#good night story time

[candycottonchu]

[everwalldigan]

Random reporter: Mr Wayne, do you think men can get pregnant?

Bruce: uh, I am.

Reporter: *laughs* you are?

Bruce, offended: how about a congratulations instead of laughing at me?

Reporter, starting to get flustered: oh, um congratulations, I’m sorry… so how far along are you?

Bruce: two weeks.

Reporter: oh, uh… how did you know you were pregnant after two weeks?

Bruce: my stomach was growling more than usual, plus me and him had sex so that’s probably where it came from…*points towards Clark across the room*

Reporter: did you take a pregnancy test?

Bruce: uh, no?

Reporter: then how do you know for sure?

Bruce, smiling condescendingly: because I have a kid, I know how it feels like and it was like this. Where did you think Dick came from?

Reporter: But you took him in after his—

Bruce, putting his hand on the reporters shoulder, concerned: There are pictures everywhere of the day of his birth. Are you feeling well? You look a little pale, maybe you should take an early night…

[deoidesign]

someone asked me what if adam and steve switched vampire and werewolf...

And then since my monsters are purposefully not much visually different because of metaphors, I went more traditional vampire and werewolf...

and then I got carried away...

[kacievvbbbb]

You know what? the best supernatural spin off would have nothing to do with the Winchesters and instead would be about Samuel motherfucking Colt because dude absolutely had something going on. And was tripping absolute balls all the fucking time

Dude not only builds a literal kills almost all gun (that no one knows how it works exactly), he also built a fucking devil’s gate and the series of railroad tracks that formed a giant devils trap in the middle of fucking nowhere Wyoming that was somehow also a great fucking hotspot to talk with Lucifer in the cage. Why the fuck would he build a devil’s gate and then the devil trap protecting it? Why could this dude not be normal? Not to mention He also fought a Phoenix!!! A Phoenix! The only Phoenix that has ever been reported to exist and whose ashes are the only thing that can kill the literal mother of all monsters. Which he somehow mails to Sam and Dean in the future using a phone from several years in the future that he literally just got earlier that afternoon.

Dude was on some serious shit. Man was definitely receiving the most violently random prophetic visions from god. Dude literally went, it came to me in a dream and built a weapon that’s literally still confounding people generations later and would function as a key to a fucking devils gate that would literally be the first step in so much shit going down in so little time generations later . Wouldn’t have even surprised me if they also said he was responsible for Ruby’s knife.

He also, most importantly, is from the wild wild fucking west!!! How cool would a show about that be? A fucking genius inventor hunts monsters in the Wild West while some being he knows nothing about but deeply suspects is giving him blueprints for big, wild things and weapons for how to stop them, or at least slow them down.

[somegrumpynerd]

Everyone sleeps in dadmare's bed for the night

Well, almost everyone sleeps

[laurapetrie]

The wedding, when it came, had a fairy-tale quality, in this very remote church, with no electricity, and it happened after dark. It felt quite otherworldly, very dreamlike. - John Perry Barlow

Carolyn was stunning and very stark — as if the few lights were just for her, with the rest of us in darkness and her betrothed's face leaning into her halo. When John fumbled with the ring, Carolyn gently put her hand on his shoulder and laughed. The moment that she put her hand on his shoulder to reassure him that everything was okay, that was quite a loving subtlety. But that was her. - Billy Noonan

It was an incredibly magical moment. I saw it as it was unfolding, almost in silhouette. It was virtually dark outside. John reached for the hand of Carolyn; she was caught off guard. I'm walking backwards in the light rain at dusk, and John does this amazing gesture, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. It was lovely, the spontaneity of that gesture. - Denis Reggie

[midnightclover]

Summon Night: Swordcraft Story (ATLUS, 2003)

[onebigmanwhor]

when the when they

[fbfh]

I want to fuck Daryl Dixon so fucking bad. y'all don't even understand the primal need I have to milk him dry, suck his soul out through his heavy uncut dick. and I KNOW the feeling is mutual because we all know Daryl's the typ to suppress and ignore his emotions, right???? which means OBVIOUSLY he'll be too focused on staying alive and keeping the group safe to even think about sex, too exhausted from fighting walkers and scavanging supplies, just making it through the day to even whack one out. and all of that sexual frustration just builds and builds and builds deep in his subconsious until one day he's out hunting and comes across you. he doesn't expect to see someone alone and without a group, especially not such a hot piece of ass like you. he's older, you know there's an age gap between you, but you are both adults, and only meeting for the first time now. you justify this to yourself, mentally trying to figure out if anything between you would be legally or ethically yucky. you decide that it's fine - especially given the state of the world - to indulge your feelings.

Daryl brushes it off for as long as he can. He ignores the way you look at him, and all the dreams of you sneaking into his tent and riding him until you squirt, he ignores the stray thoughts that leave him a little bricked up happening more and more. He ignores it until one night, you actually do sneak into his tent. He thinks he's dreaming at first, seeming as gruff and chilly as ever, but you don't care. You just crouch next to him and hug him, hiding your face in his bare chest.

"I... I had a bad dream." your words are simple, but they really speak volumes. He knows first hand how bad the nightmares can get, and your skin feels so nice on his. he's so touch starved that he doesn't even realize why he's pulling you into his lap, holding you close and rubbing your back, he just knows it feels... really good. like, really really good. so he tries to calm you down and help you settle back down for sleep, laying you down next to him. you cuddle up to him so painfully close that he doesn't know what to do. You wrap both your legs around one of his thighs, squirming a little as you settle down.

"'m sorry for keeping you up so late," you say, pouting up at him and he is SO close to folding. he has maybe one or two scraps of self control that are fully stripped away when you squirm some more, rocking your core against his thigh, and he feels it. He feels the slimy, slippery wet patch growing wetter and wetter as you "get comfortable".

"Do you think there's something that could... y'know... tire me out a little?"

and he folds. of COURSE he folds, anyone would with you being all cute and sweet to them, ESPECIALLY someone whose heavy, full balls are bluer than the lonliness and pain in his heart. he uses his last ounce of self control to say your name like a warning, but it only serves to make your pussy throb against his leg - something he definitely does not miss.

"You're playing a dangerous game here, kid..." he warns. You inch closer and closer to him, batting your eyes up with a cute little pout.

"'m not a kid," you protest. your eyes flick between his eyes and his lips, and you can't stop your hips from grinding down onto his thigh. "...you want me to prove it?"

but with how fast he flips you over and pins you down and folds you in half, you really don't have time to prove anything.

[dawnthefluffyduck]

Crazy issues that come up when a character is written a little too well

[oldmama]

[wordswhisperinthedark]

I think the biggest reason why the long forms are my favourite sfth thing is that as someone who spends ages writing because the words won't go the way I want immediately, it's amazing to see a group conjure up such wonderful and well-written stories with beautiful arcs and conclusions (plus the healthy doses of chaos), and well fleshed-out characters in the space of like, 30 minutes or less?? On the spot?? And with other people all throwing their ideas in at the same time?? *mind blown*

[rookinthecrownest]

Bedtime Stories For a Demon, Night 3.5: The Wigmaker Job (Lucanis x Rook Fanfic)

** Major Veilguard Spoilers ahead (srsly don't read if you haven't finished the game)

There was something amiss with Madeleina Mercar, and he wasn’t going to pry.

But a small part of him wanted to. Almost ached to know what she was doing, locked in either her room or the occasional visit to the infirmary. The infirmary is what he’s more curious about. Within hours of arriving at the Lighthouse he had scoped the entire place out- learned all the entrances, choke points, best defensible positions, etcetera. Within a day he has a fully fleshed out mental map of the grounds. He had peeked in the infirmary so as take to stock of all the supplies there. As far as he can tell, only Rook has ever stayed in that room.

She only comes out for brief periods of time to take a small meal from the dining hall back to wherever she decides to isolate herself. He tries to make sure there’s always something on the table for her to grab, if she refuses to come to dinner.

After they returned from Treviso, Madeleina had gone to Minrathous to check on Neve and the Shadow Dragons. Neve, understandably, had elected to remain behind and assist with the Shadow’s effort to rebuild. Between the dragon, the blight, and the Venatori, they had been decimated. He shudders to think about what the damage to Treviso might have looked like if she had chosen differently.

But the fact is, Madeleina hasn’t been the same since her return. Was it seeing the blight devour Minrathous? The Venatori taking control of the city? All of the above, or something else?

She made a quick appearance to the group after speaking with Solas, to tell them they needed a Fade expert and a Dragon Hunter. Both Bellara and Harding had leads, but it would take time to organize a meeting with either specialist. After that, her appearances become increasingly rare.

There’s a sort of hollowness in her gaze, whenever he can catch a fleeting glimpse of her. She won’t make eye contact for long, with anyone. Dark circles begin to rim her lower eyelids, mirroring his own.

She’s not sleeping.

Lucanis is certain he’s not the only one that’s noticed or concerned.

Bellara, tries and fails, to bring her out of the cocoon by offering to read together. Harding checks in on her, only to be met with a few polite words and a dismissive hand wave. Neve isn’t around to strong-arm her into snapping out of it. Davrin is too new to the team to broach the delicate situation around their leader.

And here he is, in the pantry, sitting on his cot. Doing nothing to help.

But what can he do anyway?

He doesn’t feel like he is any more equipped to breach whatever wall she’s put up any more than the rest of the group. Perhaps even less so. A year in the Ossuary had not exactly done him any favours in learning to deal with the emotional needs of others. His own were in a constant state of turmoil he can barely parse out. Some nights it grew increasingly difficult to tell where he began, and Spite ended.

On the nights that Madeleina sits with him by the fire, telling him a story with her magic, the lines between them stay a little sharper.

The demon bristles behind his eyes. He ignores it.

Compelled to break this inertia, he stands from his cot and makes for the door.

There is one thing he’s curious about that he thinks he could find the answer to. Lucanis decides that’s as good a place to start as any.

~*~

He finds Lace Harding tending to her garden.

Spearmint, he notices, growing in a neat row at the edge of the plant bed. He remembers picking that up with Madeleina when he showed her around the Treviso market. Remembers the awe on her face, and the warmth that settled in his chest at seeing someone appreciate his home like he did. The way she curiously picked at everything the vendors were selling, pet the stray cats, and clapped for street performers before tossing them a sovereign.

Warm glow of lanterns like bolts of light in her hair, the redness on her cheeks, her smile and –

Lucanis clears his throat, “Harding”

Lace perks up at the sound of her name and turns to face him. She’s surprised at first, but her face settles into an uneasy smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Not like it does when Madeleina is around.

“Oh, Lucanis” She pushes up on her thigh to stand, before wiping her gloves on her shirt. “Hi!” Her tone is light, but he doesn’t miss the undercurrent of weariness in her voice.

“I hope I’m not interrupting – “

Harding cuts him off with a dismissive wave, “No, not at all, just doing a little gardening. How can I help?”

“I wanted to ask you something …” He quickly adds, “About Rook”

Harding frowns. She motions to the stool across from her bedroll. Lucanis hesitantly takes a seat, and Harding settles herself on the bedroll.

“Yeah… she hasn’t taken losing Minrathous well.” She starts, crossing her legs.

“It’s not about that, actually. Although I suppose it may be related”

Harding tilts her head, now more curious than uneasy. He takes it as an invitation to continue but fumbles on how to word his question.

“Back in Treviso” he begins, lacing his fingers together. “Rook mentioned she had to check in with someone. Someone named Varric …”

At the mention of his name, Harding’s entire demeanour changes. Her spine straightens, and there is something flickering behind her eyes- an emotion or a memory he’s not privy to. Her mouth sets in a thin, hard line.

“Varric…” she repeats slowly. She sighs, her shoulders sinking with some invisible weight, “Right, you don’t know”

Lucanis gives her an expectant look.

Harding’s gaze drifts towards her lap. Her voice is low, and quiet.

“Varric…” She begins, then pauses. Like she’s not sure where to take her explanation next.

“Varric and I were in the Inquisition together. We’d been hunting Solas for the last ten years. We were the ones who recruited Rook out of the Shadow Dragons and started this whole…thing…” She gestures vaguely in the air, before continuing.

“You already know that we interrupted Solas’ ritual to tear down the Veil.” Harding’s hazel-green eyes meet his, and they’re glassy with tears just waiting to spring forth. “What you don’t know is that Varric was with us, and he died at the ritual. Stabbed by Solas’ Lyrium dagger.”

Harding takes a shaky breath and bites her bottom lip. He can see the gears turning behind her eyes as she tries to phrase the next piece of her sordid explanation.

“Harding …”

She brings her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them.

“Neve and I thought … we thought Rook knew too. But when she woke up at the Lighthouse, she started talking about how happy she was to see Varric survived. How… how she’d need to debrief with him after missions…”

Her voice is shaking now, and he desperately wishes he had a more comforting presence. Or knew how to be comforting in general. All he can settle for is patient silence.

“We’d hear her talk to him in the infirmary – well, talk to herself really.”

That explains her trips there.

“So, all this time… Rook has been talking to a dead man?”

Harding nods slowly.

Lucanis doesn’t know what kind of explanation he was expecting, but this was much worse than anything he could have come up with on his own.

 “I think … it’s her way of coping with what happened … Neve and I have just sort of been going along with it”

“Mierda…”

He’s surprised when Harding speaks next.

“Have you tried talking to her?” she asks gently.

He leans back in his stool, careful not to fall over.

“Me? No”

The dwarf stands up and pats her leggings free of some settled dirt, before returning to her garden.

“I think you should try” she calls from over her shoulder, while patting some dirt “She … she might listen to you”

He doesn’t answer. Lucanis stands to his feet, taking that as his cue to leave.

“Thank you, Harding” He says, as he starts for the door.

Though he’s not yet sure what to do with the information learned from Harding, he feels the awkward edges of a plan start to take root in the back of his mind.

~*~

Madeleina Mercar sits in Solas’ music room, surrounded by wisps and instruments from current and bygone eras, and …. Cheese. A lot of cheese.

She has no idea why the God of Trickery and Lies needs twenty cheese wheels in his music room. Doesn’t care to know the answer, either.

The lyre she was practicing with lies discarded at her side. She tries and fails to tune it. Tries and fails to play a few runs from a lullaby she can barely remember. Then, she gives up and lets the poor thing rest against the wall.

She nibbles on a small wedge unceremoniously torn off the closest cheese wheel.

Tarquin’s harsh words, Viper’s affliction with the blight, and Neve’s hurt loop in her mind like a never-ending dream. An eternal nightmare.

This is all you. The risen gods. The blight. The dragon. Now the city’s lost to the Venatori –

And although Viper had cut him off, the reassurance felt hollow from someone who was lying on his death bed because of her actions. Because of her choice.

This is all you.

Even if Tarquin didn’t mean his words, they pressed against her heart like a brand. Even if he tried to take them back, they’d been spoken into existence and burned into her forever.

It was all me.

Minrathous is gone because of me.

She brings her knees closer to her chest.

Somewhere deep down, she wants to believe that’s not true. That her being in Minrathous might not have drastically changed the outcome. She was just one person after all. They had barely managed to wound the dragon in Treviso. Had Ghilan’nain not called it back, she doubted the merchant city would have fared any better than Minrathous. Maybe even worse.

But she can’t bring herself to accept it.

She’s the leader. The consequences fall on her head, and her head alone.

And she is utterly terrified for the choices to come.

Maker’s breath, she would kill for a glass of wine to go with this cheese. Something to take the edge off. But she can’t bring herself to walk into the dining hall or the pantry.

She knows this can only go on for so long. She’ll have to start showing her face to the rest of the team at some point. To Lucanis.

She’s already starting to miss the little ritual they’ve developed.

A warm fire, good company, good food, and a good story. Spite’s occasional interjection when the story doesn’t go the way he wants it to. Scolding him like a misbehaving puppy when he does.

She doesn’t know how much she’s missed it until she’s gone a few nights without it. Doesn’t realize just how much comfort he finds in his presence. His quiet, steady confidence off and on the battle field. The surety in his step and his voice. She feels like she can falter, and he’ll be there to catch the misstep. To catch her.

She wonders if he misses the stories as much as she does.

Madeleina wants to move, to seek him out, and ask him to share a story with her.

But her limbs are made of lead. Her breaking heart is a stone in her chest, keeping her rooted in place.

She debates having another go at the lyre, but her arm only moves to bring more cheese to her mouth. What a pathetic sight she must make for someone who is supposedly this world’s only hope against the Evanuris.

Maker, I hope no one sees me like this –

Before she can even fully finish the thought, the stone door to the music room slides open. In walks the one person she wants to see, is terrified to see, and the last person she expected to see.

Lucanis Dellamorte.

She straightens up against the wall and quickly swallows the cheese already in her mouth, not bothering to chew.

“Lucanis” She says, stupidly. She wipes her hands on her shirt and shakes them out. A smile tries to pry its way onto her features, but it doesn’t quite get there.

“Madeleina” He answers, taking a few steps closer towards her. She’s still getting used to hearing her name roll off his tongue. It sends her chest fluttering every time he does.

He’s standing over her now, with two cups in his hand. She recognizes the smell. Sweet and warm – cioccolata calda. Lucanis casts a sidelong glance to the partially eaten wheel of cheese by her side. His brow quirks.

“You’ve been busy” He remarks dryly.

Madeleina’s cheeks flush.

“I … was just trying to tune this stupid lyre …” She reaches for the instrument and holds it up for a brief moment. Doesn’t want to say the real reason she’s alone in the music room eating through an ancient Elven god’s cheese stores. “Got hungry”

“Mm” He makes a noncommittal noise and nods slowly. “I see”

She knows he doesn’t believe her and is thankful he chooses not to say anything.

When he sits down on the floor next to her, she reflexively shifts over a bit to keep more room between them. He hands her the cup in his left hand, and she takes it gratefully. Takes a brief smell of the sweet aroma before her sip. The warmth of it is a balm to her sour mood.

They sit in companionable silence and with anyone else Madeleina would feel the moments stretch into an eternity, but not with him. The silence, like his presence, is like a warm blanket on a cold winter’s day. The longer she is surrounded by it, the less she wants to disturb it. It takes her by surprise when he is the one to do so.

“Did I ever tell you the story of how I got my nickname?”

The Demon of Vyrantium. The personal boogeyman of every crooked Magister and Blood mage in the imperium.

“No …” She starts, turning to face him. “I remember hearing about the incident…”

“But you don’t know the whole story”

She shakes her head.

“Would you like to?”

She would be lying if she said she wasn’t curious. Everyone in the Shadow Dragons had heard the rumours when the news first started making its rounds a year ago. Over forty casualties, including Vyrantium’s premiere Wigmaker, and high-ranking member of the Venatori, Ambrose Forfex. But that’s about all anyone knows. For days his name was a silent cheer among their ranks. He had the Venatori on edge, and it made them sloppy – which made the Shadow Dragon’s jobs easier, and did wonders for their mission success rate.

She takes another sip.

As much as she wants to retreat further into herself, to cut herself off from everyone so they don’t notice how much of a failure she is, one look into his patient, kind, brown eyes destroys any resistance floundering in her chest.

“Yeah… I’d like that”

Lucanis flashes a lopsided smile, and she thinks she may unravel on the spot. She’s grateful for the large cup in her hands and uses it to partially shield her face from view. The flush she knows is creeping onto her cheeks, her neck, her ears.

He quickly launches into a tale that is a mix of a classic caper, a spy escapade, and a horror story. She rolls her eyes when Lucanis goes into Illario’s lines he uses to pick up the guard captain. Equally surprised as he was that it worked.

She visibly recoils as he describes the slaves hanging from Ambrose’s ceiling, and the wig-based abomination he becomes. But there as much hope in his tale as there is despair. She smiles as he talks of freeing the slaves in Ambrose’s estate and stopping a dangerous man from committing any more atrocities like the ones hanging in his dungeon.

At the conclusion of his tale, Madeleina finds the strength to stand up.

Lucanis throws a curious glance at her but stays seated on the floor.

“You know, I think Illario’s wrong about you” She begins, tightening her grip on her cup.

“Illario is wrong about a great many things, you’ll have to be more specific” He grins.

“That you’re all stomach and no heart” Madeleina smiles.

“You’re a lot more heart than you give yourself credit for”

She thanks him for the cioccolata, and with renewed strength and purpose, leaves the music room to check in on the friends she’s been neglecting for the last few days. The warmth that settles in her chest, that familiar, safe feeling, acts as a bulwark against the darkness of her thoughts. Her regrets.

Instead, she’s focusing on one question in her mind – a question that brings her great comfort amidst the chaos encircling her life.

What tale should I tell him next?

[caluupin]

Finished TGAAC around 2 1/2 weeks ago but only finished the doodles today. but still, here ya go!

[theflowerofthecommonwealth]

Jasmine: (Does a ghostly call around a campfire) “¡Ayyyy miiiissss hijooooos! ¿Dónde están mis hijoooooosss?”

MacCready: (Puts his hands over his ears) “StOoOoOoOp!”

Jasmine: (Has her hands out in front of her as she moves around) “¡Quiero mis hijooooos! ¿Dónde están mis hijos?”

Piper: “I have NO idea what you’re saying, kid- but it’s freaking me out!!!”

Danse: (Is as white as a ghost at his spot by the campfire)

X6: (Says nothing while shuffling on his own two feet, hands in his pockets)

MacCready: “Can’t you just… Tone it down a notch or two?”

Jasmine: (Throws up her hands) “It’s Halloween!!! It’s suppose to freak you out!!! That’s the point!!!”

Piper: “After all the spooky scares we pulled on each other during the prank war- we all are a bit tender!!! So give us a break! Now we have to worry about some vengeance filled Mexican lady coming after us!”

Jasmine: (Rolls her eyes) “¡Cobardes! Y’all are a bunch of sissies! I’ve been hearing this story since I was born and so had most of the kids my age in my neighborhood.”

MacCready: “And I’m pretty sure you kids were living off a gallon of coffee and three hours of sleep all the time!”

Deacon: (Comes out from behind a bush dressed in a white nightgown and a long dark wig) “OoOoOoOoOoOo!!!” (Slowly moves towards the campfire, the smoke machine he set up earlier adding extra dramatic flare)

Jasmine: (Points and gasps) “¡La Llorona!”

MacCready, Danse, and Piper: (Scream bloody murder in sync)

X6: (Stands there stock still as his soul silently leaves his body)

Nick: (Comes running over) “WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!?”

Everyone: (Dives behind RoboDad for protection)

Jasmine: (Runs up and puts her arms around his waist, staring up at him innocently) “Papi- La Llorona wants to take me away and drown me! So you hafta protect me!”

Nick: (Heavy sigh as he picks the teen girl up) “Not the vengeance ghost lady again- haven’t you told enough of those scary stories?”

Jasmine: (Huffs) “No- I haven’t told everyone about El Cucuy yet.”

Nick: (Glances behind him at the trembling adults) “Maybe hold off the scary stories until after Christmas…”

Deacon: (Waves his hands around some more) “OoOoOoOoOo!”

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii, I recently went into the x-men and I found my own dead with Charles and Erik AND I NEED READ MORE OF THEM BUT I SO LOST AFTER POWERS AND HOUSE OF X SO I DON'T KNOW WHERE CONTINUE, can u help me?

(alsoIlikeyoursdrawingsiwishbeingsoconstantwithmycontentlikeu)

i'll be very candid with you my friend: i'm totally lost too !!!!!!! your comic-reading journey is about as green as mine and so i cant personally give you a super great guide- but beautiful people on the internet exist who've done most of the dirty work for us when sorting through the stories you 'should' read so i'm borrowing them to help us both

you can read this article to read about one person's advice with exploring krakoa and- in their opinion- its most 'significant' stories, though to summarize the issues they recommend looking into:

House of X/Powers of X (which you should have already done)

X of Swords event

Hellfire Gala

Inferno

X Lives and X Deaths of Wolverine

Second Hellfire Gala

Third Hellfire Gala

Fall of the House of X/Rise of the Powers of X (also should have already done, however...) +Single issue: X-Men (2021 series) #35 aka Uncanny X-Men #700 is featured at the end of the FoX omnibus, though the omnibus excludes an extra bit at the end involving a cliffhanger for Charles's fate after he's arrested

if you want to dig a little deeper though, you can check out this article from another individual which includes another wave of 'relevant' (word used loosely as some can be considered more poignant than others) krakoa stories and stories related to it or set during the period.

it's a lot longer and more in depth than the last article, so again i only really rec peaking at this one depending on how deep you wanna go, or if you decide you want to explore more after reading the more 'key' stories. def wouldn't hurt to give it a glance just in case you read some summaries that pique your interest!

all in all, don't take these as concrete rules or guides to follow: comics are meant to be fun, these are just good starting points if you're feeling lost or overwhelmed. at the end of the day, you decide ultimately what you want to read and which stories interest you the most

happy reading !