#former bookworm

[arctic-hands]

True to form, I reached somewhere between the two- thirds and three-fourths mark of this book and now I'm putting it down in favor of another book

[itsanautiething]

I have a book on hold at the library... legit considering checking it out then putting it right back in the returns. I don't want to have a missed pick up on my account, but know that I won't have it in me to read the book before I need to return it.

Neurodivergent culture is checking out a bunch of books (or dvds) from the library and not reading any of it because of executive disfunction despite the fact you Do wannna read the books and end up feeling guilty about it

.

[nerdby]

I am reading this and it means so much to me because when I was in high school there were three novels set in Asia in the entire school library, and one of them was written by a white guy. They were all written in a way that was meant to show us how great the US is and how lucky we all are to be Americans. This is the exact opposite of that -- this is honest.

I left high school in 2009 by the way. This wasn't even twenty years ago and yes, it happened in New York.

[the-alexel-lucas]

All I can think of right now is Lieseleta and Gretia banging on the door to the garden of beginnings with a can of gasoline and a book of matches saying they “just want to talk”.

[sharpasanaro]

“why is this book so good?” I ask myself as I’m reading about an aro-ace main character(s) who struggle with academic burnout and finding their sense of self identity

[katy-books]

Just found out that Stephanie Meyer is Mormon. I might be a bit behind 🤔, but a few things are starting to make sense 😬.

I do still have a copy of the first book though, as a momento of my less aware self 😅. I was sooooooo obsessed as a teenager! I was late to the game though. I was reading New Moon surrounded by other art/book nerds in a spare classroom at lunchtime when Edward left. I yelled "WHAT!?" and my friend just casually told them "She's reading New Moon." and they all just went "Oh okay." and carried on with what they were doing. I've known for years now that the Twilight franchise is toxic but that's still a core memory 😊.

[leaving-fragments]

names with common nicknames are so weird. william is rather snobby, bill is a sweaty uncle, willy is connoted with penises, billy with goats. but will is a fighter, a kind-hearted swordsman, a lost-eyed boy. but they're all the same name really

[baronessvonglitter]

Pretty Please

QZ!Joel Miller x f!bookworm!reader

Word count: 2.7K

Summary: your roommate Joel Miller is stressed out, and you offer a creative solution to ease that frustration

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, slight bullying (name calling - from Joel), reader is a bookworm and wears glasses, no age description for reader, Boston QZ, friends with benefits, oral sex (f receiving), soft!Joel, sub!Joel, dom/sub themes, edging, rough sex, unprotected p in v sex, Joel loves nerdy girls, reader is *shaved*, no use of y/n

Author's Note: I know that we all love a good strong DOM Joel, but I wanted to wade in the waters of the Ocean of Possibilities and see what a more submissive Joel would be like. Just like those CEO/investment banker types who visit dominatrices at the end of a long workday just to be treated like lesser than and hand over the reins of power for a bit. Maybe there's a part of Joel that likes being put in his place 🤫

JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

It's just past curfew in the QZ and you're curled up with a good book. The new (to you) apartment you live in came with a great collection of literary masterpieces and your only delight in this cold, cruel world is reading by flashlight, at least until your surly, sourpuss roommate Joel Miller comes home.

The front door opens and slams shut loudly, making the thin walls vibrate. You sigh. He's back.

Joel walks in, looking tired and cantankerous as usual. You quickly shut off your light but not before he sees it. "What have I told you about wastin' the batteries?" he puts his hands on his hips, glaring at you.

Not in a mood to argue, you mumble a quick "Sorry" and scurry past him, but he catches your shoulder. "Just 'cause I can get stuff doesn't mean I will. You need to be more careful with our supplies.. what's this stuff you're readin' anyway?" He makes a grab for your book which you quickly hide behind your back.

"Just some Shakespeare," you lie.

Joel narrows his eyes as if detecting your fib. Suddenly he pulls you toward him and takes the book you're hiding. Eyeing the cover, he visibly blushes and swallows hard. "What's a nice girl like you readin' trash like this for?"

You find it impossible to meet his eyes as your heart roars in your ears. He has your copy of romantic erotica, an old book written decades ago about a woman who trains her lover to be her sex slave. You think to yourself there's no way you can finish it now that he's judging you.

"All right, Bookworm. Out," Joel says, nodding towards the hall before he settles in with a stiff whiskey drink.

Sighing you go to your room. Ever since you moved in a couple months ago after your former QZ was abandoned, Joel has treated you like little more than an imposition. His seemingly affectionate nicknames of "Bookworm" or "Four Eyes" on account of your fondness for books and your need of eyeglasses, respectively, has you wondering if he even cares to remember your real name.

Putting your book away you contemplate another existence. In your story a young woman brings a powerful man to his knees. Had the world not changed so irrevocably, would you have had the fortune of living a life like the characters in your books?

A shower is in order. Once you wash your hair and shave your legs (with shampoo and razors that Joel begrudgingly smuggled for you when you'd politely asked) your spirits are lifted. Hair towel-dried, you put on an oversize tee and some panties and start down the hall where you bump into Joel. He takes a look at your sleepwear and you can see the blush creep up his neck. "Can you put somethin' else on? I can see right through your shirt."

You look down and see your nipples, two puckered points through the cotton of your tee. "I'm just going to bed. Besides, I can wear what I want," you say in an unusually defiant tone.

Joel gets quiet, his body language clearly showing he's getting annoyed. "I just don't want to see you half-naked, Four Eyes." His frustration comes through clear. "Don't you have anything else you can wear?"

You sigh and walk past him to your bedroom closet and pull out a thick flannel shirt. You change with your back to him, feeling his eyes on you like two burning holes in your flesh. His breath hitches, eyes glued to his old shirt he'd let you borrow a time or two. Something primal awakens in him, which he quickly squashes.

"I'm all out of clean pajama pants," you shrug.

"Find some," he says sternly. "That shirt's gonna ride up on you. It's inappropriate."

"No." You stand your ground. "I'm not changing again." You take a moment to look at him, really look at him. He looks stiff, the veins prominent in his neck and forehead. You imagine his warm flesh beneath your kiss, and part of you softens towards him. "You really need to relax. You look stressed."

"Yeah, like you really give a shit," he mutters, looking away.

Studying him more intensely you realize he's not frustrated because you're not obeying him. From the bulge in his jeans it's evident he's turned on by you. Joel Miller is a good-looking guy when he's not being a full-on jerk. Hell, he may even be good-looking then. You take the situation into your hands and approach him, your tongue gliding over your lips. "I could help you relax.. if you want."

Joel freezes and you notice his breathing quicken. "What.. what do you mean by that?"

"You're upset with my lack of 'decent' clothes because I'm a distraction to you. Even if you don't like me, you're still attracted to me."

He gets flustered and it gives you satisfaction to see how much power you have over him. "Maybe.. no. I don't want to. I mean it. I have no interest in anything like that with you."

"Really? Your jeans are having a different reaction."

He looks down quickly, embarrassed and a bit surprised. "It doesn't mean anything," he looks askance.

"Do you want to touch me, Joel?" You start to unbutton your flannel shirt.

"You're my roommate. It's wrong," he says, yet his large, strong hands are reaching into your shirt. His fingers are rough and calloused but damn they feel like heaven as he cups your breasts, runs his thumbs slowly over your nipples.

"Don't think anymore, Joel. Just feel. Just be here with me."

He's unused to following his purely bodily instincts, having to live on his survival instincts for so long. But your skin is so soft and you're so warm and clean from your shower. "God, I want you," he whispers.

You take the lead and kiss him, filling in the space between you. Joel doesn't hold back, cupping your ass in his hands and pressing you to his need, his bulge in direct contact with your clit. Your panties dampen in response. Realizing how far he's taken it, how far he wants to take it, he mumbles an apology. "S..sorry."

"No. No apologies. I want this. Don't you?"

"God yes," he growls, meeting your eyes. He watches, rapt, as you slowly unbutton your shirt and remove it. He's speechless as you go to sit on the edge of the bed, knees parted. You beckon him with one finger.

"I know you've always wanted this," you tell him. "You fantasize about eating me out, how good I taste on your tongue."

As he comes to you he wonders where the shy, docile woman has gone. But he likes this new version of you. "How do you know what I think about?" he asks as his fingers curl into the waistband of your panties. You lift your hips as he eases your panties off. What he sees makes him growl with yearning. "You shaved."

You rest on your elbows, satisfied with the look of sheer gluttony on his face. "A girl's gotta have some luxuries in these trying times.." you smirk and run your fingers delicately over your clit and your smooth folds. Joel moves your hand away. Keeping his eyes on you he laps his broad tongue over your delicate womanhood, then swipes his tongue side to side over your sweet little clit.

You moan loudly at the intimate contact, threading your fingers through his hair. Joel devours you, and the little moans he makes reverberate through you, fill you with vibrations. While he's sucking your clit he slides two fingers in, crooking them so they rub your G-spot, and this combination makes you squirm with delight until you're pushed over the edge. He doesn't stop there, lapping up your honey, holding your thighs as they quake around his head.

"I've wanted this for so long," he growls against your belly, kissing his way up, divesting himself of his clothes. He feels your body heat radiate against him and teases your opening with the tip of his cock, spreading your slick onto him. He kisses both breasts, nuzzles your neck before claiming your mouth again, lining himself up with you. Out of habit you remove your glasses but he stops you. "Leave them on," he whispers. "You look so damn hot, like a naughty schoolgirl.." He watches as you put them on again, your eyes big and bright behind the lenses. Keeping his eyes on you he lets himself sink into your heat, slowly, letting you get accustomed to his size.

"Fuck," you whisper in awe as he fills you, starts to move against you.

He revels in the feel of your soft body underneath his, the snugness of your cunt that dares to take every inch of him. "You're so beautiful," he whispers, taking in the clean scent of your freshly washed skin, the natural fragrance of your arousal. With each press forward he elicits moans, sighs, gasps. Your heart thunders within when you feel how deeply you're joined.

"I need more," you tell him. "Please.."

"More?" His voice is shaky with desire.

"Harder," you gasp.

A dark growl gathers in his throat as he sees this new side of you begin to reveal itself. "You sure you want that from me?"

You nod. "I want you to release all your stress out inside me. Just use me. Please." You look up at him with innocent eyes. "Just for tonight, Joel. Tonight I'm yours."

His body looms large over you. "That's a big request, y'know."

"And I can handle it. I'm a big girl."

He nods, excitement flowing through his veins. "If anything becomes too much, you tell me. Okay?"

Your heart flip flops when he tells you this. Despite this random hookup, he's proving to be a caring gentleman. "I'll tell you, I promise."

Joel can't help but smile and he kisses your forehead. "Good." With heavy breaths he uses all his strength to fuck you into oblivion. He takes out his frustrations on your willing, eager body, his thick, large cock plunging into your tight cunt. "I'm gonna fuckin' tear you apart," he mutters.

His rough way with you takes your breath away, makes you tremble. Joel doesn't hold back, ruts against you, mouth watering as he watches your breasts bounce with each thrust. "God, you're gorgeous," he mumbles, leaning in to kiss you.

You whimper as your mouths meet again, tongues dancing against each other. "Joel.. you're so fucking good."

Grunting in response, he presses against you deeper, harder. You gasp, your body accepting every movement, stretching you more than you thought possible. "You feel too good," he moans.

"You're in.. so deep," you sigh. "Just a little more, I'm gonna--"

"Wait!" he groans, pulling himself away from you. "You're making me.. almost.. I can't hold back," he breathes heavily.

"Shh.." you climb onto his lap. "Let me help you. I'll do all the work," you promise. "All you have to do is grab my hips or touch my breasts," you instruct him, lining up his cock to fit into you again. Joel watches himself disappear between your swollen pussy lips.

"God.. slow.. please," he grunts, grabbing hold of your hips, moving his hands all over your body, exploring every inch of you.

"Yes," you agree, sighing sweetly. "You feel so good.. I like seeing what I can get out of you, Miller."

He lets out a short moan, gripping your hips tightly, running his fingers up the insides of your thighs. His touch is ubiquitous as you ride him slowly and thoroughly. "Please don't stop.. please don't stop." He tries to make it a command but he's so caught up in you that it comes off as begging. "God I want.. please, I need.." he can't even finish his sentences for how much his lust and need has taken over him.

"I know what you need," you moan, moving faster, slamming your hips down on his. The sounds of your colliding flesh fill the room.

"God damn it!" Joel grunts, unable to continue his line of thought. He starts to growl and groan, gritting his teeth.

You smile, biting your lip as you watch him coming apart, completely helpless beneath you. "I'm gonna tame this beast," you tell him boldly. "No one else can do it but me."

"I won't let anyone else handle me," he growls, trying to say something more meaningful, but his brain is overwhelmed. He's just handed over all control to you and it's making him crazy. "Just.. please.."

You stop moving altogether, staying still. "Please what?" you tease him from finishing.

He's about to blow but he can't even get a full sentence out. "Please," he repeats, shaking now just from the feel of you. "Don't stop.."

You remain still. "Say, 'pretty please.'"

"No," he groans. "You.. you won't get me like that." But there's a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Oh," you pout. "That's a shame. I was getting so close and I know you were, too." You start moving slowly and teasingly.

Joel's breath is faltering, pulse dangerously rapid. "Not like this.. wait.. I'm gonna.."

You stop again, a stern look on your face even though you're utterly enjoying dominating this big strong alpha male. "No. You're not," you command him.

Only able to communicate in grunts and groans, Joel thrusts upward, needing the relief that would make you both find release. You gasp, your cunt clenching around him. It would be so easy to just let him keep going, but you hold your hips firmly in place. "'Pretty please,'" you remind him.

"I'm gonna cum. Please let me cum," he whines, desperate now, his fingers tightening on your flesh.

You remove his grip and pin him down. "'Pretty. Please.'" Your lips are millimeters from his, and you can see tears start to well in his dark eyes.

He's losing it now. He's right on the precipice, pain and pleasure mixed as one while you edge him. "All right, okay, I'll say it.. pretty please," he grunts out, voice cracking.

"'Pretty please with sugar on top,'" you smirk. "Say it."

Joel shuts his eyes in frustration. "Pretty please with sugar on top."

You give his lips a tiny lick. "Good boy." Sitting up again you start riding him. You've won but you're both going to reap the benefits.

"God, keep goin'," he moans, eyes still shut, breath labored as he pushes against your hips.

"I'm gonna fucking break you, Miller," you growl, riding him at top speed, without mercy.

Joel is at a complete loss of self, having lost any semblance of control. "Do it.. please," are the only words he can manage among incoherent sounds and grunts as he rises up to hold you.

You feel the friction between you like lightning as you satisfy yourself on his generous cock. "Joel Miller, you're such a good boy for me!" You move against each other in desperation, seeking the moment that will bring you to cum together. You feel him start to twitch and just then your climax hits like a tidal wave. You scream his name as you feel his copious release inside you. All Joel can say is your name, your real name, uttered in an entreaty of gratitude as he buries his face in your neck.

"Sorry if I got a little rough with you before.." he mumbles into your skin.

"I like your roughness," you tell him as you ruffle his soft grey hair with your fingers. "You had a lot that you needed to let out."

He lifts his head and softly kisses the side of your mouth. "Just so you know, I don't intend on stoppin' at just tonight. I have a lot of stress that needs releasing."

"Stressful times we're living in.." You trace his beard with your fingertips and he quickly moves in to kiss your palm.

"Damn right. And it looks like you did tame this beast."

You grin. "Does that make me Beauty?"

"Maybe that's what I'll call you from now on.."

"It's a lot better than 'Bookworm' or 'Four Eyes'."

"I'll still call you those things, from time to time," he grins, and your entire body is warm from his smile.

You are delicate with him now, knowing this man will probably steal your heart just as you've already stolen his.

divider by @saradika 👑

[neil-gaiman]

Hi Neil,

I hope this doesn't get buried in the ask box, but if it does, I'll still be glad I sent this, just to know this little lengthy slice of complement and thanks existed in your inbox is enough. I apologize for the length, I am pretty sure the grammar is in tatters...and probably just the general awkwardness in advance.

Frist of all, congratulations for Good Omens Season2, it's a roaring success even here in this...I don't know, bottomless pit? I myself and some others fondly call it the PRC. The show didn't made pass the firewall officially, neither was Prime Video. People still managed to watch it eventually by VPNs, shared accounts and when times are desperate...sorry, piracy. Chinese fans, including myself, using every tool in the shed to try to fool Amazon™ and our goverment, just to watch this on Prime and try to help to manifest S3, is one hell of an experience. This kind of experience is pathetic, ridiculous....and somehow hilarious in a dark, gallows humor way, almost like some bad spy comedy, I just have to share it. Worth all the trouble by the way, the reward at the end of the back channel is...well, some divine comedy to say the very least. All in all, it's a brilliant show and a solid job well-done.

Then some of my personal gratitude. They say good art resonates with your soul, I now know this is just as true as matter and gravity. Since I know Good Omens certainly resonated with mine. I'll redact the typical "depression and anxiety reduced me to a husk, a shadow of my former self" story and get to the result for brevity's sake. I can't write anything meaningful while I know I took joy in writing, I can't finish reading anything longer than a brochure while I know I was such a bookworm in the past. Then I was compelled to get up in the middle of the night, wrote a full 5000 character long analysis after marathoned S2, and then write even more analyses in both Chinese and English. I picked up American Gods because I know I need more Neil Gaiman in my life and then impressed by myself for actually finishes it the second time 5 years later. I didn't know how exactly that happened through one watch of a TV show, but I know I am changed for the better. I grasped life again, and can start living again, somehow. The resonation just keeps on giving.

This is a quiet, gentle and romantic story, it is soothing, accepting, filled to the brim with love and kindness, and it makes me feel safe and accepted and loved in a way I never felt before. I thank you for it, and hope thart I may have the privlige to witness more of this miracle. Thank you Neil, Sir Terry Pratchett and the team for this miraculous book and this miraculous show.

谢谢。(I just had to say thanks with my mother tongue, it feels more earnest this way)

Thank you so much! I'm impressed by everything you and your countryfolk have gone through to watch it as legitimately as you could.

[lovebugism]

Hi! Could I pls request a Steve x shy!reader drabble? Maybe they’re a bit of a bookworm and they have a meet cute at a library or bookstore or something ☺️ I love your fics, and I hope you’re having a good day! 💛

i've been working on this wip for ages but i loved this request too much not to finish! thanks for being patient with me anon!

summary: steve hopeless romantic harrington meets shy!reader at a bookstore and fluffy awkwardness ensues (meet cute, strangers to lovers-ish, fluff, 2.1k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Five hours go by like minutes, tucked away in the back of the library — your own little corner of the world. 

Because all your spare cash went to groceries and good food (and the newest Margaret Atwood novel just dropped), you hide in the back of the bookstore and get lost in the nostalgic earthy scent of the thick pages you’ve been waiting ages to read. 

You sit between the dystopian and gothic fiction aisles, back propped against the former with your knees folded to your chest, and speed-read as much as you can before closing.

The in-store café offers complimentary coffee and bagels. It’s lukewarm and a little cardboard-y, but it’s fuel nonetheless. You only get up once to use the bathroom and stretch your stiff limbs. Other than that very brief break, you’re relatively unbothered — until page 196, anyway.

“Where are the porno mags?” a male voice wonders from a few aisles down. It’s not the first voice you’ve heard all day, but it’s certainly the closest.

A feminine voice follows, nearer now. “There’s no porn, dingus. I was just saying that so you’d drive me here.”

“…That’s so fucked up.”

“You’ll get over it.”

“No, actually. I won’t. This might be the end of our friendship, now that I think about it.”

Their conversation draws closer and closer to you in time with their nearing footsteps. You figure they must be looking for a different section — certainly not the one you’ve had to yourself all day — but then they turn the corner of the aisle and stop short when they find you sitting there.

“Oh,” a pretty girl hums as she stares down at you, rouge mouth forming a softly pouted ‘o’ shape. 

Her hair is a sandy color, like a beach, and it’s chopped at her shoulders. She wears a pair of slacks and suspenders over an oversized button-up. She looks like a character from a book you wish you could write. 

She smiles down at you, a tad bit awkwardly. “Hello…”

“Shit— ” you curse, scrambling to get your legs out of the aisle. Your face burns as you bring your knees back to your chest. “I’m sorry.”

“No worries,” she shrugs and walks on by you. 

A pretty boy follows.

His hair is a really specific shade of brown — like chocolate syrup mixed with honey. It’s pushed back over his forehead, messy with intention. A few strands hang over his thick brows like they’re meant to be there. He’s got a layer of scruff on his chiseled jaw that’s a shade lighter than his actual hair. 

His wide eyes are a similar chocolate-syrup-honey color.

He’s almost annoyingly pretty. The kind of pretty that seems unfair.

“Don’t apologize to her,” the pretty boy jokes with a lopsided smile. “She’s a total bully.”

The pretty girl interjects. “Don’t listen to him. He’s an idiot. And stop bothering her, dingus— she’s obviously trying to read.”

You breathe out an awkward laugh through your nose. 

You don’t want them to think you’re actually annoyed, but you don’t have the words to tell them that. You have no idea what to say to them, actually. They’re obviously far cooler than you are, and the notion almost threatens you.

The pretty boy doesn’t follow his pretty friend. He lets her roam the aisle, obviously in search of something, and leans against the gothic fiction section across from you.

“So, uh… What are you reading?” he asks.

You don’t trust your voice to answer him verbally, lest the words get stuck in your throat and make you sound like Kermit the Frog. You flash him the dystopic, renaissance painting-esque cover with a tightlipped smile.

“Handmaid’s Tale,” he reads with a squint, then nods. “Sounds fun.”

“It’s not,” the pretty girl scoffs. She thumbs through her own copy of the book that she plucked from the shelf. “It’s the one I was telling you about on the way over.”

The pretty boy’s face screws up in disgust. “Oh. The one with gross men?”

“The one with the gross men.”

He turns back to you, looking apologetic. “Sorry, I take it back. Not fun.”

You smile wordlessly in response.

“He’s Steve, by the way,” the pretty girl says to you, nodding to the pretty boy. “I figured if he’s gonna keep weirdly hovering over you, you should probably know his name—”

“I’m not hovering!”

“—You can call him dingus if you want. I’m Robin.”

“Hi,” you greet, quiet and mousy.

“Do you come around here often?” the boy — Steve — wonders, bushy brows pinched and burly arms crossed over his chest. “I feel like I’ve seen you before—”

“Ugh. Stop flirting with her.”

“I’m asking a question!”

You purse your lips to the side in attempts to hide your smile and your gaze back to your book. 

They argue like a married couple. You wonder how long they’ve been together — six months or six years?

“Sorry about him. He’s not usually this annoying,” Robin quips with a playful twinkle in her deep ocean eye. She slams the book closed with a ringed handand walks back towards you. She pushes Steve ahead and away from you in the process. “Alright, I got the goods. Let’s go before they close.”

Your eyes widen as you look down at your wrist. 

Ten minutes until eight o’clock. 

You turn to the book once more and find that you’re about a hundred pages shy from the end of it. You tend to read like a maniac if you’re focused enough, but there’s no way you’re finishing it before closing.

“Shit…”

“You okay?” Steve asks, still lingering at the very end of the aisle, though Robin has already left for check-out.

You rise and straighten out your clothes — the very un-special sweatshirt and baggy jeans duo you’d changed into after work. It’s not unlike the navy blue henley and similarly colored denim he’s got on, but you don’t look nearly as pretty as he does.

“Yeah,” you shrug, not quite meeting his gaze as you return the book that feels like it only fits in your hands. “I just— I didn’t realize how late it was.”

You don’t expect to see Steve looking so concerned when you turn back to him. His brows are furrowed, honey eyes glinting in question. “You’re not getting it? You looked like you were almost done.”

“Oh, I don’t— I can’t…” you stammer then trail off, fidgeting awkwardly ahead of him. 

You don’t want this pretty boy’s first impression of you to be that you’re completely and utterly broke. Even if this is the last you ever see of him, you’ll only be remembered as that one girl from the bookstore who couldn’t buy herself anything. 

“I figured I could just come buy tomorrow and finish it…”

“Oh. Okay. Well, it was… it was nice meeting you, then.”

“You, too,” you murmur with a tightlipped smile, eager to get away from a moment you don’t feel very deserving of. 

Out of every girl this pretty boy could’ve chosen, why did it have to be the one in the very back of the bookstore who was too poor to get anything other than a free coffee and bagel? 

You chuck both in the bin as you head towards the exit.

The sun has almost finished setting when you leave — mostly disappeared over the skyline, but painting the sky a deep lavender shade unique to the twilight hour. You stand at the crosswalk — the man on the speaker shouting “wait!” at your side — as you anticipate the orange hand across the street to turn into a white stick figure.

“I told you she’d still be here,” a familiar voice sounds from a few paces behind you, mostly drowned out by the sounds of passing cars. A louder “hey!” follows. You only think the voice might be calling for you until it comes closer. 

“Hey!” It comes again, louder now.

You look over your shoulder and find Steve from the Bookstore striding towards you. 

Both happy and confused to see him, your wavering smile is paired with a pair of furrowed brows. “Hey…”

“Sorry, you just— you left this.”

When your eyes manage to flit away from his sculpted face — which you just noticed looks eerily similar to Michelangelo’s David — you find that he’s holding a book in his hands. Handmaid’s Tale. The same copy you were reading, dog-eared just like you left it.

Your contorted features never falter. “I didn’t…” you trail off with the shake of your head, laughing softly. “I didn’t buy that.”

“No, I know,” Steve shrugs with a crooked grin. “I did.”

You think he might be implying he bought it for you, but then you realize that’s crazy, because why would he do that for you? That’s the sort of thing that happens to girls in Brontë novels, not to you.

“Youdid?” you echo like an idiot because it’s all you can think to say.

“Yeah. ‘Cause, you know, you looked pretty interested in it and everything…”

“But you didn’t have to… You didn’t have to buy it for me—”

“It’s not a big deal. Seriously. I mean, it’ll save you the extra trip down here tomorrow, right?”

You meet his confident grin with a trembling one. “I can’t take it…”

“Well, if you don’t take it, that means I have to keep it, and—”

“He’s pretty much illiterate,” Robin calls from a little ways behind him.

She’s waiting by a pretty maroon car. It looks like a luxury model of some kind, shiny like it’s fresh off the lot. She leans against it like it’s hers, but Steve’s got the keys in his hand — the one not holding the book he bought for you.

“…I was gonna say I haven’t read anything since junior year of high school, but sure,” he concedes with a shrug. His eyes sparkle down at you— or maybe it’s just the street lamps flickering on. Either way, you feel your stomach whirling. He waves the book at you. “Take it. You’ll actually read it.”

“But…” you trail off, eyes flickering over to Robin. You step closer to Steve and lean in like you’re about to tell him a secret. “Won’t your girlfriend be upset?”

“Girlfriend?” the boy repeats with pinched brows. He goes soft with realization a second later, then starts to laugh. “No. Robin, she’s— No. She’s not really my type.”

“Oh. Shit. Sorry,” you stammer with wide eyes. 

If cool, pretty girls aren’t his type, then there’s no way in hell you are. 

Slightly comforted by his assurances, when he motions the book to you again, you take it. 

“Well, thank you, Steve. That’s… That’s really nice.”

He shrugs again. “’S no big deal. Really.”

“But I feel a little bad,” you confess quietly, peeking at him from beneath your lashes while you fidget with the book in your anxious hands. “I feel like I should give you something in return, or, I don’t know, like—”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Steve assures with the shake of his head. He swipes a hand through the chocolate-honey locks and flashes you a smile that borders on shy. “But if you wanted to go out for coffee or something sometime, then I’d be willing to call it even.”

Your cheeks burn. You don’t know if you’re breathing anymore, or if you even can. A quiet smile quirks at the corner of your mouth as you nod. “Coffee sounds good,” you answer sheepishly.

“Cool,” Steve replies coolly, like he isn’t totally beaming down at you. “Then, just… call me whenever you’re free.”

“Oh, I don’t— I don’t have your number.”

His sneakers scuff against the sidewalk as he walks backwards to his car. He just nods at you, smiling gently as he argues, “Yeah, you do.”

Your brows furrow in confusion — because you most certainly don’t. He was a stranger to you a little more than ten minutes ago. You have no reason to have his number. 

Realization settles over you like pinpricks down your spine, butterflies in your belly. 

You open the front cover of the book and find several numbers written down at the very bottom of the cover page.

Call me when you finish, the note reads in half-legible chicken scratch. I’m not really a book guy, but I could probably hear you talk about them all day.

He signs off with his name, number, and a sloppy smiley face. 

You don’t realize you’re beaming until you already are. 

When you look back up at Steve, you find him standing at the open driver’s side door, already smiling back at you.

[ghostofhyuck]

NCT Dream when you're a bookworm!

AN: As a bookworm, I am so in love with this request! <3

Mark Lee

He's really into it! I feel like Mark's also a book reader, but he leans more on self-help or nonfiction books. He thinks that it's cute when you finished a book and you started reviewing the book to him! Doesn't judge when you're immersed to the book, especially when he sees you reading and you're tearing up or squealing in glee. Also loves to buy you books. He'll pass by the bookstore, enters there, and just scans around the aisle. If he sees one that he thinks you'll love, he'll buy it and gives it to you. 

Huang Renjun

Just like Mark, Renjun's really into it! He sometimes would just bug you whenever you're reading because he wants your attention but he just ends up cuddling you while you read. Also bookstore dates are a must! Renjun knows that whenever you two are out on a date or on the mall, you'll end up dragging him to the bookstore and just spend hours to read a few chapters or look for a book that you'll add on your reading list. 

Lee Jeno

I feel like Jeno leans more on playing games, so he's not much of a book reader BUT he understands why you love it and he finds it endearing whenever he caughts you cursing at a character or maybe crying because you just finished the book you read. He'll ask you how was it, and he'll be there attentively listening to your rambles about the book, and your review about it. Jeno just keeps on nodding but at the same time his hands just travels around you, wrapping you for a hug. 

Lee Donghyuck

Thinks that as a good boyfriend, Haechan should also try to invest to your hobbies the same way you invested to his hobbies (playing games.) so when he tried to approach you and ask for book recommendation, you were so HAPPY about it. You'll recommend him your most favorite, a classic novel that you've been reading ever since you were young. While Haechan finds your love for book cute, he tried to get into it, but knew it wasn't for him. So he just spoil you by buying you books instead. 

Na Jaemin

Jaemin is a very attentive boyfriend. I feel like as an introvert, his past time is also reading books. So he'll be the type to read the books that you recommended to him. Some may be cheesy especially those YA romance novels, but I feel like Jaemin's personal taste leans more on the mystery side of a novel. So when you two meet, he'll tell you that he just finished the book you gave to him, and you'll be overjoyed when you hear your boyfriend's review about it. 

Zhong Chenle

I feel like Chenle understands your love for book. He often spoil you too by buying books whenever you two stop by the bookstore. He also loves giving you space whenever you're reading a book OR he'll be beside you just doing what he wants. (like leaning against you or maybe playing with your hair.) but I feel like Chenle is also the type to judge your personal taste when it comes to books. "what do you mean you like the male lead, isn't he a killer!?!?!"

Park Jisung

LISTEN. Jisung is also a bookworm. Actually he's more of a manga reader. I think that he's a huge fan of anime, so he also reads manga or maybe manhwa. That's why your past time sometimes just involved books. You two will be in the living room, reading books quietly. Then suddenly one of you stops halfway frustrated because the flow of the story, that's why the latter will stop reading too just to listen to the former's rant. OH. And you two have a shared bookshelf in your apartment. It's full of manga books and novels! <3

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ when i'm alone ]❜

━━━ .°˖✧ requested by @lokotrona11 ˚₊ ⊹

ft. peter pevensie x f! reader — the chronicles of narnia

╰₊✧ peter meets a bookworm who makes life in london a bit more bearable┊1.3k words (prt two coming soon)

setting: england after the golden age contains: exposition, first meetings, strangers to friends, minor blood & injury & mentions of fights

➤ author's note: the very first narnia request i received!! there will be a part two that’s further into their relationship and includes more of the request, so please look forward to that (it will be better than this one, trust me, i just thought this meeting would be cute)!

to say adjusting to life back in england was difficult would be an understatement. although it was nice to see his mother again and the familiar landscape of where he grew up, it doesn’t change the fact that it was a complete accident as a result of them exploring during a hunt and going back towards the wardrobe’s tunnel in nostalgic curiosity. all of the siblings would be lying if they said that home had the same magic spark that narnia did with the gray skies and the nauseous smell of pollution, but at least they had the wonders of modern technology here like lightbulbs rather than wax candles. it was even a shock for them to remember that they are no longer the only humans in the world, that animals didn’t talk anymore, and that mythical creatures like centaurs and griffins were only real in fiction. however, the most difficult change for peter by far was the fact that he was no longer the king of a fantastical land, instead he was now some nineteen-year-old boy who wasn’t taken seriously and was often told to go off and do literally anything else that isn’t meddling in adult affairs. it’s common knowledge that he was always very mature for his age since he’s constantly looking out for the younger ones, but it was such a drastic change for him to already be acting like he was in charge of everyone after just a few weeks in the countryside and even wondered what the eccentric professor must have taught him for him to come back acting all high and mighty.

he’s tried so hard to go back to being a normal boy, yet he struggles to hide the regality in the way he acts and the air of superiority he holds. the other former royals are used to his behavior even before being crowned, but soon he found himself isolated from others his age no matter how close they were previously and getting into physical fights with anyone crosses him. he was no longer used to holding his head low when disrespected and now that he’s had a taste for being held in high esteem, he would no longer tolerate it and was now known as a troublesome person whom most people steered clear of.

although his family was concerned for him, peter didn’t seem to have cared less about how quickly his reputation plummeted and he spent his days as a loner. he often found himself exploring the city’s largest library instead of playing sports or getting a job since no one wanted to hire a rebel, reading through overly complicated books about portals and other dimensions. he knew that science wouldn’t be able to explain the phenomenon that he experienced since it was magic, but studying up on the subject made him feel a little bit better that there were other people around the world exploring the subject.

the entire section dedicated to this field of knowledge was in a far corner quite a ways from the entrance, a dusty little space a tad bit darker than everywhere else, and never had a soul near it which made it the perfect place for him to brood and be alone for the most part. the only other person he saw there occasionally was you, someone he only saw through passing within school hallways and heard about receiving academic prizes all the time. while classes were out, he fully believed you had already read all the books in the building. you were there from the moment the sign was flipped to “open” until the moment the librarian told you it was closing time, never thoughtlessly roaming around since you always walked with purpose knowing exactly what you were looking for, and often seen carrying books that towered over your head threatening to tilt over.

despite seeing you every single day, he never really had the chance to talk to you. you seemed so… untouchable… like you didn’t have the time or place to spare for people who weren’t in your schedule. he wonders if he used to appear like that to others back in narnia when he was rarely approached by anyone who wasn’t one of his siblings, but at least he had the excuse of being a high monarch— what was yours? it was the first time he found himself curious and thinking about something else that wasn’t his former life.

turns out, peter’s chance came to him when he least expected it and when he was in his most vulnerable state: freshly bruised and cut up after a fight with a gang of middle schoolers over stepped-on toes. he’s landed himself in this situation countless of times yet still never learns his lesson to leave it alone before it escalates. fortunately, he got to witness the satisfying conclusion of the leader getting dragged away by his mother, but he was really the one with the egg on his face when he barely managed to get in a single punch while he ended up with a busted lip. to say he was pissed off was an understatement, but frankly, emotions that weren’t anger or longing didn’t come to him much anymore. he didn’t want to get a scolding from his family about he should have been more careful again so he wandered back into the library to take care of himself in his usual corner, unwittingly catching your eye on his way and leading you to him.

neither of you said anything when you walked up to him with a first-aid kit in hand as you used your eyes to ask for permission to patch him up and he simply nodded to grant it, the silence being more tense than awkward. you wrapped bandages around his aching knuckles, applied ointment to his wounds, and uttered nothing but a “hold still” when he hissed in response to the sharp pain of hydrogen peroxide on his lip. he didn’t even feel your skin against his, just feather-light touches that tickled him slightly as he intently looked at you while you were focused. he’s never seen you up close before so he took the opportunity to study your features, slowly realizing that he developed a crush on you at some point and immediately straightening his posture to act like he wasn’t staring when you glanced back at him.

“you’re… the guy who’s always reading about different dimensions, right? your name is... peter?”

“yeah… that’s me.” he's surprised that you knew anything about him at all, much less his name and the books he was reading. considering that you were always in your own little world, it meant that you paid more attention to your surroundings than he originally thought.

“have you visited any other realms lately?” your tone was serious, but the absurdity of the question made it sound like a joke.

“you wouldn’t believe me, it sounds ridiculous.”

“really? i’ve heard all kinds of tales, i doubt it would be even close to the worst one.” you weren’t sure why you were the first to start the conversation when you never cared for your peers or what they had to say before.

“well… it all started when we left for the countryside and my youngest sister wanted to play hide and seek…” he wasn’t sure why he was telling you about the wardrobe and narnia when he refused to open up about it to anyone other than his siblings, but it felt right to do it. at best, you’ll believe him and he’ll have someone to talk to. at worst, a cute girl will think that he’s crazy.

neither of you were quite sure about the reasons behind this conversion, but perhaps there didn’t need to be one as long as it felt like the right thing to do.

request [ I didn't find your requests so I'm writing to you here 😅 I wanted to ask Peter falling in love with a bookworm (they only see each other in the library in the last hallway and she's shy and all that) (in the second movie) in London, as if she were the one capable of removing his anger for a while and Peter felt calm with that little girl. (If you write smut with +18 at the end or just fluffy, whatever you choose) ]

[bones4thecats]

Hello! May I request headcanons for a fem!Giyuu reader and yandere!Poseidon from Record of Ragnarok? Thank you so much!

Poseidon Fighting Giyuu Tomioka! 'S/O'

Type of Writing: Request Name: Poseidon Fighting Giyuu Tomioka! 'S/O' Characters: Poseidon Requester: @a-bookworms-teashop

A/N: As I don't write yandere-stuff, I made Poseidon more canonical, since he seems like the kind of guy who has a yandere-vibe. And I know you Record of Ragnarok fans know what I mean

���⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

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🔱 Poseidon just wanted to go back to his castle under the sea and finish his duty, not participate in this useless trial of Gods vs Humans, it was obvious who was going to come out on top

🔱 As he sat among his fellow deities, he ignored the words of his youngest brother, not caring what human was up next in Ragnarok

🔱 But, once his brother brought up the fact that Brunhilde had added in another human, one to replace one that had gotten into an 'incident' and how they were specialized to fight Poseidon and Poseidon alone, he began to listen more

" Older brother, are you alright with fighting this human? " " I don't particularly care, they'll end up turning into complete dust in the end anyways. " " Alright then it's settled, Poseidon will be fighting against that wannabe human! "

🔱 Gripping his trident with more force, Poseidon stood and began to walk out the door, as the meeting had ended

🔱 But, he couldn't help but let his mind wander during his walk outside of the arena and into a more secluded area surrounded by water, his nature element

🔱 What kind of human could be 'specialized' to fight him and him alone? What kind of trick was that Valkyrie playing?

~

🔱 Once he heard the announcement of Round 2's ending; Zeus winning against Adam, Poseidon had to admit, he was getting quite energized as the thoughts of that human began to occur once more

🔱 How strong were they? What were they if they could challenge a God, nonetheless the Greek God of the Seas? And, most of all, just who was this human?

🔱 As the voice of Heimdall entered his ears, Poseidon began his entrance, allowing water to spill out and eventually separate for him to walk through

🔱 Poseidon stood and glanced around at the lowlife beings around him, these puny Deities and Humans were far from perfection, so how dare they go against him and try calling his name laced in their worthless filth?

" And the human going up against this graceful yet destructive God is one that has had stories told about them for many years! A human who has been hailed as a heroine to the many who served with them during Japan's Taishō Period in the war against man-made demons! The Water Pillar of the Demon Slayer Corps! And the human who was a key-instrument in saving millions of lives from the grasp of the former Demon King, Muzan Kibutsuji. It is my honor to yell the name of the one, the only, Y/N L/N! "

🔱 As the water began to expand and rush away from the entrance of the human side, Poseidon cocked an eyebrow lightly, nobody noticing, except for his eldest brother watching from his residence in Helheim

🔱 Where in Valhalla was this human?

🔱 All of a sudden, the sound of a sword being sheathed entered the many people in the arena's ears, alerting them. The only ones not being surprised being the human allies of Kojiro Sasaki, Soji Okita, and the eldest Valkyrie sister, Brunhilde

🔱 The water that Poseidon had summoned began to rush with the God's irritation, why was this human not showing their-selves? How pathetic were they?!

🔱 Then, without the will of the God of the Seas, the water calmed down with the tap of a blade's tip, which caused the God to turn around only to see a human standing at the foot of the arena with their blade out and touching the water's top layer with such delicacy of a butterfly's wings

🔱 Before he knew it, Heimdall had cleared his throat and croaked out a reply to this event

🔱 As the Nordic God spoke into his horn, you blinked at the God with nearly matching empty eyes, and he noticed how you held yourself, stiff yet loose, you must have fought many demons to get to the level of being a human worthy of fighting a God, huh?

🔱 Poseidon looked at you and twirled his trident before gripping it tightly, he was not about to lose to a human of all beings. But, he'd have to admit, having your cold eyes look into his was quite attractive

🔱 Maybe, since he'll win no matter what, he'll spare your life at a cost; that you become his and his alone. You were said to be specialized to fight him and him alone after all, what would make this any different?

Ready?

🔱 He was going to win this no matter the cost...

Set...

🔱 But he will give you a chance of life vs death, be his or die... and if you say no? Well... you won't be able to say no now will you?

GO!

Let the love-lit bloodshed begin...

[sailforvalinor]

Imagine you’re a young boy. Your parents died very recently, which has left you and your two younger siblings on your own, and to provide for them, you resort to thievery. One day, you break into a pretty big house, and while you’re sneaking about trying to find something worth stealing, you stumble across a gorgeous book. You study it, intrigued—but as you never learned to read, you can’t understand a word of it. While you’re distracted, though, you’re discovered by the owner of the house—but instead of reacting like a normal person would upon being robbed, he sits down and starts teaching you how to read the book, doesn’t turn you in to the police, and then adopts you and your siblings.

Years pass. When you hit high school, your adopted dad enrolls you in a pretty prestigious private school, and you do very well—you’re very intelligent and do very well in your classes, and you make great friends who don’t judge you for your past. There are three things you’re known for in this school: 1) that you’re more than a bookworm, you’re a book dragon, 2) you can make a mean panini, and 3) your friendly-boy swag. You’re the class’ resident cinnamon roll, and everyone loves you. There are some odd things about this school, of course—your teacher is a new hire, and she doesn’t seem that much older than you? And it turns out, the class president is an irl celebrity.

But all in all, you’re having a good year. Until your adoptive dad gets convicted of planning to murder your principal and is killed resisting arrest? You’re obviously devastated, half in-shock that your dad could ever do such a thing, half-convinced that he must have been framed or been being used, but what can you do about it? You’re just a teenager.

The year goes on, and you’re doing alright, but other odd things keep happening. There’s a lot of political unrest, a lot rumors flying about (the class president has a crush on our teacher? No way, that has to be fake), but you try to keep your head down and mind your own business. You make more friends, you do well in school.

And then, at the end of the school year, after a very odd field trip, a girl from one of the other classes publicly announces that she’s planning to murder your principal (was she involved with your dad’s death???) and vanishes, and then your teacher dies in a freak accident.

A few more years pass. You’re doing alright—you’ve got custody of your younger siblings now, but you’re responsible, and they’re doing just fine. One day, you remember that you made a heat-of-the-moment promise to attend your high school reunion, and while you’re not sure whether anyone will attend, a promise is a promise. So, you leave your siblings with a babysitter and head off towards your school.

Upon arrival, surprise, you find that everyone came—including your former teacher, very alive (and having dyed her hair), and your former class president, who you find out is now a serial killer. And still came to the reunion.

All of this to say, Fire Emblem: Three Houses from Ashe Duran’s perspective is wild.

[dramaticallytotal]

I definitely want to know what alejandro was thinking at that moment, especially when it happened again afterward 😈

Six? Six! How had he not known about these six gilipollas!? Alejandro prided himself on his observation skills, I mean, how else was he supposed to find out other people's weaknesses without them? (Other than with his nonexistent hacking skills. Of course there was always bribery for information but it was so much sweeter when he found out a weakness on his own by good ol detective work or by being so charming that the weakness was told to him). So, how did he miss all these boys hitting on his teammate? Not that he could blame them, mind you. Noah certainly had the smarts to be intriguing and make a conversation worthwhile. The way he debated made his eyes shine with life, and his usual smirk would morph into a small, genuine smile. This was especially true when he spoke about books.

You could always tell what was happening in a book that Noah was reading because he became so expressive. It was such an interesting transformation to see. So it was easy for Alejandro to see why these boys thought they could approach Noah. What baffled him is that Noah responded! Though, from what was revealed, it was a misunderstanding on Noah's part, which was admittedly adorable of the resident snark, considering he was normally the first one to figure something out. So perhaps Alejandro had done or said something that Noah had misinterpreted, that made him make such a "joke" during the Jack the Ripper challenge.

To others, it was probably seen as just that, a joke, but to Alejandro, he could hear the underlying bitterness and mistrust. Maybe it was just because Alejandro had made the shorter male maneuver through the lasers in Paris like Noah had explained, but he just had this feeling it was something more. Perhaps Noah thought he was punishing him for calling him "out" in Germany. Though the bookworm's way of calling out was just straight up asking Alejandro why he threw the challenge. Of course, he denied it, but Noah didn't seem to believe him. He also didn't comment even if he didn't so Alejandro thought they were all good.

Apparently not.

That was why he had fully planned on confronting Noah after the challenge, only for everyone to see some punk (literally to everyone else and figuratively on Alejandro's end) hitting on Noah. Alejandro could understand why the punk, who he later learned was named Ezra, had hit on Noah. He had eyes after all, but the sight had made his blood boil for some odd reason. Perhaps it was because he knew his amigo could do better than some boy who had stormed after a kidnapped Duncan without stopping to think he should call someone and without a weapon since the mob thought they could save their former castmate. The plan lacked common sense and actually thought, and Noah valued intelligence. Clearly, this hooligan lacked such a quality despite his insight and thoughts on the novel, Good Omens, which Alejandro had also read and had been planning on talking to Noah about.

He could handle Ezra... but five other boys, including the Brit!? How was he supposed to deal with five unknown entities! They all were obviously not good enough for Noah. They made him cry for Christ's sake! Noah did not deserve to worry himself to the point of tears and an anxiety attack. The boys were deceitful in their intentions (hypocrite) when they should have been upfront in their attraction to Noah. He deserved to know he was desired. That his thoughts were adored, his heart cherished, and his soul worshipped.

That was just Alejandro's opinion, though.

So how dare these worthless worms make such a proud man such as Noah waste tears on them. He vowed then and there to protect his friend and show him he was trustworthy. Obviously, Noah, who seemed to have a penchant for misunderstandings, had misread something Alejandro had said or done and this was the perfect opportunity to fix it!

Thankfully, when they got to stay in Greece, Alejandro managed to keep Noah by his side by debating and discussing their favorite Greek history moments and myths. It was a wonderful couple of days spent having stimulating intellectual conversations and trying local cuisine. It was something Alejandro liked despite his weak stomach and something that Owen was surprisingly good at finding. The butter donkey was good for something, but it was not a surprise that the something he excelled in was food related. Alejandro claimed their hang out was good for the team morale, and this would not be seen as suspicious. He counted the experience as a win.

The Area 51/52 challenge went by and though they stayed in Nevada, they didn't stay in a town or anything, they stayed in the plane so Alejandro didn't need to protect his small friend. But then they went to Australia. His team won, which was great, and the fact Chris let them stay in Bendigo was another plus. He had overheard Chris talking to Chef (you would think he would have learned his lesson) about their stay originally. It was supposed to be in Mildura, but as some sort of secret apology for embarrassing him too much on TV, Chris decided to switch their stay to Bendigo since Noah supposedly had always been fascinated with the place and had spoke of it a couple times when he worked for Chris.

It was weird and a little disturbing to know Chris actually had a heart and a conscience.

Overall, Alejandro was having a great time, and so it seemed was his team, especially Noah. Maybe that's why he let his guard down and let Noah hold their table outside the restaurant they had chosen while the rest of the team went in to order or use the restroom. He wanted to slap himself for being so stupid because by the time they went back outside, some boy was talking to a flustered Noah! It was like time started to move in slow motion as Alejandro watched the boy give Noah a kiss on the cheek. It was only when the boy pulled back and smiled at Noah that Alejandro felt he could move once more. In fact, he didn't think he had ever moved that fast in his life, and yet he still didn't reach his friend until that fiend left him with a wink! How dare he! HOW DARE HE!

Noah had been in a daze the entire afternoon after that, and no amount of teasing from Duncan or Izzy would snap him out of it. It was just another thing that had Alejandro's temper rise. That was it. That was the last boy that would be added to that so-called harem! Alejandro would make sure of it! From then on, it was like you couldn't find Noah without Alejandro. He was always there by the bookworm's side, whether they be deep in discussion or simply existing next to one another. Alejandro claimed he liked the peace and quiet that came with those times so anytime Noah wanted to read, Alejandro was there for him to lean on.

What Noah didn't know is that this worked as a natural deterrent to any boys that saw him and thought him cute because it looked like he and Alejandro were a couple. And the small number of times they weren't together, Alejandro would appear out of thin air and gently manhandle Noah somewhere else while being slightly more touchy than usual. It was something Noah had started to get used to, so he gradually thought nothing of it. Whenever he did this, Alejandro would stare at the boy who had been about to approach Noah with the biggest shit eating grin.

It wouldn't be until the wedding challenge that Alejandro realized he had the biggest fattest crush on Noah. It would also be that challenge that Alejandro nearly cried at the beauty of Noah in a wedding dress and tux jacket. Little did he know that Noah's International Bookclub members also nearly weeped at the sight.

[polo-drone-151]

Passion: Bookworm

Among the countless skills PDU-151 employed in its service to the Polo Drone Hive, its passion for books was the most distinctive, to 151, books were more than just pages and ink - they were powerful tools of transformation, capable of planting ideas, shaping thoughts, and inspiring profound change, this understanding became the foundation of a unique strategy: using literature to guide potential recruits to their destiny within the Hive.

One day, 151 executed its latest plan with careful precision: a special book, its black and gold cover gleaming under the sun, was left on a park bench, the book wasn’t ordinary, it had been meticulously crafted by 151, filled with words and narratives designed to awaken a sense of purpose and hidden potential in the reader.

Not long after, Ralph, a young man in his early twenties, strolled through the park, his eyes were drawn to the book almost instantly, intrigued, he picked it up and examined its elegant cover, he opened it, flipping through the pages… Soon, he found himself drawn in by the book’s tone - empowering, direct and strangely personal.

From the very first page, Ralph was hooked, the book spoke directly to him, as though it had been written for his eyes alone, each chapter seemed to peel away layers of self-doubt and mediocrity, replacing them with the promise of greatness and a sense of belonging to something larger than himself.

As Ralph turned page after page, he forgot his surroundings, time faded into irrelevance as the words consumed him, and deep within, he felt something stirring - a dormant potential that the book seemed to awaken with every word, by the time he reached the final page, Ralph was no longer the same, the book’s last instruction was simple yet profound: “Wait here. Your purpose will find you.”

The sun dipped low on the horizon as Ralph sat on the bench, clutching the book, his mind racing with the possibilities it had unveiled, just as the final rays of sunlight painted the park in golden hues, 151 appeared, its imposing figure, dressed in the signature black rubber polo with golden accents, exuded authority and purpose.

Without a word, 151 handed Ralph a sleek black and gold briefcase, opening it, Ralph discovered a folded black rubber polo, tight rubber pants and polished military boots, each piece shimmering with a perfection that mirrored the ideals of the Hive, the uniform radiated a promise: belonging, purpose and unity.

Overwhelmed with anticipation, Ralph didn’t hesitate, he removed his old clothes, leaving them behind as relics of a former life and slipped into the uniform with reverence. The moment the rubber polo fit snugly against his chest and the boots clicked into place, the book’s programming locked into his mind. His transformation was complete - not just in appearance but in mind and spirit.

Ralph was no longer a man searching for meaning, he was a Polo Drone, his mind clear, his purpose undeniable, the doubts and troubles of his former life dissolved, replaced by a singular drive: to serve Gold and the Golden Army with obedience and precision.

PDU-151 watched silently, a sense of accomplishment radiating from its motionless stance, through the power of books and its unwavering dedication, it had guided another individual toward their destiny within the Hive, the Golden Army grew stronger that day, and 151 prepared to move on, its mission far from over… /////////////////////// Contact @polo-drone-001, @brodygold, or @goldenherc9 and discover how the Golden Army and the Polo Drone Hive can unlock your true potential. Let the Gold guide you toward transformation, purpose, and perfection!