared at it in confusion.

"This has a bunch of 8 by 10 pictures that guests can pick for Malcolm to sign. We lay out the ones that tend to be incredibly popular." I shrugged as I opened it up. "I tend to do a lot of Clockwork Orange and Halloween. His agent isn't here to tell me otherwise so I just do it. Tomorrow morning there will be more from when his agent comes down to check on the table. If he comes." Thumbing through the pictures, I grabbed sets of ten and started laying them out.

"What's in this bag under here?" Loki asked as he pulled it out. I looked up and nodded when he went to open it. "DVDs? Scripts?" I nodded again and grabbed the bag of markers from the back of the file folder.

"Yeah. He sells copies of Clockwork Orange and whatnot as well. Scripts to that and a couple other movies. They're a big hit." I shrugged as Loki started to put them out. I tested each marker and threw out the ones that didn't work. Reaching into my bag, I pulled out replacements. Finally finishing my end of the table, I looked over at Loki who was contemplating what else to pull out of the bag. Grabbing the tape, I picked up the sign with Malcolm's prices. I tapped it to the wall at the end of the table. Grabbing a sheet of paper out of my bag, I copied everything on the sheet before taping it over at the head of the table. Loki tossed the bag back under the table and I stepped back with my hands on my hips.

“That all?” I nodded and turned around to start walking around the con. “Where are you going? Don’t we have to wait for Malcolm?”

“Nope. Malcolm will either call or text me when he’s on his way down. Until then, we get to walk the floor.” I smiled over my shoulder at him as we started walking. “See what they’re selling and get prices. Plus it helps to see where everyone else is.” Loki fell into step next to me and I reached over to hold his hand. Loki blushed as he squeezed my hand and tugged me closer. “Is there anyone here you would want to meet?” I asked as I kept an eye on the tables lining the walls of the con. Loki shrugged.

“I haven’t kept up with modern movies. I prefer the older ones.” Loki mused as he watched me. I laughed.

“Loki, most of these actors are in the older movies.” I looked over at him and smiled. “Look. This table will be for Doug Bradley. The one next to him is Kane hodder. Next to Malcolm is Heather langenkamp. It’s mainly people in horror movies from the 80s and 90s.” Loki laughed awkwardly and scratched the back of his head.

“Then I must admit I didn’t watch many of the horror movies.” I smiled at him again.

“I didn’t either. Until I was a teen.” I shrugged and continued walking. “Depression and anxiety does something to you. Grief too.” My face turned stoney as I turned down an aisle. It was silent for a while as I looked at the booths. I smiled and said hello to some of the vendors that I recognized.

“I’m sorry.” Loki said as we headed back towards Malcolm’s table. I looked over at him and frowned.

“For what?” I asked. Loki smiled sadly at me.

“For whatever it was that was you went through that horror movies no longer scared you.” I took a deep breath and nodded.

“Thank you. But you don’t have to apologize.” I squeezed his hand and let go when I saw Malcolm come into the hall. “Besides, I’m fine now.” Smiling at Loki I nodded towards the table before running towards it. “Malcolm!” I called as I ran into him and hugged him. Malcolm hugged me back tightly.

“(Y/N)! How have you been my dear?” He asked as he pulled away to look at me.

“Never better.” I smiled at him. Shaking his head, Malcolm kissed my cheek and hugged me again. “It’s so good to see you.” I sighed out. Malcolm nodded against my shoulder. Pulling away completely, I turned towards Loki. “Malcolm, this is Loki. He’s my friend.” Loki put on a fake smile and held his hand out for Malcolm to shake. Malcolm looked from me to Loki before shaking his hand.

“(Y/N) has told me about you.” Malcolm said with a sly smile. “We have a bit to talk about.” I looked between the two and swallowed thickly.

[oddygaul]

The Hunger Games Cinematic Universe

To preface, it does feel a little weird to critique these movies as if they sprung from nowhere. They’re all pretty faithful adaptations, which is relevant because many of my problems with this series are structural / worldbuilding issues, and so aren’t necessarily the fault of the adaptation as much as the source material itself. On the other hand, it’s pretty easy to rattle off some adaptations that took risks and made something fairly transformative - Jackson’s Lord of the Rings, or anything Masaaki Yuasa has adapted come to mind  - so fuck em, they’re fair game.

(I’d seen the first two movies a decade ago, and read the trilogy after that. Ballad and the Mockingjay films were new to me.)

The Hunger Games

Okay, so the original holds up as far as I’m concerned. What sets it apart from much of the post-apocalyptic or action YA that I’ve seen is ultimately how grounded it manages to keep its portrayal of all the kids. I think a lot of fiction with a similar premise tend to falls prey to Anime Syndrome: yes, all the characters are 16 or 17 or whatever, and the authors will make them do some classic teen angst things like get into stupid arguments and be deeply hormonal, but they fail to have the kids react to the horrifying situations they find themselves in convincingly. This is the plight of any battle shounen: the characters are literally fighting to the death against some manner of horrible supernatural monster, or even other human beings, yet will be written like a little devil-may-care badass, or even be stoked about getting to tEsT tHEiR LiMitS! If you’re going for a fun action show, that’s fine, but if you’re trying to sell it as a drama, you’ve already lost your biggest chip.

The Hunger Games (the first one, mind) never forgets that all its characters are young as hell. The absolute shaking terror of the cornucopia, the wide eyed panic as Katniss and Foxface come face-to-face and realize that neither of them wants to do harm, even Cato’s eleventh hour realization that his entire life and persona are ultimately meaningless*, all fill the story with a pathos that makes the movie work, despite some inherent YA cheese.

*Probably my favorite addition to the movie.

I really love the stupid-ass beard they gave this guy

Catching Fire

Yeah, this is where it starts to fall apart for me. The first act prior to the Games is pretty compelling; our look into Katniss’ PTSD, her and Peeta’s inability to reintegrate into society as if nothing happened, and the acute, sudden horror they’re slammed with upon realizing they’re being forced back into the games are all handled incredibly well. The first half hour of this movie feels like slowly waking up from a bad dream, only to realize you’re still asleep.

After that, though… eh.

I think what bothers me about the Games themselves in this one is that everyone taking part is an adult now. Part of what makes the concept of the Hunger Games so brutal is the age of the contestants - and not merely in a pearl-clutching, oh-jeez-it’s-so-horrible-to-see-this-violence-done-upon-the-youth sort of way. There’s just a special abhorrence tied to watching a bunch of children, who ought to have their whole lives ahead of them, slowly have the dawning realization that their whole world is now this mere microcosm, in which their only options are murder or death. Watching this emotional turmoil play out differently for each character is what makes the setup compelling; horrible, wrenching, but compelling.

So, having the idea for this one be that these grown-ass adults, each of whom has (by definition of being a victor) gone through this incredible trauma before, is willing to go back again and fight like it was the first time? I dunno, it feels goofy to me. And I’m not saying they have a choice to participate - I know it’s mandated - I mean that once they’re in the arena, half of them seem to go “oh well, here I go killin’ again!” like they’re clocking in for a job. It’s not like they’re sliding back into their old psychology by force once they’re in the arena, either - even in the training center, the careers are doing their usual sneering badass routine. You could make the argument that successful careers are the most likely to have child actor syndrome - that they stopped emotionally maturing after the Games and are stoked to be back in their element, Football Player That Peaked in High School style - but that feels so reductive.

I guess the fact that half of the tributes get in on the Secret Rebellion Plan kind of addresses this - they are working toward a goal in the background - but it still feels off. I wish the movie spent more time exploring the mindset of all the contestants before the games started to flesh out their motivations. As is, the Games here no longer feel like blood sport exploring the psychological response to trauma - they’re just blood sport.

Also, the violence feels very sanitized. Say what you will about the shakycam used in the first movie (it is undoubtedly excessive at times), but the confusion it provides combined with the blood makes the 74th Games feel absolutely terrifying. It gives the sense that no one is prepared for how primal things are becoming as the situation descends into a barbaric haze of violence. In Catching Fire, meanwhile, the bloodbath feels like it’s by-the-numbers for everybody - Katniss and friends group up and just start killin’ Bad Guys** right off the bat like it’s nothing, barely even watching their backs as they talk to each other. I read that the director of #2 and on made an intentional decision not to show blood, because he doesn’t like ‘glorifying violence’... I truly don’t understand how showing a bunch of characters cleanly and effortlessly killing other people like they’re in a Marvel movie is any better.

**This is just a symptom of my larger issues with the worldbuilding, but I really think the careers and their motivation get such short shrift in these movies. They explore it a bit in the first movie, but in Catching Fire they’re fully content to have the careers be easy Evil Bad Guys that the viewer isn’t supposed to feel bad for when they die. It’s another touch that betrays its YA roots, and reminds me of Harry Potter - “Welcome to Hogwarts! We’ve sorted you into the evil house for evil, no-good children, which exists because we need to have antagonists.”

This is also where the rebellion bits start popping up, but I’ll talk about those in a moment because…

Mockingjay I & II

…that’s what these entire movies are about and it’s so, so dicey.

Honestly, to me it feels like Collins had a great idea for a standalone book, but then, by dint of it being YA, was obligated to have the characters eventually band together to take down the big bad Capitol, and just didn’t have a great grasp on how the wider world worked or what a strong revolution story looks like. I think this story worked the best when it was only a small snapshot of the world, with all the periphery implied; the more it’s forced to get into the real nitty gritty of how the setting works, the more ramshackle and unbelievable everything feels, and Mockingjay is where it hits a breaking point. It’s not that there are plot holes, exactly, it’s that we see so little of the wider world that everything feels grossly oversimplified.

I think this is where these films’ dogged adherence to the source material really screws them over. While the books are also lacking in worldbuilding and context from the perspective of other characters, it makes sense there because the books are all first-person POV. Of course we don’t get cutaways to citizens in the Capitol ruminating on their role in all this, or seeing the inner workings of the Peacekeepers to give them any characterization whatsoever outside of being blank plastic suits, because Katniss doesn’t see that. Since the movies have fully done away with this conceit, though, the omission of these supporting scenes feels glaring - especially when the movies are trying so hard to push this theme that everyone has their own fight, and both sides have a reason for their actions.

So, on that note, thematically it’s a fucking mess. It dips its toes into a dozen different themes without really firmly exploring any of them, leaving it feeling indecisive and tonally inconsistent. For example, Mockingjay I spends its intro showing the effect Katniss’ PTSD is having on her, and challenging the idea that just because someone has gone through trauma, they’re a hero and ought to be set up as the mouthpiece of the revolution - how can you ethically put the responsibility of leadership on someone who gets the shakes every time they hear a bang? …but then, not to worry, show her a cool superhero outfit and she’s out there shooting down gunships with fuckin Hawkeye arrows by dinnertime.

And the wider revolution story has many similar issues. What’s your message? Dictators are bad? Wow, what a take. Both sides committed atrocities, so they’re both bad? Politics are hard and messy, and you just gotta keep your head down and hope you can retire to the country? Yeah, way to really take a hard stance on that one.

If I put all that aside, it generally works as a character piece - Katniss and Peeta’s development over the course of the story, in particular, is well done through and through, and it feels rare to see a broad appeal series like have the nerve to take its leads to such dark places. There’s also a lot of surprisingly great character acting throughout; my personal standouts are Hutcherson, Stanley Tucci, and (surprisingly) Woody Harrelson, but there’s honestly not a bad actor in the bunch, which is impressive. Still, with the subject material being so heavy, it’s hard for me just to take it at face value like that, and I wish they shored up the weaker elements a bit.

I’m just saying, if you spend that much of your screentime showing crowds of children being murdered by IEDs, I think you ought to be building towards a strong statement. 

The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes

Yeah, this one felt like a waste of a movie in a really weird way. The execution was incredibly well done - lots of solid acting, production design, etc, which is a huge waste because the basic premise of the movie is fucking worthless.

So, the whole point, I would say, of doing a prequel is to flesh out interesting parts of your universe that you didn’t have time for in the original work. Unanswered questions, a character’s past that you want to learn more about, a deeper dive into parts of the world or lore that weren’t touched on but caught people’s imagination. The Hunger Games series has plenty of gaps that need to be filled: I said above how incredibly small the world seems due to barely exploring any of the capitol, other districts, etc., so it was ripe for a prequel or spinoff! Let us spend some time in other districts, see how other people live and feel about the whole thing. Even if we’re not going post-war, and are going back to the era of the Games (which of course we would), there’s 75 years worth of questions to explore.

Instead of focusing on any of that, the premise of this movie (/book) is “Hey, you know the villain from the original story that seemed like a huge, irredeemable piece of shit? Let’s spend a two and a half hour runtime telling you his backstory, which will show you that actually… he’s always been a piece of shit”. Wow. Spellbinding.

Now, there’s nothing inherently wrong with a main character being a bad person. Particularly, if your character is charismatic, they don’t necessarily have to be right or good to be interesting to watch; there’s a certain magnetism to watching that for a lot of people. It’s never been my cup of tea, to be honest; whether pegged as comedy (Always Sunny) or drama (Breaking Bad), I get fed up really quickly when I hate everyone in a piece of fiction. But done correctly, it can still be interesting - showing how a character ended up where they are, showing you a rare good side of them you’d never seen, or showing that they used to be moral, but just happened to be tested one too many times and fell off the deep end.

Snow is none of these. He’s a piece of shit from the first time we see him, he consistently acts like a piece of shit to everyone around him, and then he ends up, in fact, being a piece of shit***. What’s interesting about that?

***I think the most generous interpretation I could give of his character is a piece of shit who briefly dabbles in transactional friendship after Lucy Gray saves him from the rubble, then shortly thereafter returns to being a piece of shit. Which I still do not find especially compelling.

Even outside of that, it’s one of those prequels that does nothing but make the world feel smaller - rather than expanding on any of the dozens of untouched ideas in the series, we spend a bunch more time in District 12, and show that, actually, it turns out Snow and his hangups are the only reason anything happened in this universe for nearly 100 years. From Katniss’ name to the Hanging Tree song she sings, turns out half the things we learned in The Hunger Games resulted from this one particular guy’s life story. In a series that already felt like the world was too small and was in desperate need of expansion, further narrowing the scope feels like such a misstep.

Why yes, I did need to know exactly what the Kessel Run was!

Odds & Ends

I mostly blocked out my memories of Mockingjay the book from the single time I read it back in the day, because I thought it was booty, but the one thing I remembered liking that they changed up was Finnick’s death. In the book, he’s just there one moment and gone the next, without any fanfare or time to grieve, which serves to make his death feel especially cruel. I suppose it was inevitable, but counter-intuitively, the Big Hollywood Death Scene they gave him here felt a lot less impactful.

-------

A point about the series in general: boy did the costume design bother me. It’s interesting, because all I remembered about it from when this series blew up was the gaudy Capitol style and how crazy the internet was about it. Watching these movies again, I feel like that success was a total fluke, because everything else is goofy as hell. The way that every district has their own bespoke fucking Civil War re-enactment outfits is wild - look, the ‘District 11 is just one big Southern plantation’ thing was always really obvious, but seeing each district dressed up like they're from competing historical re-enactment groups was wild.

The prequel turns this up to 11. I feel like someone on the team though they were real clever - this one’s set 60 years earlier, so let’s make all the outfits and design retro! What? People in flapper clothes, the lake scene with their 1940s swimsuits, even the logo and graphic design in the Hunger Games broadcasting room looking like it’s from the 50s - it doesn’t make any fucking sense. Yeah, they’re set decades before the original books - in the year, like, 2300. What, everyone just forgot how to do graphic design again after the war? Fashion is cyclical, but not like this…

--------

Also, movies 1 and 2 in particular definitely have some uncomfortable racial dynamics going on. I was already weirded out that a lot of the districts seem to be separated by ethnicity, but as you go on, it’s hard to ignore how nearly every Black person seems to exist solely to help Katniss along in her quest before dying horribly and usually on-camera. Rue, Thresh, Cinna, even that old man that flashes the salute in District 11… it’s remarkably consistent.

[intrepidradish]

Media: Star Wars

Year/my age: 2018/28

What drew me to the media:

It was 2017, the Last Jedi came out, and I stewed in the "hmm, that had a certain zest to it" for about a month. I liked Star Wars before like any child raised in the 90s with a father. We went the prequels and heard the complaints coming home from the theater. My dad died in October of 2017, but he did see The Force Awakens. I wonder what he would have thought about The Last Jedi, where Luke is a jaded, angry, failure of an old man. Probably like the rest of the old guard, spitting inconsolable rage.

At the time, I was in a newish job and so bored stupid I was depressed about it. I was living alone for the first time, in a new city and state, and I wanted to die. Pretty good recipe to get obsessed.

What made me a fan:

I am nothing if not consistent. The dark prince trope really fucking chest stabs me. I am a reylo. Or at least, I was. The Last Jedi is a very polarizing film. If someone is talking about it, they either love it or hate it.

Regardless, I think Rian Johnson is a better storyteller than JJ Abrams could ever hope to be. Even if you are annoyed about his choices, he has a point of view. JJ Abrams is the most milquetoast of writers, which is why we got at the end of the sequels the most milquetoast of stories. An average of opinions is the most dull one. He made few narrative stances, but a few were quiet clear. Rose and Finn and Poe were abandoned, and Reylo was shot in the face.

But those weren't things that made me a fan, just abruptly killed me interest.

So what itch did Reylo scratch? It's like Beauty and the Beast. Good, innocent heroine! Mean, evil villain. It's very simple. Enemies to Lovers is so ripe a plot device. Does she get turned? Does he get redeemed? How? Why? In what world or situation?

Kylo Ren is sort of an interesting monster too. He's a spoiled manbaby with a sword. Rey was pretty cookie cutter a heroine, but she had a spike of anger in her, which I always appreciate for storytelling.

I don't know what was the breaking point to read fanfiction, but I did, and I read fanfiction for months and months and months.

The meta was the best too, because everyone was trying to predict the next movie. Everyone thought that Disney was quite smart (they aren't), that they were making history (they weren't). But Star Wars has such lengthy, decades of lore, the meta pulled from everywhere.

Have I written fanfiction for it?

I tried, but it was terrible. I think I wrote 700 words for it. I did a retelling of that first torture scene where Rey and Kylo met. I never published it, thank god.

Why or why not:

It goes back to the lore thing. Too much of it! Also the fans were...ahem... frothing at the mouth violent.

Opinion on the fandom:

"I am cringe, but I am free."

The most important thing I took away from observing this absolutely dumpster-fire warzone is that you gotta protect yourself first and create a space that you can enjoy. I'm thankful for being a reylo because I was really really enjoying something very controversial. (oh no, two adults in a challenging relationship that may or may not be abusive. The horror. I've never seen that anywhere! Why could I possibly want to read about that?)

But it ripped the bandaid off. I like things that are cringe, and interacting with cringe things have improved my life (dare I say, made me a better person? ...no i darest not say it). It's also given me a lot of confidence in how I interact online. If I don't like something being said. I move on. It's very easy. If someone gets in my face about it, I block them. Do not engage.

I recommend everyone discover their cringe. It feels good. It heals you. Post anonymously. Savor it.

My opinion of the fandom is that its awful. Do not interact with it.

I dabbled again in it for the Mandalorian because I liked Cob/Mando. But even that wore on my patience very quickly.

Would I read again?

Star Wars is huge, but it's also Disney, which tastes bad. I don't watch their shows right now. Can I say I won't be dragged back into it at any point? No, I can't. It could happen again. I'm not immune to the call of massive sci fi universes. I really hope not. I have other things going on that need my attention.

[the-stage-manager]

This is brilliant! But can I make a suggestion? Hear me out: Angel, as a mafioso, had to be in control of *everything* and the stakes were always *high*—he was expected to act a certain way, tough and cold and masculine. And just think of how fucking *toxic* masculinity was in the 30s—repressing every emotion that isn't anger, being stoic and stern, hiding any flaw or weakness, constantly being in control of your image and your wife and your kids. Not to mention he was part of the *Mafia* and that adds an amount of pressure to never make mistakes—you could alert the law, you could be killed and made an example of. Angel knew that the way he felt about men was *illegal*, let alone bizarre. Can you imagine an openly gay man in the Mafia? Ha! They'd be shot! And if anybody ever found out he liked to try on Molly's dresses, they would've hung him by his intestines. Back then, marrying young was expected. I wonder if Angel was married to a pretty girl, just to keep up appearances? Washing away the disgust with PCP?

Meanwhile, Vox has *never* been in control. If he was middle aged in the 50s, I guarantee he was a WWII veteran. Those vets saw unimaginable shit—they witnessed the concentration camps, the devastation of Europe, the dropping of the Bombs. Then, when the vets came home, they were expected to seamlessly reintegrate into civilian life without a peep. It fucked up an entire generation of people—I bet it fucked up Vox too. He lost his youth to a war and his adult life to a shitty office job. I bet he married a girl he liked but who couldn't understand the horrors of what he had witnessed overseas. Maybe he had a baby who reminded him a little too much of the starved little faces he saw in the streets of France or Poland, whose screams reminded him a little too much of combat. Maybe the one time he lost control, he scared his wife a little too much, and he never saw her or the baby again. Maybe he blew his brains while watching TV, surrounded by bottles of liquor.

I like to imagine they were drawn to each other by a shared love of movies: they were nostalgic to Angel. Some of the best times of his life were when his mother dressed them up and took them to a night at the theater, before he matured into the crushing weight of his heritage. Vox loved movies too. Specifically, cowboy westerns, stories of powerful, handsome men who saved the day—men who were important, who were revered.

Maybe they meet accidentally at a shitty theater, and they strike up an accidental friendship bitching about how shitty the movie is. Maybe Vox tells Angel about Marilyn Monroe, of the movie-star culture of the 50s, of the glitz and glamore. Maybe they get a drink together, chatting about life and death and hell and religion and all the shitty things they did in life. Maybe they bond over their wives? Maybe Angel admits he never loved his girl, she repulsed him.

"Oh, so you're a friend of Dorothy's," Vox asked casually.

"A what?" Angel demanded. He'd never heard the phrase but had a feeling he knew what it meant.

"A homosexual. You like fellas. Christ, Angel, you don't have to act all offended, we're in hell. What am I gonna do, damn you?" Vox snorted. He'd considered himself a "Good Christian man" in life, but he'd been dead long enough to know there was no point in clutching pearls. Then, he said something he hadn't planned on saying, something he'd never told anyone before "I buggered some British jackass I mean overseas,"

Angel's eyes widened, and Vox's did too, anticipating... Well, shit. What was he expecting from the admittedly queer mafioso? Certainly not peals of laughter, but that's what he got.

pre-valentino mafioso angel meeting little sepia beta vox in the fifties, rapidly realizing that this guy has been bottling up all of his worst impulses his entire life AND afterlife because no one has ever respected him or taken him seriously, which angel understands intimately, and just being like "are you tired of being nice? don't you just wanna go apeshit?" and lets vox just go full-on looney tunes cartoon violence on angel's shitty family.

the buddy-comedy (and angst) potential of these two is so strong. angel not begrudging vox his upgrades because he knows how dehumanizing it is to not be recognized as the threat that you are; angel who was given the form of a spider but has never stopped being treated like the fly; derided for being gay and gnc in the thirties and just solving all of his problems with a gun because it's easier than addressing his self-worth issues.

enter vox. who's never been able to be anything but a boring middle-aged guy at a white collar office job bc his ambitions were never given the space or support to be able to thrive. gradually building up huge amounts of resentment & repressed cruelty that he couldn't ever vent & then dying & going to hell & being a little cartoon. doomed to an eternity of never ever being anyone or doing anything important because he STILL exists only for everyone else to demean and ignore and dismiss. but now it's worse bc his survival depends on his entertainment value. imagining the relief of meeting angel & seeing his own fury & sadistic desperation reflected there. absolutely LEAPING at the chance to slaughter angel's abusive mafia family with him. and thus a beautiful doomed friendship was born.

doomed, because, well... a few decades later, they're both going to meet someone who makes them feel uniquely valued. respected. seen. and only one of them is going to make it out of that situation with their autonomy intact, because the thing vox has always wanted most is to be on top, by any means necessary - but all angel has ever wanted is to not be alone.

[lonespektr]

Well shit right out of the gate

Boys already in the trunk

Already in a secondary location

Oh not cut back to 6 hours earlier

They live... Somewhere vold apparently

They are little friends

I thought they were strangers

Boyhood intimacy that dissolves when toxic masculinity sets in

Playing ball

They are to be clear

In apparent middle of nowhere

No frame of reference for location

Wind and trees so you already have the appearance from this scene they are two boys alone in the middle of nowhere

Despite the fact that they are children, they can't be alone and they are dressed for a ball game so clearly there's a school a house a community.. something but we are estranged from that

WOAH

Violent spree no lure

Back to the trunk

Kid is a fighter

They are doing a good job of not aging up this young black boy

Think this is assisted by the boys constant voice cracking and the intimacy of the shots prior

Juxtaposition with ocean cuts... California, the dream

The other boy was separated (taken out of the trunk first)

Artsy cuts interspersed

The black kid makes a break for it then realizes his bestie in the house and he turns back

We are still very much in the middle of nowhere

Stealth is not this boys expertise

Luck and being in the middle of nowhere has helped him evade notice thus far

Oh shit there's two men this just got bad

Cash in hand

The other one leaves

He gets caught quickly

Chase

Through the house obvious creeper tries to placate the boy everything is locked so it's not a hostile chase as an adult (sicko) trying to calm a boy down

Luck is on the boys side almost physical comedy he gets his own self killed slipping into a knife basically trying to pretend hes not going to hurt the boy (bobby)

Now we see the watch again 38 mins on the clock

Kevin is ahackled in the room which is why he ain't done anything

Bobby after an unknown length of freak about apology session for the dead kidnapper

Goes to find kev

Keys to the room and presumably shackles are unlocateable

But keys to the car are in dead kidnapper no 1 pocket

Bobby tries the car to go get help

But bobby is fucking 8 or some shit and not only cannot drive but definitely can't drive a fucking a manual from the sixties EYE can't drive a manual from the sixties that shit didn't even look like it had power steering

Bobby finds a rotary phone

Kevin knows how that shit works lol it's 2020 and their 8

The watch beeps

Time is up

I will note the car rolled down the drive which might provide cover ??

The use of sound is to isolate small noises and pump them to 11 the watch beep a nail crack a screw turn

The kid dials 911 and the 911 operator calls him " sir"

It's obviously a small child

The dialogue is limited (as with most horrors) and the supplemental info is radio and tv soundtracks

With specific narratives

Kevin unscrews a heating grate (it's an old fracking house it's thin iron wrought

And tries to chop his foot (before interruption)

The emphasis at the age of these kids is highlighted at every turn because that will most certainly not work it's not heavy enough hes not strong enough etc

Bobby struggles like hell to move the corpse and it's only assisted by the pool of blood that slicks the way

He is TERRIBLE at cleaning like children are there's a lot of blood and it's almost comically bad how he can't get it come out

Failed to mention the rotary phone was in a chest of otger little boys bloody clothes so here we are

Bobby successfully temporarily hid the body and the car rolled in a ditch so as predicted he seems like he left

I don't know that this scene is even necessary but the boy is at least covering all the angles

The kidnapper #2 comes back and access a safe and goes elsewhere the boy then acesses the safe and finds a shit ton of cash and pedo paraphernalia

As if we don't know, and does the kid need to know? Did we need an innocence further lost moment

Best guess is an explainer that these men are human traffickers not pedos themselves and that is why the boys are in immediate bodily harm?

Because the photos were staged that speaks to sale and gives the audience a time explanation for why they are alone for so long, this is a stash house???

Bobby injures himself trying to get kev out again reinforcing they are children and complete idiots

Hes caught again

911 rolls up and instead of smashing the window he just starts screaming

The intensity of this film is relaying to the audience just how young and stupid these kids are

Theres a woman now

Not surprising snatching two kids at once is a multi partner operation

Local cop

PLOT TWIST the other guy is a woman there are only two .so far

Local cop tips his hand that there's a kidnapper traced to the area???

This a stupid cop trope or a woman aren't suspicious commentary

Cop clocks woman cut her hand is being obviously go fucking suspicious AND her attempts at banter are off putting in a way that's clearly designed to put him on the defensive

Lady decided shes been caught and shes putting down local cop because she just leaves him at the front door

A small black child runs out of a white womans house and says help us

Local cop is like oh fuck this is real situation

Cop down/ which means help is on the way later because... dispatch is gonna ask soon, even if it's in podunk no where

Shinning reference/ axe door

The gun obviously comes out now because obvs she was trying to protect the merchandise

She found her partner in crime

Lil reference to even racism in trafficking she was going to leave him in the car to die presumably because she can't get money for black kids

Not presumably she just said it

Annd now shes aging him up as a "fighter" because he's trying desperately not to get trafficked, classy

Bobby gets the drop on her she's clearly illustrated she gets smol white boys probably with lures and probably makes her partner do the fighting

Despite getting the drop on her and handcuffing her to a pipe he literally left her with the gun (kids are dumb)

He gets grazed but hes 8 so getting shot isn't ideal

WTF does kev got on his neck??

There's racial implications here in the non black child

(I don't think kev is white tbh)

Really seen just panicking and not doing shit to save himself, he's less mobility due to being chained but after his one idea of self harm is concluded he is largely seen just screaming and crying no survival instincts

Is this appropriate for a child yes

But there's clearly a race element as who is expected to be saved and who anticipates their own rescue even when bobby is doing anything and everything he can injured fighting adults kev is just crying don't leave me as if he hasn't been there the whole time when he could have left

It's a shock collar

But it's janky as shit and clearly made from AA batteries only after bobby LITERALLY passes out from pain and blood loss does kev find it in himself to save his own ass and does the decent thing to collect his bestie to

I'm not convinced had the cutters to the shock collar not been with bobby kev would have just dipped

The got into the police cruiser and at least kev is a boy scout he's doing first aid once again the radio dispatcher is trash and tells them to get off the channel

They evade long enough for the cops to come in the nick of time

Apparently they make it to California the boys carry we never see the parents their house their lives anything it's wholly insulated

For instance what's the context be if we see the parents ( not saying we should have) but it's two boys from separate families meantto attend a ball game

Yesterday

These under 12's have neen missing overnight there would already be an amber alert

Two boys who say their first and last names say they have neen taken

That should have illicited a response

Anyways solidly constructed

Child in the cupboard playing with mice

Blood and screams coming from above the floor boards

Fast forward

Man digging bog is big news in small town

This woman doesn't want her mother picking up her kid from school

There's a dig bog adjacent, mummified corpse

Bog digger saw something and died

Intruder in the back yard??

Mom has seizures ( for the record immensely poorly imitated seizure, it seems hard for actors to do that for some reason

It's poorly researched ??

It looked like a literal tremor including the bed

Researcher comes into town, flirty with woman who has dark family history

(Murder of granny to start with)

Home invasion of woman - one of the guys on the researcher team says they're making me do it

Attacks them, steals milk??

Let's out a scream in a voice not his own womans voice

Lady protag not too terrified to clock it

WTF?

Mom is gonna get stabbed in mouth obligatory horror phallic intrusion into mouth 🙄🙄🤮🤮 everybody take a drink

Dad saves the day

With a hammer no serious injuries except to research tram member

The guy comes by to apologize on behalf of his employee

Saying he's literally the nicest guy on the team and he had to have snapped thru have known him for years

She tries to connect it to the past but the head researcher says he would have been a teenager when that happened and also not in this country at all

UH OH

I knew the old man knew something he says bog man was very nice to before he started digging crazy bogs and

It's starting again DUNT DUNT DUNNN

Mom not buying it but she drops they go to get an mri and a demon child if following her around the hospital ???

Why did u stay in the elevator with a demon child?

Why are taking their hand they chanting somi

Ghost behind you!!!!

Omg lol the child passed ou and she left it in the elevator 🤣🤣

Chant translation: she never died

Dutch traditions of bog whispers legend of Feike

Who's helen?

The bog digger is referenced to by his father as a sensative

He's saying his son probably heard a whisper

Like the elevator

The woman fights with the researcher in the car about not being crazy and asking genuine questions about what the bog the digging and the woman they are digging up have to do in common

The researcher says hes not going to tell her if she's paranoid

They immediate counteract her point by having her jump out of the car into the middle of the night screaming than pounce on the guy and have sex in the middle of the field 🙄🙄

Cut to the dig site

Four women all throats cut

Oh yea the dead set up nature cams

Graphic take for a children's play even as town lore

And moloch didn't even save the woman she action does but ruling over prosperity and resolving town poverty is a big get

Dad setting up traps instead of serving the play the daughter played feike

[thegreatimpersonator]

Hello!! I interrupt your scheduled programing with "Kate tells Meg about the book she is reading because she is bored and reading is fun!" time!

Okay - so, I finished the Adventures of Amina Al-Sirafi by Shannon Chakraborty on audio, and wow! I really liked it! I found the writing to be subtle, and the narrators did such a great job with the emotions the book had. The plot was almost like peeling back a layer on something, finding more and more behind the walls. It starts out one way, and then the adventure starts and pulls you along for the ride. The characters were lovable, and it was so nice to read a book that had Middle-aged adults at the helm. They felt real and I rooted for them! Very excited for the next book when it comes out! Highly recommend for audio!

Up next for audio: I am about 25% of the way through Thistlefoot by GennaRose Nethercott! I've picked this book up a couple of times, only to turn around and set it down for whatever reason. This time, second time trying on audio, I managed to push through the part that kept stumping me, and I like it so far! I am interested! I like Bellatine a lot, but still trying to find some connection to Issac. I am curious to see how this will all intertwine with each other because right now it feels like there's a lot trying to happen. However, the setting is dreamy and lush with imagery and fall vibes, so it's doing a great job for healing my heart, as I ache for the cooler weather, spookier vibes, and dreamy colors.

For physical books, I managed to get about 50 pages through Immortal Longings this weekend, and I wish I could find some more time to sit and read because I like it! The setting is gritty, the vibes are mysterious and what can I say, I love a good trial setting. Still getting to know the main characters, but I am rooting for them! Has the classic Chole Gong imagery, but a lot less dense, and I think the New Adult setting for her works well! I think it allows her to actually tell the story she wants to tell without being worried about it being too much for a younger audience. Hope she considers sticking in the genre!

Other fun news, we adopted our new kitten on Monday! He is about 5 months old, black short hair and the sweetest little guy. He's snoozing in his carrier while I work right now :D His name is BMO from Adventure Time! We're still a bit away from introducing him to our older cat Suki (from Avatar the Last Airbender!) but hopes are high and we are so happy :D

Anyways, thanks for tuning in! Back to your scheduled programming with Meg talking about Kendall Roy :D (Long asks for the win!)

OH HELL YEAH it's been a long time coming!! This makes me instantly want to pick up immortal longings, but I need to finish my current read first haha! Lovely to hear about Adventures of Amina al-sarafi, I bet audiobooks add a whole new dimension to the genre (I've heard so much about how yellowface would work best w a narrator, looking forward to try that out) and BMO 🥺 i hope he gets along well with suki, always ALWAYS a pleasure to hear about cats!! Im currently reading siren queen by nghi vo, I guess I'm still chasing the do tell vibes and so far it has been promising so let's see how that fares! A friend also highly recommended Naomi's Room and I think this is the perfect time to delve into horror so maybe I'll check it out soon, Still trying to convince myself to get started w house of leaves but for some reason I keep saving it for later lmao!

[televinita]

Books Read in 2022: The Why

I said I wasn’t gonna do this but then it really annoyed me that I hadn’t while I was looking at the older ones, and SECRETLY it turns out I had the whole document on my computer so boom. End-of-year wrap-up but it’s midway through the next year.

We are now in year seven (?!) of looking back at my reading list for the year and answering the question, why did you read this particular book? I’m officially adding back in where/how I heard of it, too, because I also missed being able to easily see that stat.

You can see the full chronological list w/ larger cover images here, but these are split into groups by target readership age, plus nonfiction at the end. When it comes to 20th century teen books, sometimes it’s very hard to decide whether to count a title YA or middle grade, so I tried to just stick with the rule of “protagonists age 13 and under = middle grade.”

ADULT FICTION

(splitting into 3 sections because there are A Lot of covers here)

Very Sincerely Yours - Kerry Winfrey. 2021. Do we all know the story of how I took one look at the love interest described in the summary and said “Darren Criss??” (specifically the energy of him in that one music video?)

How I heard of it: a book blog

How Not To Die Alone - Richard Roper. 2019. I mean, it’s an eye-catching title! Upon pulling it out: “oh I’m here for sad introverted men. And the prospect of office romance.” And his job sounded interesting to read about.

How I heard of it: library

The Killer in the Carriage House - Sheila Connolly. 2019. The Secret Staircase - Sheila Connolly. 2021. The first audiobook of this cozy-mystery series was such a fun experience last year that I was excited to enjoy the next two (sadly there are no more, or I would have kept going)

Cross My Heart - Robin Lee Hatcher. 2019. Pulled this out of a Little Free Library like “HORSES??” (a romance featuring people who work with horses, specifically) and read it immediately.

Castaways - Brian Keene. 2009. The premise of “Survivor goes horribly wrong” was irresistible. I love jungle thrillers, I love horror, I don’t usually love cryptid horror but combined with the premise, I said yeah, okay.

How I heard of it: Goodreads

Present Danger - Elizabeth Goddard. 2021. My rewatch of Blood & Treasure season 1 whipped me into a frenzy of both searching the keyword “treasure” in the library catalog and looking for 2nd chance romance. This one gave me both, PLUS my beloved western mountain setting!

Brood - Jackie Polzin. 2021. Small, cute, compact book to which I said, “chickens? Vignettes? Cool.”

How I heard of it: library, specifically because it was shelved beside the next book on this list.

A Rumored Fortune - Joanna Davidson Politano. 2018. See “Present Danger” rationale but swap mountain setting for a 19th century English estate (woo!) and more prominent focus on treasure.

How I heard of it: library

Made in the U.S.A. - Billie Letts. 2008. I really enjoyed two of her earlier ones; this cover caught my eye at the library so I spontaneously decided to take a trip back to her.

The River - Peter Heller. 2019. The Guide - Peter Heller. 2021. Watch The Amazing Race Season 33 –> find Dusty & Ryan’s friendship totally awesome –> Google for a book about two best friends, ideally in an outdoor setting –> find the book of your dreams in a Reddit post looking for exactly that. And I loved the characters so much that of COURSE I was going to read the sequel.

Five Tuesdays in Winter: Stories - Lily King. 2021. The title got my attention and the first couple of stories intrigued me juuuust enough that I decided to read the whole thing instead of just skimming or reading a couple.

How I heard of it: library

The Bookshop of Yesterdays - Amy Meyerson. 2018. How could you NOT love the idea of a) a literary scavenger hunt and b) inheriting a bookshop??

How I heard of it: I think this one was on a book blog?

While You Sleep - Stephanie Merritt. 2019. Picked up the previous book at the library and this was next to it. What I could see of the spine looked cool, the cover looked awesome, and “ghost story on an isolated island off the coast of Scotland?? TAKE ME TO THERE.”

Before I Called You Mine - Nicole Deese. 2020. I was desperate for a sweet romance. I wasn’t sure if this would cut it, but when I looked it up on Goodreads, there was a review that said “if you don’t fall in love with Joshua you are not human,” and that was a very good endorsement indeed. not least because I was looking for a book specifically to cast Josh Groban in

How I heard of it: used book sale

Lake Season - Denise Hunter. 2019. Days of furious keywoord-googling produces: sweet romance prospect the second! (he’s a shy and reclusive romance novelist?? OK go) WITH a bonus dream setting/premise of “inherited B&B.”

Beautiful Girls: Stories - Beth Ann Bauman. 2002. The cover was very pretty – less for the image of legs than the lovely use of purple tones, which I suppose includes the knee high socks I now want – and I was hoping to relate to the women/girls in this collection. Bought 1.5 years ago, read now to see if I could get rid of it. (yes)

How I heard of it: used-book section of my magic local Barnes & Noble.

girlchild - Tupelo Hassman. 2012. I was intrigued by the cover, trailer park setting, vignette style of writing, and 3-generations-of-women cast of characters.

How I heard of it: used book sale

All That Really Matters - Nicole Deese. 2021. Her other book was so good that I looked up her backlist, which led me to one been intrigued by on a book blog but forgotten to write down; I genuinely had no idea it was this author! Mostly because: I love main characters who are Influencers, but I was also curious about her youth mentorship job.

The Middle of Somewhere - Sonja Yoerg. 2015. Summertime = hiking inspiration time! (she’s on the Pacific Crest Trail)

How I heard of it: Goodreads

Thief of Hearts - Tess Gerritsen. 1995. Blood & Treasure obsession round 2 (for season 2) leads to me seeking an audiobook with a British female narrator whose voice will remind me of Lexi’s. And then I find one from an author I love, about a CAT BURGLAR?? Serendipity! So even though their nationalities are reversed, “whatever, this is a Danny-and-Lexi story now in my head.”

How I heard of it: Libby

In Their Footsteps - Tess Gerritsen. 1994. And then I accidentally fell in love with Jordan Tavistock so much that I went back to the first book in the duology to get more of him.

How I heard of it: Libby

Never Say Die - Tess Gerritsen. 1992.   But in between those books, I was like, that is WILD, I can’t believe I’m finding 90s mass market romance so fun?? so I picked up a bonus (in print this time) because this one kind of looked like my other OTP Of The Summer, Claire/Owen, since it was an ex-soldier + headstrong woman who Doesn’t Need His Help.

How I heard of it: Libby

Mom Jeans and Other Mistakes - Alexa Martin. 2021. Raise your hand if you LOVE the idea of best friends moving in together in adulthood even though one of them has a kid.

How I heard of it: a book blog

The Summer List - Amy Mason Doan. 2018. SO many reasons: the beautiful cover and title, best friends reuniting in adulthood after 15 years apart, the idea of scavenger hunts, the northern California setting...

How I heard of it: oh no, can’t remember! I think Goodreads?

The Lake Season - Hannah McKinnon. 2015. The beautiful summery cover, mostly. I wanted in on a similar setting after loving the above.

How I heard of it: Goodreads (upon looking up Lake Season in the search bar)

What You Wish For - Katherine Center. 2020. I’ve loved several of hers and though I was definitely Wary about this one’s romance, then I got briefly obsessed with Adam Scott and was like, oh, I could imagine HIM playing this character in a still-appealing way, given the difference between his personalities on Parks & Rec vs. Severance! (facts: even picturing Scott, I still hated Duncan)

How I heard of it: Goodreads

A Dazzle of Diamonds - Liz Johnson. 2020. Was once again in the mood for a sweet romance and I loved the other two in this series / had always wanted to read this one. Guaranteed good time.

How I heard of it: Goodreads, but introduced to the series originally on a book blog

Tailspin - Elizabeth Goddard. 2016. Blood & Treasure got me to a place of “I need multiple life-threatening/life-saving action scenes STAT!” and then my brain remembered that when I was last here in January, I’d learned that Goddard had one billion options for me. This one seemed closest to my needs from what the library had. Cookie-cutter mass market romance is very useful sometimes.

How I heard of it: Goodreads

We Went to the Woods - Caitlin Dolan-Leach. 2019. It sounded like an American version of my beloved The Shadow Year. Friends deciding to try group homesteading for self-sufficiency? BRING IT.

How I heard of it: Goodreads

Rizzoli & Isles #13: Listen To Me - Tess Gerritsen. 2022. Read & loved all the other books in this series.

The Map That Leads To You - Joseph Monninger. 2017. I’ve read several of his YA novels, and then a Reddit post described it as some of the most beautiful writing they’d ever encountered. Plus, it is very romantic to think of a man following his grandfather’s leatherbound travel journal.

The Vines - Shelley Nolden. 2021. Came up on my Goodreads feed; I clicked on the link to her research about North Brother Island with all its crumbling abandoned structures, and immediately said TRANSPORT ME HERE FICTIONALLY.

An Afternoon Walk - Dorothy Eden. 1971. The cover pulled me in and the first chapter – which details the cover image as they explore the grounds of a nearby estate and peek at the abandoned house – sold me entirely.

How I heard of it: used book sale

The Lost Island - Preston & Child. 2014. Gideon's Sword - Preston & Child. 2011. Looking for more audiobooks that at least vaguely fit my Danny/Lexi/adventure casting, the “treasure” keyword pinged the Lost Island. It didn’t work for Lexi, but I could totally picture Matt Barr as Gideon and the audiobook was really good, so I went back to the beginning. (I had intended to listen to the whole 5-book series, but I got Distracted)

How I heard of it: Libby

Fading Starlight - Kathryn Cushman. 2016. Beautiful cover + fixing up a coastal house, I’m there.

How I heard of it: used book sale

Hidden Treasures - Michelle Adams. 2021. Needed an audiobook, did a keyword search for “treasure” on Libby this time and was drawn in by that, the cover, the prospect of cleaning out a hoarder’s house, and the 2nd chance romance (hey there Danny/Lexi).

The More I See Of Men - Lynn Hall. 1992. Reading all her books is #1 on my literary bucket list. I’ve long been intrigued by this one ever since Lynn referenced it in an interview, so I finally bit the bullet and bought a copy when I found one for $5 (and, in a shocking turn of events, actually read it immediately).

Small Game - Blair Braverman. 2022. Does everyone in the world know yet how I fooled myself into believing this would be like the TV show Siberia??

How I heard of it: Goodreads

Tuesday Mooney Talks to Ghosts - Kate Racculia. 2019. Small Game failed me, so I desperately went fishing on my TBR for a pick-me-up and decided a treasure / scavenger hunt with riddles would be a good consolation prize.

How I heard of it: Goodreads

The Dragon Keeper - Mindy Mejia. 2012. I liked a previous book of hers and loved the idea of a zookeeper character, with a focus on her zoo charge. Bought cheap at a book sale since library didn’t have it, and read it ASAP to send it back out the door.

A Shroud of Leaves - Rebecca Alexander. 2019. A Baby's Bones - Rebecca Alexander. 2018. The cover and title pulled me in, not least because season 1 of Bedlam ended on a cliffhanger that made me desperate to read a proper British crime novel about missing girls. Who knew I would find one at the dollar store?? Anyway, the book was so awesome that I went back to the first one at the library ASAP.

In A Cottage In A Wood - Cass Green. 2017. Riding high on British thrillers, this was for sale at the library and I jumped on it because “you randomly inherit a house” is always a plot favorite. Bonus points if it’s apparently creepy.

The Doll's House - M. J. Arlidge. 2015. Still on the British thriller theme of missing girls, this time looking for an audiobook -- and I’m always extra-intrigued by The Collector-type scenarios. (I was not aware it was part of a series until after I started)

How I heard of it: Libby

Vanishing Edge - Claire Kells. 2021. An Unforgiving Place - Claire Kells. 2022. Hiking inspiration (national parks) AND an investigative mystery? The first one was so good that I devoured the sequel as soon as it was available.

How I heard of it: Goodreads

The Escape Room - Megan Goldin. 2019. Found a cheap audiobook at a library sale, am down for escape room thrillers

How I heard of it: used book sale

Lease on Love - Falon Ballard. 2022. It popped up on the library homepage and immediately looked like it might be one of those sweet romances (or at least have the sweet love interest) I’ve been craving. Plus real estate porn from getting to live in a brownstone for practically nothing. (I didn’t factor in there being actual porn, but regrettably...)

The Cottage on Wildflower Lane - Liz Davies. 2020. Available audiobook, cute cover, sweet romance, soothing British narrator.

How I heard of it: Libby

Three Story House - Courtney Miller Santo. 2014.   Who am I to turn down stories about women fixing up old houses??

How I heard of it: library

The Night She Disappeared - Lisa Jewell. 2021. Anyway, back to British thrillers about missing girls. (But also, I know this is a popular author, and the phrase “abandoned mansion” IMMEDIATELY sold me as the one to start on from her)

How I heard of it: Libby, I think?

Dead Lake - Darcy Coates. 2020. The Folsom Ghosts was actually the book that caught my eye on the library website; it looked like everything I like in horror. When I got to the library and found a whole SHELF of identically appealing books, I checked out half a dozen and intended to read them all, but randomly started here. And then I just...didn’t read any others, it was too good.

Check Me Out - Becca Wilhite. 2018. Bought at a book sale a while ago, because G-rated romance featuring a librarian.

Good Omens - Terry Pratchett & Neil Gaiman. 1990. Reread via the new full cast audiobook (listened on Libby), which was the dream/what I wanted the first time around in 2020.

(I forgot to include a pic of this one, whoops)

=========

CATEGORY TWO: YOUNG ADULT

(again in two parts)

99 Lies - Rachel Vincent. 2018. Sequel to (more accurately “the second half of”) a fantastic thriller I read in December.

How I heard of it: Goodreads

Eden Summer - Liz Flanagan. 2016. Bought cheap at a book sale because cool title and cover, plus curiosity about what had happened to her missing best friend.

Spellbook of the Lost and Found - Moira Fowley-Doyle. 2017. In search of an available audiobook, I thought the Irish-accented narrators would be cool, not least because I had looked with interest at this beautiful cover for years at the library and only been put off by the “fantasy” sticker on the spine. This time I actually read the summary, and it sounded a lot more realistic.

The Runaway's Diary - Marilyn Harris. 1971. Intrigued by the publication year + dog + journal format. First came across it on Goodreads in a “what’s that book?” post; was in the mood to order from Interlibrary Loan.

The Rules - Nancy Holder & Debbie Viguie. 2015. Love me a creative serial killer Spooky Book in February.

How I heard of it: Goodreads

Children of the River - Linda Crewe. 1989. Reminded of its existence by Speaking For Ourselves and was frankly stunned to see the library still had a 90s copy in circulation, so I took the opportunity to reread a book I’d liked in high school.

In Summer Light - Zibby Oneal. 1985. Read about it in Speaking For Ourselves, Too; was intrigued by the setting and the focus on art. Lucked out this year finding a copy for sale at the library.

The Golden Window - Ernie Rydberg. 1956. Tripped over it in an antiquarian bookstore on clearance; it seemed like a very darling, nostalgic look at college.

Pretty Bad Things - C.J. Skuse. 2010. Cover model looked like Melissa Benoist and I was under the impression (until I started) that the twins were both girls. Read now because I could -- after 2 years on my TBR I saw the audiobook on Libby (the library doesn’t have a print version).

How I heard of it: Goodreads

A Good Girl's Guide to Murder - Holly Jackson. 2020 (US edition). Good Girl, Bad Blood - Holly Jackson. 2021. As Good As Dead - Holly Jackson. 2022. I finally succumbed to the hype, mostly for the promise of some unusual formatting / mixed media, and had such a good time that I finished the trilogy in quick succession.

How I heard of it: book blogs

The Mall - Megan McCafferty. 2020. Fun cover design/colors + I love malls. And the 90s.

How I heard of it: a book blog

What Waits in the Water - Kieran Scott. 2017. Picked up in a Little Free Library & read immediately because I liked her previous What Waits book.

How I heard of it: Goodreads

Three Desperate Days - Hope Dahle Jordan. 1962. Vintage teen thriller! With a road trip twist.

How I heard of it: used book sale

Lies Like Wildfire - Jennifer Lynn Alvarez. 2021. Wildfire + teen thriller/suspense/mystery = sold.

How I heard of it: library

There You'll Find Me - Jenny B. Jones. 2011. Loved the movie (Finding You), wanted to immediately revisit it in book form.

How I heard of it: I do remember it from the library when it was new

Sisters In Sanity - Gayle Forman. 2007. I like this author and was surprised to see the library had such an old book (old by the library’s standards, not mine). Plus I’ve always been fascinated by the idea of middle-of-nowhere reform camps for uncontrollable teens, ever since I read an article about one in a teen magazine when I was a teen -- not the one this author apparently wrote before writing her book, but very similar.

How I heard of it: library

The Dead House - Dawn Kurtagich. 2015. + Dead House: Naida (not pictured) I was at the library to pick up the book below, when I saw this next to it with a more alluring title/cover/premise and – oh, is that COOL MIXED-MEDIA FORMATTING?? Sold! (then I read the sequel novella on Libby because I Just Can’t Get Enough.)

And The Trees Crept In - Dawn Kurtagich. 2016. Read a post about it on r/whatsthatbook; it sounded so awesomely spooky that I wanted to read it even after being spoiled on the ending.

The Summer of Chasing Mermaids - Sarah Ockler. 2015. Beautiful cover/cover model (the girl, at least); between that and the setting it seemed like a perfect summer read.

How I heard of it: Library

The Evolution of Claire - Tess Sharpe. 2018. In which after losing my mind about Jurassic World: Dominion, I learn that there is officially licensed YA fanfic about Claire Dearing and immediately pterodactyl-screech “GIVE IT 2 ME!”

How I heard of it: Goodreads

Never Coming Home - Kate Williams. 2022. I will apparently read infinity versions of social media influencers being lured to deserted tropical islands for creative and vengeful Murder Reasons.

How I heard of it: library

Hold Still - Nina LaCour. 2009. Continuing last year’s quest to finish reading her YA novels, I decided I wanted to go back and reread this one before my last new one, mostly because there was an audiobook version this time.

How I heard of it: library

Gap Life - John Coy. 2016. Always interested in post-high-school paths that aren’t college.

How I heard of it: library

Property of the State - Bill Cameron. 2016. Always interested in foster-kid stories.

How I heard of it: library

Damselfly - Chandra Prasad. 2018. *New York “Beyonce?” face* MIXED GENDER LORD OF THE FLIES??? (one of the few assigned classics I genuinely enjoyed in high school)

How I heard of it: library

We Are Okay - Nina LaCour. 2017. Working my way through all her books; specifically interested in the idea of best friends reuniting after months of silence (as a person who remained solitary and had minimal contact with her own best friend during the first semester of college).

Rural Voices: 15 Authors Challenge Assumptions About Small-Town America [stories] - ed. Nora Shalway Carpenter. 2020. Interested on sight in the promised settings of small/rural towns.

How I heard of it: Barnes & Noble

Secret Scribbled Notebooks - Joanne Horniman. 2004. The most alluring title in the history of ever. I wanted a peek at what she scribbled in the notebooks, perhaps for notebook-using inspiration of my own.

How I heard of it: OpenLibrary

Meet The Sky - McCall Hoyle. 2018. Natural disaster survival + lost horse?? Two of my favorite things.

How I heard of it: library

Solace of the Road - Siobhan Dowd. 2009. Reread of a book I didn’t remember well because available audiobook + pleasing Irish narrator I figured would lull me to sleep.

How I heard of it: library

This Is Our Story - Ashley Elston. 2016. I keep wanting to read one of hers, and murder mysteries are always fun.

How I heard of it: library

The Tenth Girl - Sara Faring. 2019. IT LOOKED SO SPOOK (plus how often do you find a story set in Patagonia?)

How I heard of it: Barnes & Noble

The Small Crimes of Tiffany Templeton - Richard Fifeld. 2020. Mostly the pretty colors in the cover (see: The Mall) and irresistibly cool title; a little bit because “small town in Montana” setting.

How I heard of it: library

Holly Jolly Summer - Tiffany Stewart. 2018. Bought cheap because cute cover + working at a theme park?? As unusual a theme for YA as the idea of a Christmas-themed town. (Read now because I needed a summery read to match the Indian summer weather.)

How I heard of it: the used book section of my Barnes & Noble

Full Flight - Ashley Schumacher. 2022. Loved her first book, ready to be heart-hurt again.

How I heard of it: Goodreads

Not In The Script - Amy Finnegan. 2014. Randomly browsing at the library and saw...cute romance on a TV show set? I love that.

Drop-Out - Jeannette Eyerly. 1963. Been meaning to read one of hers, this one was on OpenLibrary and I always like mid-century stories about teens getting (or in this case trying to get) married.

How I heard of it: yet another Speaking For Ourselves find. :)

Out of Reach - Carrie Arcos. 2012. Bought on BookOutlet because I thought it was on my TBR (and it wasn’t at my local library), but it wasn’t there when I looked?? Maybe it was at one point and I deleted it. Anyway, still read it because kind of interested in the story of a girl looking for her runaway drug-addict brother on the streets. Also, pretty cover.

How I heard of it: Goodreads

The Distance Between Lost and Found - Kathryn Holmes. 2015. It’s not the right time of year for hiking inspiration, but I didn’t hike much this year after July anyway so I randomly decided I wanted to read about it regardless.

How I heard of it: library

I Am Princess X - Cherie Priest. 2015. Read a post about it on r/whatsthatbook and was intrigued by: the mystery premise, best friends, and curiosity about how the graphic novel panels would be incorporated.

This Is Not A Love Letter - Kim Purcell. 2018. Loved her first book, have long been interested in the setting of this one while leery of a lecture on racism, but to be honest? I can’t say why without spoilers, but the reason I finally read it is that I vaguely remember hearing how this one ended, and I needed a fictional way to process a similar scenario I’d just heard in celebrity news.

How I heard of it: library

Rain Is Not My Indian Name - Cynthia Leitich Smith. 2001. I’ve known about this semi-classic for a while and have been vaguely interested in reading it as an early Native American #OwnVoices; someone bought it out from under me at a book sale, but luckily Libby had an audiobook!

(side note: I am stubbornly keeping this in YA where it was originally shelved at the library, even if they’ve kicked it to middle grade now. Which is fair since it’s short and she’s 14, the Border Age, but I really dislike the more childish new cover image.)

How I heard of it: I don’t actually remember! I may have seen it at the library back in the day, or maybe I read about it in a book about teen books.

All American Boys - Jason Reynolds & Brendan Kiely. 2015. I don’t read a lot about racism or social (in)justice, but something about this one seemed like it would be unusually accessible. I found a copy in a little free library over the summer, finally remembered I had it while cleaning out the car, and just randomly read it.

How I heard of it: Half Price Books

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CATEGORY THREE: CHILDREN’S/MIDDLE GRADE

Ghetto Cowboy - G. Neri. 2011. I’ve always been vaguely interested because of the horse aspect, but I finally made the effort in order to have an idea of the story before watching the movie based on it.

How I heard of it: library

The Tiny Mansion - Keir Graff. 2020. I put ‘mansion’ into the library catalog keywords because of my general interest in those kinds of settings, but I was equally thrilled to find something unique: a middle grade story about a tiny house?? In a forest setting?? YEAH

How I heard of it: library

Bearstone - Will Hobbs. 1989. Reread of a middle school favorite when I saw there was an audiobook.

The Door in the Wall - Marguerite de Angeli. 1949. Reread of a middle school assignment I’d forgotten I ever read (and barely remembered) when I saw there was an audiobook.

Operation Red Jericho - Joshua Mowll. 2005. Operation Typhoon Shore - Joshua Mowll. 2006. Operation Storm City - Joshua Mowll. 2008.  

I read about the first book on r/whatsthatbook and it sounded like it had the coolest art design ever. It did. Even though I didn’t love the actual stories, I had to finish the trilogy just so I had enough context to keep fully enjoying it.

The Secret of Blandford Hall - Margaret Crary. 1963. It was mostly the map of the 4-acre estate in the front that sold me on this quick-n-easy vintage kids’ mystery, tbh. Literally, sold; I paid $4 since library didn’t have it.

How I heard of it: antique store

Bonny's Boy Returns - F.E. Rechnitzer. 1953. Sequel to a dog book I loved.

How I heard of it: bookfinder.com

Breathing Room - Marsha Hayles. 2012. I haven’t read a lot of books about patients this young being treated for tuberculosis in sanitariums. The local MN setting doubled my interest in this one.

How I heard of it: library

You May Already Be A Winner - Ann Dee Ellis. 2017. Bought for $1 mostly due to the very cute cover + trailer park setting.

How I heard of it: dollar store

Maisie Lockwood Adventures #1: Off the Grid - Tess Sharpe. 2022. In which I lose my mind about the found family in Jurassic World: Dominion, go home intending to google for middle grade novels with this exact family dynamic, learn that licensed fanfiction about this actual family already exists, and immediately pterodactyl-screech “GIVE IT 2 ME!”

How I heard of it: Goodreads

A Patron Saint for Junior Bridesmaids - Shelley Tougas. 2016. Bought cheap because cute cover and title with a local setting; I was curious how she would navigate bridesmaid duties as a 12-year-old.

How I heard of it: used book section of my Barnes & Noble

Water Balloon - Audrey Vernick. 2011. 99% because of the summery cover, 1% because she sounded relatable in being left behind by her friends for not maturing fast enough.

How I heard of it: a book blog

Meant to Be - Jo Knowles. 2022. Sequel to a book I didn’t love, but liked enough to want the full story.

How I heard of it: Goodreads

Birdie's Billions - Edith Cohn. 2021. Fantasizing about what I’d do if I found a bunch of money is second only to talking about books in terms of my favorite hobbies. A Goodreads friend read this and I literally went to the library the next day to check it out so I could have full context for deciding what I would do as her.

How I heard of it: Goodreads

All The Things You Are - Courtney Sheinmel. 2011. Found for $1 -- I like this author so I’ll give most any standalone she writes a shot.

How I heard of it: Goodreads

The Echo Park Castaways - M.G. Hennessey. 2019. Cool cover + foster kids.

How I heard of it: used book sale

When I Hit the Road - Nancy J. Cavanaugh. 2020. I love road trip books!

How I heard of it: Goodreads 

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CATEGORY FOUR: NONFICTION

Living Simply: A Teen Guide to Minimalism  - Sally McGraw. 2019. It was slender and brightly colored and I thought it would be fun to fantasize for a bit that I was a teen again, with only one bedroom’s worth of possessions to sort.

How I heard of it: library

Deep in the Heart of Texas: Reflections of Former Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders  - Suzette, Stephanie and Sheri Scholz. 1991.

Obsession with the DCC reality show = time to look for books about cheerleaders’ time there. There didn’t seem to be any from the modern era, so this was as close as I could get to actually hearing about the practices, appearances, etc. (also, someone said it was soapy/scandalous)

How I heard of it: googling keywords

All the Way Home: Building a Family in a Falling-Down House  - David Giffels. 2008.

I will read any memoir you have about fixing up a big ol’ historic house.

How I heard of it: library

Speaking For Ourselves  - ed. David Gallo. 1990. Loved the second volume when I read it last year, finally realized I could get this one through Interlibrary Loan as well. Tell me about prolific authors of teen books and their work from my favorite era of teen lit!

How I heard of it: OpenLibrary

Things I Should Have Said  - Jamie Lynn Spears. 2022. Honestly, I’ve always found her more appealing than her sister, and the world’s Absurd Hatred of this book for daring to exist made me extra-curious about it (and desirous of helping its Goodreads rating), so reading it ASAP became a priority.

How I heard of it: ONTD

Everybody Fights: So Why Not Get Better at It?  - Kim & Penn Holderness. 2021. See “teams I fell in love with on The Amazing Race.” I loved their podcasts about it so I started watching their YouTube videos, found out about this audiobook and was like, “A PODCAST I CAN COUNT ON MY READING LIST??”

How I heard of it: YouTube

UnSweetined  - Jodie Sweetin. 2009. I re-fell in love with her on Beyond the Edge, needed more of her ASAP and then vaguely remembered she had written a memoir.

How I heard of it: just...random celebrity news sites back in the day before I was on ONTD regularly

We Are the Baby-Sitters Club: Essays and Artwork from Grown-Up Readers - ed. Marisa Crawford & Megan Milks. 2021.

I was also the BSC!

How I heard of it: Goodreads

I Want To Be Where the Normal People Are  - Rachel Bloom. 2020. It was at the library and I was juuuust curious enough to check for some Crazy Ex-Girlfriend stories.

How I heard of it: ONTD

Made From Scratch: Discovering the Simple Pleasures of a Handmade Life  - Jenna Woginrich. 2008. I was browsing through old reading lists and remembered how much I liked this one. I wanted to read one of her more recent memoirs, and was bummed to find the library didn’t have any of them – but they still had this one! So I checked it out intending to just skim through it, and ended up rereading cover to cover because fascinating info.

How I heard of it: library

Funny Farm: My Unexpected Life With 600 Rescue Animals - Laurie Zaleski. 2021. Rescue animals!!! At an animal rescue!

How I heard of it: Goodreads (but my dad independently recommended it as well; both my parents liked it actually)

The Horseman's Companion  - Margaret Cabell Self. 1949. An old horse book with a cover illustrated by Wesley Dennis, written in an appealing writing style (basically storytelling)? SOLD.

How I heard of it: used book sale

O.C. Undercover  - Brittany Kent. 2004. I love The O.C. and I will read any ridiculous books you have about it.

How I heard of it: used book sale

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And that’s it; hope you have enjoyed this special 6-months-late edition of the traditional post.