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thetourguidebarbie · 6 years ago

Note

6 + 99 please!

Bookshop au + Magical accidents (+ mermaid/siren + werewolf + Only One Bed™) for one of my favorite people in the whole wide world. Definitely positively absolutely not safe for work. I’m self-fiving at it not breaking 10k words. It was a struggle.

Thank you to @garglyswoof for tolerating my constant idea bouncing and ‘can you look at this real quick pleeeeeease’ harassment, and to @chica-cherry-lola for helping me get started and @goldcaught and @candycolamorgan for letting me creepily watch them like a hawk in a hotel room while they read the first draft and listening to me complain about how many words this was.

I hope you like it Laine

Caroline tried her best not to give Werewolf With Dimples the evil eye as he walked through the front entrance of the bookshop, the bell letting out a shrill clang.

To be fair, she wasn’t ten thousand percent sure he was a werewolf, but every time he entered Mystic Books her skin would get all prickly, letting her know that another supernatural non-witchy type was around, and there were only a few choices that came out in daylight and could pass for human.

She didn’t know Werewolf With Dimples’s name, nor had she ever had any direct interaction with him. Occasionally she caught him glancing at her when she was shelving new releases—the section he frequented—but other than that, no communication whatsoever.

Anyway, she kind of hated him, mostly on principle.

She’d been working at the magical bookstore on the edge of Mystic Falls for most of the year while she took night classes towards her degree in Economics. The owner, Sheila, taught part-time as a visiting professor in the Religious Studies department, and Caroline had really loved her History of Paganism and Witchcraft in Literature class when she took it for a gen ed credit. She’d quickly pinned on a minor in Religious Studies and asked Sheila to be her advisor. After a few enthusiastic office-hour conversations about the books she was assigned and a side-mention of how she was looking for a part-time gig for the summer, Sheila had offered her a job.

She wished the customer she was ringing up a good day and as soon as they were out the door she glanced around the bookshop to re-locate Werewolf With Dimples with the intent of trying to convey her displeasure through murder eyes as she aggressively shelved books in his immediate vicinity. She was seriously tempted to unclasp her necklace and let her fangs out in the hopes that she’d spook him and he’d take his own ass out the door without any extra effort. Unfortunately, all he did was glance up and meet her eyes with a small smirk before returning to his reading.

She took a moment to remind herself that Sheila would get mad if she ate customers. She was lucky that the owner had trusted her enough to give her a chance. It had been terrifying to admit her secret, the confession leaving her in a low, shaky voice after her fangs had broken through her gums and scared one of the teenage boys that unsubtly eyed her legs while she reshelved books. Sirens had to feed on blood to walk on land and were often mistaken for vampires due to their similar diet, but Sheila knew better and thankfully understood. She made her a necklace to dampen her cravings, imbuing it with enough magic that she could feed from it instead of humans, letting her keep her legs without having to hurt anyone.

Combined with the free access to all the books she could want and the steady air conditioning, if you ignored Werewolf With Dimples ruining her day it had so far been the most stress-free summer she’d had. She glanced up at him again to give him a good stink eye and was absolutely not at all distracted by the shape of his forearms revealed by the henley rolled up to his elbows or the way his long fingers wrapped around the cover of whatever book he was flagrantly consuming without a thought at all to the ‘NO BROWSING WITHOUT BUYING’ sign she’d made the week before and thoughtfully thumbtacked to the shelf by the armchair he always sat in.

The demand for printed grimoires, their best-selling section, was waning because you could find most of the common ones online. They were struggling to stay open as it was, had even opened a magical pastry counter in an attempt to gain more revenue, and she was infuriated that Werewolf With Dimples just came in, read books, and left without buying anything.

Not even from the pastry counter.

Frankly, Caroline thought it was more than a bit rude. This wasn’t a library. You weren’t supposed to be able to just walk in and read whatever you wanted without buying anything. It was a respectable capitalist establishment. She’d taken to mentally ringing up the price of all the books he’d read and then reshelved, and he’d already hit over $500 of stolen knowledge.

He sometimes also reshelved things wrong, watching her with a small smile on his lips when she went to fix it after he got up. She was 99% sure he was doing it on purpose.

Honestly, he was lucky that she didn’t eat customers.

The only good thing about Werewolf With Dimples was that he was cute. She suspected that it was how he’d gotten away with being a flagrant thief for so long. The Halo Effect was a real thing. It was just science.

She swore to herself every time he left that next time she’d tell him that they had the right to refuse service to anyone and to please see himself out unless he was going to purchase something, but for some reason she’d never been able to go through with it.

Until now.

She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath before walking over, trying not to look too aggressive. He was lounging on a plush chair in the corner of their rare grimoire section, reading a leather-bound tome that looked like one of the newer releases.

“Hi,” she said with her best customer service smile, waiting until he looked up at her to continue. “So, I’ve noticed that you’ve been coming here a lot lately.”

He smirked, and she immediately realized that her opening could be taken in a much different way than she’d meant it. She cleared her throat and jabbed her finger at the sign a foot away from his ear and continued. “We have a policy here about browsing.”

“Do you?” he asked, his voice low and smooth. She hadn’t been expecting the accent, but she shook it off like a champ and nodded.

“Yeah. You can’t just like, read the books without buying things. No browsing without a purchase. This is a bookshop, with the emphasis on shop.”

“Consider me informed,” he said, clearly trying not to laugh, and she glared at him, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“Okay, great! I am. So, you going to buy that?”

“I must admit that I wasn’t planning on it, no.”

“Great!” she said with forced cheer, tugging it out of his hands. “I’ll reshelve it then.”

He watched with clear amusement as she inspected the cover, trying to find the title, and she figured out why when she saw it, stamped in gold on the front of the leather cover. Maybe in her first month she would have blushed and been more than a little flustered at ripping a book clearly about sex spells and potions from an attractive man’s hands, but at this point she felt like she’d seen everything.

“Can I help you find anything else?” she asked, grabbing a stepstool and carrying it over to reshelve the book.

He didn’t answer, and when she turned around after sliding the book into its proper place he was gone.

As she’d said. Fucking rude.

He still showed up every day after that (except the three days around the full moon, which totally confirmed her werewolf theory), but he now bought a pastry from the counter before he settled down to read. He’d apparently taken the ‘no browsing without a purchase’ rule to mean that any purchase was sufficient, which was so not the case, yet despite her annoyance she sometimes found herself irritatingly distracted by his tongue darting over his lips to catch the flakes of the buttery croissants, or by the look on his face as he read.

After hours she sometimes stuck around to read books in the back room, and she’d started to pick up whatever he was reading out of curiosity. His choices were good, she was loathe to admit. They seemed to have a lot in common in terms of their favorite subjects. However, it didn’t stop him from being a total ass.

She didn’t have much time to confront him even if she’d wanted to, anyway. Katherine had decided to move back to Bulgaria and Sheila was out of town for winter break. That left Caroline completely alone to do all of the stocking herself. She was pulling multiple shifts, and though the overtime pay was nice, it was still a lot of work.

Caroline was busy sorting the books that were too old for new arrivals but hadn’t been sold yet when she felt someone come up behind her, nearly dropping the newest edition of the magical creature encyclopedia and barely catching it before it tumbled down to what would have been a painful fall onto her toes. She whirled around to have some serious words with whoever had snuck up on her, leveling her glare at none other than Werewolf With Dimples.

Of fucking course.

She pushed a slightly damp curl out of her face, the air conditioning having inconveniently broken just after Sheila had left, trying to calm her racing heart. She didn’t like being startled, her fight-or-flight instincts tending to scream “swim before you become siren sushi,” and it was even worse when she was on land when she just looked jumpy.

“Can you not sneak up on me like that?” she asked, abandoning all semblance of her normally stellar customer service attitude.

“Sorry, love. I was just going to ask if you needed help.”

“You don’t work here,” she said shortly, placing the book she’d been holding on the pile for magical creature research and turning to the next one.

“I’m here enough to know my way ‘round,” he pointed out.

“That’s weird, since you somehow don’t reshelve books correctly when you’re done browsing without a purchase.”

He didn’t even try to deny it, and she huffed at the knowing smirk on his stupid smug face.

“I’d be more of a help than a hindrance, I think. And you look like you’re a bit overwhelmed.”

“I’m not overwhelmed,” she said, her tone a bit sharper than she’d meant it to be, but Werewolf With Dimples didn’t seem to mind, his lips twitching before he nodded.

“Well, suit yourself, then.”

She huffed, the temptation of an extra hand outweighing both her pride and her common sense for one crucial moment that she was sure she’d regret. “Wait,” she said, and he turned around, his eyebrows raised. She kind of hated that he looked so smug that she was clearly about to let him help, but she didn’t really want to be stuck in the shop too late.

“Yes, love?”

“If you can just sort the books into piles according to their sections while I shelve them, that would be a huge help.”

“Of course,” he said easily, walking over and standing beside her, leaning over the table. He smelled really good, even with her necklace dulling her hunger. She had to resist the urge to linger, instead clearing her throat and gesturing to the large bucket of unsorted tomes before picking up a pile for the Rituals section.

“I’ll be right back,” she said, and he shot her a dimpled smile, his eyes sparkling as though he knew what she’d been thinking, and she hoped that she’d turned around before he could see her blush, her tongue running over her teeth just to make sure she hadn’t accidentally let her fangs appear.

What was wrong with her?

He was attractive, and she wasn’t above admitting that she’d totally go home with him if they had met in a bar. If he hadn’t been such a dick about the browsing thing, she might have even considered indulging in a little flirting at the store, maybe even a fling if he’d been a decent person, but she couldn’t justify it now that he’d shown himself to be the actual worst. To be fair, he had offered to help, though she doubted he had pure intentions from the way he watched her. What was the harm in taking advantage of his willingness to make her job easier? She totally deserved it for putting up with him.

As much as she told herself that he was a means to an end--her being able to go home at the end of her shift and bingewatch some Real Housewives--she found herself distracted from her work wondering how his long fingers would feel curled inside of her as he breathed filthy things in her ear, whether his eyes would flash wolfgold with want when he looked at her. She would never go through with it obviously. Purely a physical attraction.

But it was still annoying.

Ugh. He was just a really hot thorn in her side. He’d help out and she’d send him on his way, their totally unfriendly antagonism continuing to run its course. She shelved the books much too slowly, trying to get her heart rate back to normal, and when she returned he was already halfway through the bin, methodically sorting them into the piles she’d created.

“Thanks for helping,” she said, trying to keep her voice neutral.

“It’s my pleasure.”

That smile should be illegal. Like, a federal crime. It made her feel like he wanted to eat her, but in a good way.

She swallowed, snatching up the next pile and speed-walking away to shelve it without another word. She was highly aware of his eyes on her every time she climbed the ladder to slide the books into their proper places one-by-one. She was surprised that she wasn’t more nervous, centuries of her kind being hunted out of existence by humans making her wary of anyone who watched her so intently, and when he drank her in his eyes were hungry. Though she’d long noticed the shivers he sent down her spine, the nervousness that werewolves tended to bring out in her, it suddenly hit her that she’d never actually felt unsafe. They were only wolves for one night per month, it was true, but that didn’t make them powerless in human form; their accelerated healing and enhanced strength were still a definite threat to her if they weren’t friendly. A siren could tempt a wolf to give chase, could draw them in with the same heated looks and magnetic draw that they used to trap their human prey, but only at the risk of becoming a meal themselves once they were caught.

The heated glances he sent her made her blood rush, her heart thumping in her chest from the intoxicating high of being hunted, but in an entirely different way than she’d expected. He was hungry for her, and since she obviously didn’t want to give in, not one bit, it was deeply irritating.

When she turned back he seemed absorbed in his task, and she saw that he was almost done sorting the entire pile. Clearly she’d been procrastinating on each section for too long. She picked up the next set of books, looking up at him when he spoke.

“I’m Klaus,” he said softly. The low tone felt odd to her after the heated glances and wicked taunting smirks she’d come to expect from him, the abrupt shift throwing her off.

“Caroline,” she said, putting down the book pile to shake his hand, her breath catching at the heat of his touch, the way the energy seemed to crackle between them. Like witches, sirens could sense magic by touch, could read a baseline of intent, but she’d never felt a charge so strong before. She met his eyes and found that she couldn’t look away. He seemed as surprised as she was by their weird magic-y connection, his gaze finally darting down to where their hands were still clasped, the feel of his calloused palm pressed against hers somehow throwing her off-balance even more.

“Caroline,” he repeated, as though testing how her name rolled off his tongue, and she felt a totally unwanted flush creep up her cheeks at his tone. “Is there anything else I can do?”

She swallowed, desperately looking for a way to diffuse the tension. “Um... Yeah. Reshelve these and then I have some other stuff you can help with. If you want, I mean. Come with me.”

She walked just a bit too fast in the direction of the stockroom, hoping she’d managed to turn quickly enough that he hadn’t seen her blush.

Klaus, as it turned out after a few hours voluntarily trapped in his presence, was annoyingly charming. He had a dry sense of humor that made her laugh before she could think to suppress it, and they ended up in the back stockroom close to midnight, still doing inventory that she probably could have finished up herself by ten.

It was weirdly worth it, though.

She didn’t have many people to talk to other than her roommate, who honestly was kind of a killjoy, and her friends from high school. Even from just snooping on the books he’d read she’d been able to have a real conversation with him about magical theory and history that was much more engaging than any she’d had in university classes. He really listened to her when she talked instead of planning his next point during her debates, and she kind of hated that she liked him for achieving the basic low bar of being attentive when she said words.

Maybe it was more than that, she admitted to herself when she glanced at the clipboard for the last aisle, highly aware of him just behind her. Maybe it was that she hadn’t had this much fun in a really long time. Maybe it was that he seemed to get her. Earlier she’d attributed the heated intense looks to physical chemistry, a primal sort of hunger that had everything to do with how he thought she’d look tangled in his sheets with his mark between her thighs, but she abruptly realized as he laughed at one of her jokes in their first ten minutes in the stockroom that it was more than that. He looked at her like she was fascinating.

They were approaching one in the morning when he’d said it, and honestly he’d chosen what was most likely the worst possible time. She’d been insisting that she could shelve a grimoire that looked like it weighed more than your average ten year old, mostly out of principle when he’d offered. The book was too valuable to keep out front and totally not something for a non-employee to mess with if she didn’t want to face Sheila’s wrath.

He hadn’t argued, just given her an exasperated look that she found more endearing than patronizing, and stood back as she climbed the ladder, subtly trying to spot her. She used a burst of her magic to boost it to the top shelf, slightly off balance from the toll it took on her. Her necklace must need a bit of a refresher spell, she noted. “What are you?” he’d asked, blurted really. It was clearly impulsive, but he didn’t move to apologize, apparently choosing to stand by asking her such a personal question.

She bristled at his rudeness, the distraction making her weight shift unexpectedly. Her arms flapped as she tried to regain her balance, and she managed to hold onto a shelf and steady herself on the ladder before glaring at him. “Excuse me?” she asked, her voice high pitched and defensive. “Seriously? You don’t just ask people what they are.”

“I’m a werewolf,” he said bluntly, and she huffed.

“I know.”

He didn’t seem surprised that she’d figured it out, though to be fair he hadn’t tried to hide it—a lot of the books he borrowed were about werewolves—and as a certified snoop herself she couldn’t exactly blame him for being nosey. Still, she didn’t owe him an explanation, especially since most stereotypes about sirens weren’t all that flattering.

“Well then it’s only fair to enlighten me as well.”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t think that’s how that works.”

“What are you afraid of?” he asked, and she gritted her teeth.

She doubted he’d attack her, especially in his human form, and she’d seen that he’d read a book or two with content about sirens that was accurate. It wasn’t like she was going to eat him. Her self-control was excellent, and he had no idea how weak she currently was. If he reacted badly she’d ask Sheila to add him to the barrier spell on the door. Not only did it emit an electric shock to anyone who was on the list--usually thieves or rude customers--but Katherine had fended off her boredom during an unusually slow afternoon enchanting it to scream creative insults at the unwanted guest.

What was he going to do, write his congressman?

“I’m a siren,” she said reluctantly, fingering her shell necklace nervously out of habit. “But I don’t like, eat people.”

“Isn’t that how you keep your powers?” he asked, and she was relieved that he didn’t seem at all on edge or nervous. Just curious.

“My necklace is enchanted so that I don’t have to feed. Eating people is kind of rude.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is it?”

She snorted, hopping down from the ladder and taking the next book he handed her. “Well, humans are fragile, you know? I don’t want to accidentally give them anemia or something.”

“Fair. Does the necklace also give you enough power to keep your legs?”

She slotted the book into its proper place and made a mark on the clipboard, nodding. “Yep! My powers with my necklace are basically limited to some basic magic and being kickass at karaoke, but that’s only useful at parties. No tail unless the necklace comes off.”

Klaus looked intrigued more than anything, and she resisted the urge to go into more detail as she moved the ladder down a bit and plucked the next book out of his hands, climbing up to shelve it. She was so determined to look normal after revealing such a huge secret that she accidentally knocked one of the artifacts down with her elbow, and it fell to the ground with a clang followed by a shattering of glass.

“Oh, shit,” she breathed, looking around with wide eyes.

She wasn’t sure what she’d knocked over, and she frantically tried to find the label on the shelf she’d knocked it from before sighing in relief. It wasn’t anything important, just some empty vials.

The sigh was short-lived, her panic over the vials upending her balance, and she fell off the ladder with a thump, her arms aching, vaguely recognizing the sharp high note of something shattering against the concrete floor. She stared at the ceiling unseeingly, too distracted by how her hips suddenly felt like they were on fire. It took about half a second to realize what the familiar sensation was, the itchy bubbling of scales already tingling on her lower abdomen as her skin tightened and shifted.

“Caroline?” Klaus asked, sounding worried, and she winced as she heard the rip of cloth, her fusing legs ripping her jeans and thong in half as the spell crept down her thighs.

“My necklace,” she said frantically, clumsily rolling over on her elbows and reaching for the shell and cord that lay a foot away, trying to crawl toward it. She knew that it was most likely shattered and therefore stripped of its magic, but her tiny flame of hope that it had just become unfastened was extinguished when Klaus followed her line of vision and immediately bent down to pick it up, handing her the leather cord with only a fragment of the shell still clinging to it. “It’s broken,” she said unnecessarily, staring down at it.

“Where can you get another?” Klaus asked, and Caroline sighed.

“Well, Sheila can enchant one for me, but she’s out of town.”

He winced, clearly trying not to stare at the shimmering scales that had replaced her legs, the transformation only just finishing with her feet elongating into the end of her tail as she tried to sit up. She swore, and as soon as Klaus noticed what she was doing he bent to help her, his hand warm against her arm as he helped her regain her balance.

“Can I help in the meantime?”

“You’ve already done me like, fifty favors today,” Caroline pointed out, knowing that any decent person would help her get home instead of leaving her to lay on the stockroom floor unable to walk, but feeling like she had to say it out of principle.

He seemed to agree, giving her a disbelieving look before turning to her jeans and the red lace scrap that had previously been her thong. She probably would have been embarrassed if she wasn’t so stressed from her predicament. “You can leave those there,” she said. “Just grab my phone out of my pocket.”

He did as she directed, checking both back pockets and pulling out her phone. “Your purse is by the front desk?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll be right back,” he promised, returning moments later with her purse over one shoulder and bending down to pick her up. “My car is the only one in the lot, but if you’d prefer I can get something to hide the tail.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s dark anyway,” she said, distracted by how warm he was and how good he smelled. She hated how even though she felt completely helpless in her current form, she felt oddly safe cradled against his chest.

“Your apartment?” he offered, and she shook her head.

“I live with a roommate. She doesn’t know. I don’t want to give her a heart attack.”

“I live alone?” he offered. “I even have a bathtub, if you’d prefer.”

She resisted the urge to snort, not wanting to be rude him when he was being nice (and she’d heard dumber questions before by far).

“Your place would be great, but don’t worry, I won’t need to take over your bathtub for anything other than bathing.”

She could have sworn she heard an off-beat thump of his heart, the hitch of his breath. Her words replayed in her mind and she tried to keep her composure while fighting the image of him walking in on her in the bath out of her mind. She wondered how entranced he’d be by the glistening of her scales, whether his gaze would trace the beads of water... She caught his eyes, noticed they were darker than they had been just a moment before. Had his thoughts been wandering in the same direction?

A few days ago she might have found the idea of him thinking of her naked creepy and irritating, but now she had to internally admit it was kind of hot...

She felt the light pierce of her teeth against her gums and shook herself, trying to push down the sudden bite of hunger she’d felt. He smelled even better now that her powers weren’t suppressed, his heartbeat temptingly strong and his jugular just inches away from her watering mouth. She was highly tempted to ask him whether he’d let her have a little taste so that she could get her legs back and they could both pretend this never happened, but feeding from someone was intimate, gave her a rush of adrenaline and pleasure and was as potent an aphrodisiac for whoever she was taking blood from as it was for herself. It would be taking advantage of him to ask, especially considering that he was clearly into her, and if she connected with him like that, things could get messy.

It would be better to wait for Sheila to come back and solve this without any unnecessary complications.

The night air was cool against her skin as they exited the shop, Klaus scanning the parking lot as though looking for threats before he brought her to what must have been his car, clumsily poking at the lever with his foot to move the chair back so that she could rest in the passenger seat comfortably. “Thanks so much, Klaus. Really,” she said, needing to break the silence somehow as she strapped herself in.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

Her heart fluttered and she swallowed audibly, staring determinedly at a streetlamp out the window, listening to the driver’s side door slam and the car start up, not wanting to meet his eyes. Maybe it was more than lust, she realized, chewing her lower lip. Maybe she liked him. Just a little.

Ugh.

Had she seriously managed to catch feelings for this guy she’d been annoyed with for literal months? Seriously?

She was too exhausted to give it any real thought, she decided, determinedly leaning against the cool glass of the window and trying to ignore Klaus’s glances at her whenever they stopped at a light. She managed to doze off against the window as they drove, and it felt like just a moment had passed when he gently touched her shoulder to wake her. They’d arrived at a brick apartment building that she’d noticed before when she was downtown, and she unbuckled her seatbelt as he got out, a bit embarrassed at how helpless she was in her current state but deciding it was better not to draw attention. She took deep calming breaths as he carried her up the stairs in silence, doing her best to avoid catching his scent.

She hadn’t really thought this plan through, she realized once Klaus got the door to his studio open. It was a small space, which made sense given this housing market and that he couldn’t have been more than a year or two older than her, but it also meant that the one bed took up a good third of the non-kitchen living space.

It was late and she was exhausted. She could tell Klaus was getting tired too, but werewolves were natural night people, and considering that he barely ever came into the bookshop until afternoon she’d assumed that he either slept late every day or had a morning job.

“It’s a recliner,” he said as he set her down on a chair in the tiny living room. “The lever is on the side.”

She quickly figured out how to operate it, the footrest popping up to support her tail, and she sighed in relief as she leaned back against the cushions. It wasn’t as comfortable as a bed, and she’d have a nasty backache the next day, but hopefully she could borrow Klaus’s computer and get a hotel until Sheila got back from London. “Thanks.”

“Of course, love. The remote is in the side drawer and I can get the wi-fi password for you in a moment. I just need to start the laundry for fresh sheets. I hadn’t expected guests.”

“Laundry?”

He gave her an exasperated look. “For the bed. You can’t possibly think I’d make you sleep on that?”

“Klaus, I’m the one intruding on your space. I don’t want to make you go out of your way—“

“Honestly, Caroline, it’s not a problem. If you’d feel more comfortable with me in the chair that’s all right, but my mother would roll in her grave if she knew I’d let a young lady sleep on my apartment’s equivalent of a couch.”

She eyed him for a few seconds gauging his sincerity before deciding that sleeping in a chair instead of a bed was not a hill she wanted to die on. At all. Especially since she wouldn’t be able to get out of the chair.

She was putting her trust in him and it was scary, but her instincts told her that he wouldn’t hurt her. He was dangerous, but so was she and it wasn’t like she wasn’t a perfectly functioning member of polite society. As long as she didn’t give into the temptation to take just a taste of him, everything would be fine.

“We can use the bed, but I’m too tired to wait for laundry,” she said, fighting back an unwelcome yawn even as she spoke, and he smiled slightly.

“All right, love. Shall I get you something to sleep in?”

“Just a shirt is fine. Thanks.”

He nodded and went to the dresser in the corner, opening a drawer and bringing a henley back to her, murmuring that he was going to use the restroom. She changed quickly, wrapping her bra in her shirt and throwing it in the general direction of her purse, satisfied when it landed just behind it.

The fabric of the shirt was soft against her skin, and it was comfortable enough that she knew she wouldn’t mind sleeping in it. She yawned again, stretching, and she vaguely heard the door open and saw Klaus come out shirtless in just a pair of boxer-briefs. She tried her best not to let her eyes wander, but she couldn’t seem to manage it, absorbing his abs and the tattoo inked across his shoulder, barely stopping herself from licking her lips, wondering what his skin would taste like. “I live alone so I don’t keep anything to sleep in as a general rule. If it makes you uncomfortable, I’ll take the chair.”

She hoped that he couldn’t see her flush at how loaded his tone was. He clearly knew that the only discomfort she had was with their chemistry, and she was hoping he didn’t comment on it. He had a mirror after all, and she didn’t want to get into a conversation about whether she found him attractive or not. It was too much effort, and she was practically falling asleep in the recliner.

“It’s fine,” she said, thankful that she could keep her voice even. “Can you move me?”

He nodded, picking her up easily and setting her down on the mattress, making himself busy plugging his phone in and offering her an extra charger, which she accepted. While he pawed through her purse for her phone she managed to wriggle to the other side of the bed, trying to make herself as comfortable as possible while soaked in his scent and craving a taste. She felt herself sink bonelessly into the mattress, her eyes closing, and it wasn’t long before she fell asleep.

Caroline stirred slowly, instinctively turning to blindly fumble for her phone from where her side table usually was and coming into contact with Klaus’s chest instead, her eyes flying open when he grumbled softly, stirring but not waking.

It was then that she realized she was in a bit of a quandary.

She was half underneath him, her face level with his shoulder, and she suspected that she’s slept with her face tucked into it (whoops), pressed against him comfortably with his arms tight around her, the heat and scent of him cloaking her. The beat of his pulse thumped insistently next to her ear and her mouth watered at the prospect of just a taste. The magic in the necklace had only been enough to keep her from being uncomfortably hungry, and now that she didn’t have that safety net, she was fucking starving.

“Klaus,” she hissed, poking him lightly in the chest, feeling slightly bad for waking him up but figuring he’d be happier being awake and not breakfast rather than the alternative. He shifted, and her breath hitched when she felt his morning erection pressed against the sensitive skin where her scales met skin.

“What, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice low and rough from sleep.

“You need to get up.”

“What time is it?”

“I don’t know but I’m hungry,” she said, unable to resist taking a deep inhale of his neck before he pulled away, looking at her with bleary, sleep-glazed eyes.

“I can do a coffee run in a bit if you—“

“No, like, hungry,” she emphasized. “Like hungry as in for you.”

He suddenly looked much more awake, his eyebrow quirking as he clearly fought not to laugh. “Is that so?”

She huffed, knowing that a flush was creeping up her cheeks to show her embarrassment at her poor choice of words. “Like, for your blood.”

“Do you want to eat?” he asked, his tone loaded with innuendo as he moved to brush her hair out of her face in a surprisingly tender gesture that made her heart flutter and her pulse race. “I don’t mind.”

She bit her lip, part of her wondering whether he knew what he was signing up for and the rest of her tempted beyond belief.

“Feeding on a person is intimate,” she said slowly, shifting underneath him, just the prospect of the rush of his blood on her tongue making her nipples pebble. She doubted the flush in her cheeks was just from embarrassment now. “I don’t want you to do it because you feel like you have to. Like, I can stop myself from—“

“I want to,” he interrupted. “I’ll heal, Caroline.”

“I know,” she said, trying to keep her voice from growing thick with lust. “It’s not just intimacy though. It’s also kind of sexual.”

“You can’t possibly think that I would say no to the prospect of spending the morning satisfying all facets of your hunger for me,” he murmured, the goosebumps bubbling up on her skin and the quiver of her tail against his leg betraying how much she wanted to give into him. She took a deep shaking breath, licking her lips and trying to muster her very best glare.

“This is a one-time semi-hate fuck,” she said as though it was an announcement, one they both knew was most likely completely false.

He snorted. “Is that what your plan is?”

“Once,” she repeated, and he smirked, bending down to nip her ear.

“I’ll try to change your mind then, shall I? I’d like nothing more than to coax you into my bed again, Caroline,” he whispered, his hand skimming down her scaled hip up to her side, sneaking under the henley she’d borrowed to stroke her soft skin. “Are you open to being convinced?”

“You can try,” she said, too stubborn to admit that she was most definitely open to it. Wanted it, even.

“I’ll do more than try, sweetheart,” he said, bending down so that his lips hovered over hers, stopping just short of brushing them together.

He was waiting for her, the ball definitively in her court, and she was too impatient to feign stubbornness anymore. She brushed her nose against his, catching his lips in a soft kiss, the swipe of tongue against her lower lip making her moan softly, her back arching at the sensation of his hand gliding down her spine, the brush of his calloused palm over her sensitive skin making her gasp. She let her finger trace the tattoo on his shoulder as she bent to kiss the other side his neck, her tongue tracing the dip of his jugular, her fangs splitting through her gums just from the anticipation. “You sure?” she asked, pulling away to look at him. He was watching her with parted lips and dark eyes, a finger reaching out to trace the line of her lip before he cupped her cheek, brushing the pad of his thumb against her fang, slicing into the skin. She moaned at the scent of it, her eyes closing as she lightly sucked a bit of blood from the wound, unable to tear her eyes away from his, enjoying the way he swallowed audibly, the low rumble in his throat when she flicked his skin with her tongue as she withdrew.

“I’m sure,” he said, and she grinned at the obvious lust in his voice, pulling off the borrowed henley so that she could feel his skin on hers as she bent to nip his shoulder, his cock hard and hot against her hip through his boxerbriefs. She flicked her tongue to catch the blood that welled up, grinning at his answering groan. “Take more,” he said, his tone rough and demanding and full of need.

She bent to sink her fangs into his neck, moaning loudly as she sucked gently, his blood rich and thick against her tongue. She felt her skin begin to relax, her scales melting away to reveal pliant flesh, and Klaus wasted no time sliding his hand under her thigh to part her legs, settling himself in between them as she fed, his cock pressed against her inner thigh, the fabric separating them giving her a delicious sort of friction just inches from where she really wanted it..

She reached beneath the waistband of his boxerbriefs to wrap her fingers around his length, stroking him firmly and ghosting her thumb across the tip, and it was immensely satisfying to hear the way he swore out her name, how his hips moved automatically, chasing her touch. She lazily explored the skin of his abs with her fingertips as she stroked him slowly, pulling back to look at him with dazed, blooddrunk eyes.

His gaze was focused on her tongue as she licked his blood from her lips, and he reached down to wrap his fingers around her wrist, stopping her from stroking him. “Fuck, Caroline...”

“If you didn’t I’d be really disappointed,” she muttered, shifting to try to get friction against his covered cock, needing to soothe the persistent ache between her thighs.

He chuckled, bending down to catch her mouth with his and tugging her lower lip roughly between his teeth as he slipped two fingers inside of her, his lips parting slightly with a groan when he found how wet she was, fingers curling against her walls with a practiced motion that made her muscles tighten as she rolled her hips for more, her moan almost embarrassingly loud. The blood high had gotten her most of the way there, and when he brushed her clit with his thumb she dug her nails into his back and chased his touch, panting out his name and falling back bonelessly from her release.

“Disappointed?” he asked lightly, a wicked smirk playing on his lips that turned her on even more.

“It was pretty fast. Was that all?” she teased, knowing that it was completely impossible for him not to know how good it had been, her breathing still shallow and quick.

“Oh, that was just the beginning,” he murmured, drinking her in with dark eyes that flashed gold for just a moment when she reached to trace the already healed wound her bite had left on his shoulder. “I’m not nearly done with you, sweetheart. The full moon is close, and you’re not the only monster here.”

“I’ve had wolf sex,” she breathed, still shallow from coming down from her high but turned on enough that she didn’t stop him when he lazily slipped two fingers back inside of her, hooking them against her walls as he watched her face intently. “My ex was one.”

His eyes flashed again for just a moment, his thumb pressing down on her clit as he dragged his nails just shy of her g-spot, and she bit her lower lip hard enough to draw blood, trying to stifle what would have been an embarrassingly loud moan.

“So you know about what the moon does to me, then?”

“Yeah.”

“And you don’t mind?”

“Do I really seem like a ‘please fuck me gently’ type of girl after that?” she asked, her eyebrows raised, though she was barely able to get the words out evenly when he brushed his thumb against her clit again, his other hand pressed against her hip to keep her from getting too much friction. He clearly wanted to draw it out, and she wasn’t opposed.

“Then what do you want, sweetheart?” he asked, a slow, pleased smirk spreading across his face, and she felt her breath catch as Klaus found her g-spot again, pressing in a way that made her legs turn to jelly. “Tell me.”

“I want to come again,” she said. “From your cock this time.”

His smirk grew into a full smile, one that was almost feral, that showed all of his teeth. “I’ll fuck you from behind then, shall I? I’ll fill you with my cock while while you feed from my wrist. Do you like it rough, sweetheart? Do you want me to take you hard and fast? To claim you?”

“Yes,” she breathed, spreading her legs for him as he continued to fuck her with his fingers, and he withdrew, making her whimper, squirming for the touch he’d taken from her.

He leaned down to nip her ear, his breath hot on her neck as he spoke. “I’ve wanted you for months, Caroline. My wolf has wanted you, to claim you. I’ve spent hours wondering what pretty sounds you would make if you bent over the counter for me with your legs spread. I imagined you wet and panting, begging for my cock as you held the skirt of your sundress around your waist, craving the feel of my hands as I mapped every inch of your skin.”

She gasped softly at the visual he painted for her, her pussy clenching around nothing, craving to be filled.

“Get on your knees for me, sweetheart,” he said, his voice low and rough as he pulled back to let her flip over, his hands returning to her hips to steady her before they slid down to encourage her to part her thighs. His palms lingered on her skin for a moment as though he couldn’t get enough of the feel of her, and she tensed as his hands moved up slowly to settle on her hips, somehow knowing that if she complained he’d make a point to go even slower. He let out a pleased hum that made her flush as he dragged his finger gently along the flesh of her ass before bending to kiss her shoulder and toy with her nipple. Her heart was pounding with anticipation, and she bit her lip hard when she heard the rustle of fabric and some movement behind her before she felt the tip of him at her entrance, teasing her.

“Klaus,” she breathed impatiently, looking behind her to see him looking down at her with want and something that resembled affection. Her heart fluttered in her chest, and she took in a sharp breath as he bent to press his chest against her back, his voice low as he pressed open-mouthed kisses to her shoulder blades, speaking between each one.

“You’re so fucking beautiful like this, sweetheart. Bent over with your pretty arse in the air...”

She pressed back against him to try to get him to speed up and push inside of her, and he groaned, his hands pressing into her hips to hold her in place. “So impatient,” he murmured, and she huffed, curling her fingers into the sheets.

“I was promised rough,” she reminded, and he chuckled, pressing one last kiss to her spine before filling her with one thrust of his hips.

He definitely didn’t disappoint, fucking her hard and fast, his fingers rubbing her clit as he spoke to her, beginning to outline some of the fantasies he’d had of her while he was watching her shelve books, his voice growing thicker with lust as he spoke and listened for her reaction.

“I wanted to watch you drape your legs over the armrests of one of the chairs, watch you touch yourself,” he said, his voice a low growl, pinching her ass lightly when she moaned, the sharp pain a delicious contrast to the way his cock felt inside of her that it made her whimper out his name, her high building steadily, every part of her achingly sensitive for his touch. “Even more now, I want you to show me how you like it, what you do when you come around your own fingers wishing it was my cock. I must admit I’m not sure if I could let you finish without the chance to touch you. Perhaps you’d let me watch up close. Would you like that, Caroline? For me to kneel between your thighs and watch you touch yourself until I grow impatient and convince you to let me replace your hands with my tongue?”

“Yes,” she hissed, nodding. She heard him chuckle, felt his hands wrap around her thighs to adjust her position to get deeper, and she swore when he started to move faster.

“I’d love to taste you,” he said, his breathing harsher now, tone rough with lust. “Perhaps during the day, sneaking you off to a back section where people hardly ever wander. Watching you struggle to stifle your moans of my name would be as much a pleasure as making you come on my tongue.”

She was more than a little turned on by the idea of someone walking in on them having sex in the back of the shop, a soft gasp escaping her as he finished speaking, and he chuckled quietly. “Does that appeal to you, then? Spreading your legs for me in secret, knowing that at any moment someone could walk in and see you with your legs wrapped around me, moaning my name? Or perhaps on your knees? I’ve often wondered what your lips would look like wrapped around my cock...”

She moaned softly, clenching around him as he spoke. He was into the dirty talk thing, clearly, and the filthy words that were coming out of his mouth in his rough growl through gritted teeth were definitely the hottest thing she’d ever heard in her life. His breathing was heavier between words now, thick with want, and she could tell from how tightly he was gripping her hips and the strain in his voice that he was trying to hold himself back from coming, clearly wanting her to fall apart first. She was so close...

“Keep talking,” she panted out, and he chuckled.

“You make the most beautiful sounds, Caroline. It would almost be a pity to stifle them, but I think it would be just as sweet to watch you lick my come from your lips.”

She felt her muscles grow tight, her toes curling as he brought her to the edge, her breathing shallow and fast. He pinched her clit and dragged his teeth along her shoulder, and she licked her lips when he offered her his wrist, holding it in front of her mouth as an invitation. She could feel her gums break as her fangs pushed through, hear the rush of the blood in his veins even as the sound of skin against skin filled the room. Klaus’s encouraging groan when she ran her tongue along his wrist was all she needed to hear before she pierced his skin, moaning at his taste and tipping over the edge, taking just a few gulps before withdrawing and running the tip of her tongue along the closing wound to get every last drop. She felt him come inside her as she nipped his wrist with her blunt teeth, his body a comfortably heavy weight on hers before he rolled off of her. She shifted to face him, breathing hard, and she moaned when his hand moved between her thighs to build her up again.

He looked at her, reaching to wipe blood from her lips with his other hand and groaning softly when she licked it from his thumb before laying back so that he could climb on top of her, spreading her legs for his fingers, needing more.

His nails dug into her hip as he bent to press kisses to her neck, his cock hardening against her thigh when she tangled her fingers in his hair and traced his spine, breath hot on her neck. She took a sharp breath when he lazily circled her clit with a slick finger, her eyes widening when he spoke. His tone was smoother now, more seductive than rough and heated, and it only took a few words for her to realize that if she thought that he’d be satisfied with just one day with her, and she with him, she was sorely mistaken.

“We’re not so different, you and I, Caroline. We’re predators. I love the thrill of the chase, the anticipation, the catch. You’re a different sort of monster. You’re a temptress, luring your prey to you with just a simple look and finishing them before they realized that the pretty girl they thought they’d chased so easily had teeth when they got too close. I’m not fool enough to think that you’re mine already. We’ve only just begun. But tell me, Caroline, have you ever considered letting anyone close enough to catch you?”

She took a deep shaky breath, moaning as he began to press inside of her again, her walls stretching deliciously to accommodate him. She tried to gather every shred of annoyance she’d felt for him over the last month and a half to channel it into a stubborn glare, barely managing to keep her voice from being too breathless. “Not yet.”

He pushed himself on his elbows as he moved, the pace slower than it had been before but just as pleasurable, and her breath caught when she saw the way he was looking at her, drinking in every slight shift of her expression as though memorizing it.

“Perhaps one day you’ll let me.”

#klaroline #klaroline drabbles #klaroline drabble #klaroline smut #klaroline fanfiction #my fanfiction #mydrabbles #lalainajanes #ask #answer

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sumergosuigeneris · 6 years ago

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January 26, 2019, Part I

Why on the days I have to get up early for work or school is it sooo hard to wake up, I’m sooo exhausted, but on the days I don’t have to get up early, I wake up early naturally?

I did a little research last night to see if there is some natural clerical promotion about executive assistant - it would make it easier than trying to get into project management titles. Damn if I didn’t come across an article from 2015 talking about the renaissance of EAs. That EAs to crazy important shit, get tons of responsibility, and are paid properly for it. That you could have an amazing/interesting career as an EA, and make mad money, depending on how you play it. That was surprising as shit to me, because that is NOT the paradigm I grew up in. And the article acknowledged that too - that there’s still a lot of stigma in the title. And that was the crux of it for me. Secretaries being seen by society as just typing up shit for people, low level stuff. And EAs, like senior secretaries, being mostly just senior people (been there a long time), who type shit and answer phones for senior leaders. Basically what I do now, except email and mostly for calendaring purposes. Very unfulfilling, but not the point. I thought that if you got to do cool shit, which I have gotten to do (in my last job, certainly not this one), you were doing things above the job description due to your individual talents, and that you certainly wouldn’t get paid for those talents. This tells me otherwise. That the things I thought were above and beyond for secretaries and EAs *can* be within the job description, but NOT unreasonably - you can get paid well. It certainly explains why they require bachelors and sometimes master’s for certain positions.The stigma of the titles are still there, but more and more people are respecting what clerical workers are able to do, have always been able to do (probably). And well, money is a huge factor in respect. When you respect what people do, you pay them more. But also, when you pay someone a lot of money, you (at least before you get to know the individual) assume they are highly values and thus treat them with respect. This is a bit of a game-changer for me. Certainly fucks with my paradigm.

Reminds me of how even the advice I used to give people in undergrad is out of date now, even though I graduated just a few years ago. It’s an important lesson/reminder. You could be the shit - knowing everything about something, being very experienced in it. BUT, if you don’t keep up with trends and changes, at least informationally, you can quickly become out of touch. That’ll either make you a dinosaur or seem like a dinosaur. Both are terrible, and really have significant qualities into how someone sees you, now and in the future. It’s bad if you are a dinosaur, but worse if you’re not a dinosaur but for a brief moment (until your course correction is identified and completed) you seem like one.

I think it’s a good reason for switching jobs, switching companies, and even switching industries. Just because one department or company or industry has a certain culture, doesn’t mean it carries beyond its particular boundaries.

Huh. I’d really only thought one had to keep up with certain types of knowledge. Like, in science you *have* to read journals, go to conferences and talks, to keep up with the latest. In business, you have to do marketing research, focus groups, etc... to keep up with what consumers want, etc... I never really thought about work cultures. Certainly not seriously. And I guess I owe it all to the changes in my undergrad institution. I’m used to higher ed moving relatively slowly. So to find out my sucky institution might actually make changes temporally close to when I used to complain about things. That was shocking. And hard to wrap my head around lol. As I’ve been going on, I’ve not kept up with them, at all in the last 6 months at least. I don’t think they’re magically a Good School in the 3? years since I graduated. But I suspect that individual departments or programs are better. I mean, I was shocked and vindicated to learn the chemistry department instituted some of my programmatic ‘suggestions’ within a year or two of my not taking classes with them. Some of my suggestions were critically assessing issues within the department with various faculty. Some were programs I created within the chemistry club (which that douche bag destroyed within 30 days of me not being the president). The point is, they heard me, and as soon as they could reasonably deny they were my ideas, the instituted them, and made them at least semi-permanent. That’s huge win. Not just for me, or for the students those improvements are helping. But it means that some of the existing faculty aren’t completely terrible at the teacher part of being a professor, and are willing still to acknowledge they can do things to improve. That also means, and maybe I’m extrapolating here, but it also means the old farts are willing to make space at the table for new faculty. Oh, that’s a good point too. The Chem dept, along with a number of other depts, had a significant % of faculty in retirement range. New blood, especially in bulk, really helps jump-start change. Note: it’s not just the quality of faculty/administrators at my undergrad that stifled innovation and change. It’s a significant variable that must be acknowledged - lack of money. And the lack of money isn’t just due to the quality of faculty/administrators at my undergrad. It goes back to that systemic issue of higher ed. How we pay for it, and how that paradigm as changed and/or hardened over that last few decades. That paradigm rewards success, gives money to those who already have it, etc... Sound familiar?

If we gave money to those who need it, gave money to help people/programs get off the ground, we’d a) have better ROI over time, and b) have a shit ton of excellent colleges and universities, instead of the relative handful we have (last time I checked there were over 4000 colleges and universities in the US, can’t remember if that includes community colleges, or if that even really matters), and c) have a much better educated populace in the aggregate. Et cetera, et cetera.

It’s a reason I love Francis Collins. He’s implemented changes in how the NIH funds junior vs. senior researchers. It’s obnoxious that a faculty member with a 60 person lab, and a shit ton of top research grants could continue to get more funding for more projects, but the first year assistant professor can’t even get a little grant. Grateful he’s changing that. And other changes are happening too. But again, those changes are relatively slow to spread.

Anyway, not sure how I got onto this long ass post. Last night, I was wondering why I even write this anymore. Is it even helping my mental health anymore? Is it even making me feel more connected and less lonely anymore?

#me

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wellhalesbells · 8 years ago

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If you have the time and if you don't mind, what are some books you really recommend? Doesn't have to be all time faves, but anything that pops into mind that you want more ppl to read and love, Extra points if lgbt+ , i got the whole summer with little to do and i wanna spend it reading some good quality writing and honestly so far your recs have introduced me to so many faves its unbelievable

[blushes profusely] oh wow, thank you!!! i’m so glad you’ve trusted me enough to check out some of the stuff i reblog; that is like the ultimate compliment, i can’t even??? i don’t mind at all(!), fair warning though: i only started recording what i read partway through last year and my mind is like a sieve so i’ll do my absolute best to remember what’s sang to me in the recent past. warning number two: i’m in an open relationship with absolutely every genre out there so i’ll try to note which belongs where so you can avoid those that hold no interest for you.

LGBT+

i’ll give you the sun. i loved this book, the writing is fucking transformative and all the characters are so damn likable, while still being realistically flawed human beings.

the raven cycle (tetralogy). definitely my favorite series since harry potter. the writing, the world-building, the characters, it’s all on top-form. i wrote a little, mini non-spoilery review of it: here, back when i was better (worse?) wordly-wise and my feels were brand new.

more happy than not. i’m still not sure how i feel about this book. it was hard, but it felt very true to the characters and the lingo and style matched the ages of the players and i have a lot of respect for that.

the watchmaker of filigree street. woooow i loved this book. i admit ‘historical fiction’ kind of makes me cringe. it never precludes me from reading a book but it does knock it down the list by a book or five because they’re often very dense and very clunky and end up taking me ages to get through. but this one was gorgeous. i loved the plot, the attention lovingly placed on every character and the historical elements. the surprise gay in an already brilliant book felt like winning the lottery honestly.

captive prince (trilogy). okay, truthfully, i’m only putting this on here because the second book is such a high point for me. it was never bad at any point but it had unfortunately been hyped far too much for it to live up to my, admittedly, very high expectations. hopefully it’ll fare better with you?

everything i never told you. i go back and forth on this one. i like the writing a lot, i like the LGBT aspect a lot, and i like the mystery aspect a lot but there are definitely characters i would cut out entirely for sheer predictability if i could and that killed a lot of my enjoyment at the time (but i think much more highly of it in retrospect?). so, take that as you like.

aristotle and dante discover the secrets of the universe. if there’s a book that handles its characters with more care or respect or consideration then i haven’t run into it. i love the way this is written and the people it’s populated with.

flying lessons & other stories. a bunch of uber talented authors writing a bunch of uber diverse and LGBT-focused stories and, yes, that is exactly as awesome as it sounds.

the song of achilles. it is utterly heart-breaking but so rich, honestly.

FANTASY

the diviners. (also has a minor LGBT character, who may play a bigger role in the sequel?) fair warning, i have not read the sequel, lair of dreams, because it is somehow still not out in paperback (yes, i read physical books, yes, i pretty exclusively read paperbacks so i can lug them everywhere with me, YES, I PRE-ORDERED THIS ALMOST TWO YEARS AGO AND IT’S STILL NOT OUT, NOT THAT I’M BITTER ABOUT THAT OR ANYTHING) so i can’t speak to that one finishing on a high note as i don’t know. but this was the first historical novel i managed to like in a long while. it does such a good job of fusing in 1920s lingo and dress and aspects that i couldn’t help but love it. add in the fantasy elements and i can admit i’m the perfect sucker for it.

the scorpio races. i’m not sure why but it took me a long-ass time to get into this book, i wasn’t flipping pages with gusto until well towards the end but - especially as i was reading so much YA at the time - i really appreciated coming across a romance that lets both people come into it as themselves and stay themselves, neither puck nor sean were ever smashed or crumpled or shaved away to fit into their relationship, which was so refreshing. plus the water horses were fucking cool.

the night circus. the writing, the atmosphere, the circus. just… it is all very whoa.

all the birds in the sky. i loved this writing style and these characters and the magical elements.

CONTEMPORARY

i’ll meet you there. there was something about this and i just… ended up liking it way more than i expected to. i might’ve just read it at exactly the right time, i’m not sure, but i really enjoyed it.

the invoice. this is honestly just hella cute and so freaking surreal. swedes, man.

NON-FICTION

why not me? i like mindy kaling a lot. i make no apologies for that. plus you can read both her books in about five seconds, haha.

SCIENCE FICTION

station eleven. i loved this book. the way the narrative is woven is so refreshing and i wish the comic book miranda was writing in this book was a real thing more than anything else in the woooorld.

illuminae. hot DAMN this book was cool. the plot was rock solid, the characters were hilarious and badass and the graphics made out of text and spiraling words and just the way this thing is put together? shit, it’s worth your money and then some.

a robot in the garden. okay this is just cute as hell. i can’t even with tang, he’s the most adorable robot to ever adorable.

annihilation (southern reach trilogy). (LGBT minor characters.) okay, honestly? i don’t know. this was freaking zany but i was invested as fuck in all the kookiness for reasons i can’t articulately elaborate on.

the martian. hilarious, engaging, SPACE. what more do you want?

HORROR

things we lost in the fire. this is more atmospheric than anything but, damn, could this get me wishing i wasn’t reading this in the dark or looking over my shoulder to make absolutely sure no one was standing behind me. it’s a book of short stories (by the way, i love books of short stories and i definitely realize that is not true for everyone) and each one is so well-delivered and stylized. i really enjoyed reading this.

let the right one in. okay, this is legit horror so definitely stay away if you’re easily squicked out but it is harrrrrd to find good horror (at least in my opinion) and this definitely, definitely qualifies.

horrorstör. i honestly had such low expectations for this, a horror story set in a wannabe-ikea, but it ended up being so ridiculous and strange and funny that i was won over by the finish.

the girl with all the gifts. holy unique and well-executed zombie idea, batman!

SHORT STORIES

the bigness of the world. there were definitely ones here that hit better than others but the ones i liked, i really liked!

GRAPHIC NOVELS (i read a lot of these so, um, prepare yourself)

saga. (LGBT minor characters as well.) this is world-building to a degree that i’m convinced did not exist before. just, i can’t say enough amazing things about this series and the staggering amount of imagination that regularly goes into it.

ms. marvel. heart-warming as fuck. it’s definitely really easy to lose faith in the world these days, luckily kamala is there to remind you that people are primarily and genuinely good.

black science. this is another one that took just an insane amount of imagination to cook up. i got off to kind of a rocky start with this one but the gray-ness of all the characters really speaks to me, and that doesn’t really blossom until later in the series.

spider-man/deadpool. this was very satisfying for my super duper spideypool-shipping mind. joe and ed did us so good, and joe basically said in his sign-off: i made it absolutely as gay as they would let me, haha.

the wicked + the divine. (LGBT minor characters that you’re going to get way too attached to, and retroactively. it’s awful [sobs].) the concept for this, gods reincarnating into teenagers before they burn up their hosts after a predetermined set of time, is so fucking cool. the humor and the characters and the plot is all just aces.

iceman (LGBT MAIN CHARACTER). okay, so this just started. like issue #2 was only released days ago but 1) i am liking it so far and 2) marvel did it so dirty and barely advertised bobby - an openly homosexual superhero - was getting his own series, like, i found out about it the day before it went on sale and i keep my ear fairly close to the ground (not as close as some BY A LOT, but closer than the lay person i’d say) so if you can support it, please do! pre-orders mean a lot in terms of numbers. :))))

descender. admittedly, this starts out rooough. because the main character, TIM-21 (and his little dog too), are annoying as hell. he’s an android so there’s no dimension to him so he’s booooring as all get out but i am so glad i stuck with it through to the next trade because, probably picking up on the unsustainability of him as a main character, he gets shuffled off and the side characters get the stage and they rock so hard.

paper girls. (LGBT main characters.) i’m kind of just convinced that brian k. vaughan can do no wrong at this point. his plots are so tight and mind-blowing and badass.

monstress. here’s a little tid-bit about me: female comic book writers are 100% more likely to get my money and my time because they are so damn rare and this series is unique, badass, and eye-opening.

black monday murders. i’m a little premature with this since there’s only one volume and i usually try to wait until there are at least two but i check up on a volume two a lot so that definitely means something intrigued me!

nailbiter. okay, i haven’t read the final volume yet ‘cause i’m reluctant to let it go but, so far, a series about multiple serial killers all being from the same town has me VERY HOOKED.

i wish i could remember more but this is honestly way better than i expected to do, haha. they’re definitely not all my all-time faves but they’re ones that have stuck with me for one reason or another and that i didn’t feel i wasted my time on, so that’s something, right? i hope this helps get you started and that you don’t think too awfully of me when you inevitably run across ones that aren’t your cup of tea!

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tachyonpub · 7 years ago

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Kameron Hurley’s APOCALYPSE NYX will blow you away

GRIMDARK MAGAZINE recommends Kameron Hurley’s forthcoming APOCALYPSE NYX.

APOCALYPSE NYX is the new collection of novelettes from multi-award-winning author Kameron Hurley (The Stars are Legion, the Worldbreaker Saga, and the God’s War Trilogy), and make no mistake: it’s grimdark AF. Set in the world of the God’s War Trilogy, the stories’ titular anti-hero, mercenary and bounty hunter, Nyx (Nyxnissa so Dasheen) might be the grimmest darkest badass protagonist I’ve come across in SFF. With maybe an exception or two, she doesn’t give a crap about anything but the job and the money, and maybe the whisky… and maybe the fucking.

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The magic, violence, action, and twisting plots are great in their own right, but these are character-driven stories ferociously propelled by Nyx’s fierce and implacable personality. She can move from wanting to fuck Khos to killing him for the job in a heartbeat. She admires Rhys’s delicate features and devout nature but he’s just a Chenjan deserter and if he doesn’t like the work, he can fuck off. Rhys serves as her unwanted moral conscience and she hates him for that. Her best mate is Anneke because she is always ready with the guns and the whisky even if she is always way too wasted and nearly gets them all killed in a drug-induced psychotic outburst. Nyx’s love-hate relationships with her messed up crew and herself provides full-depth intellectual and emotional stimulation on top of the insane plots and twists of these compelling though somewhat conventional conflicts. Yes, the stories and the way they are plotting are extremely engaging, but you are definitely reading about Nyx in this book and what she actually does provides the backdrop on which Hurley paints a truly fascinating and absurdly screwed up character. It is not the high concept SFF that her award-winning and excellent novel The Stars Are Legion is, but I happen to love successful character-driven fiction, and this is primarily the reason I absolutely love APOCALYPSE NYX and intend to purchase God’s War as soon as I catch up on my reviews.

I usually talk about themes in reviews because I think they contribute to what the reader takes away from a book. Forget about it. Just let APOCALYPSE NYX blow you away with its deep portrayal of a person in constant intellectual and moral crisis, and don’t worry about what it means. You will be immersed in love, lust, hate, revenge, desire, and will question the value of human life. You will empathize with Nyx for her faults yet be appalled at her lack of human conscience. It’s a heady mix and entertaining as hell.

Is it grimdark? You bet your ass it is. Try not to root for Nyx as she blasts away innocents who happen to be in the way of the next payoff. It’s impossible. And the question of grey morality itself makes a couple of unobtrusive appearances in the stories and in the delightful banter between her crew of freaks. If you’re reading this review, then you obviously appreciate grimdark. Grab this nice introduction to Nyx’s life and world. You won’t regret it. Most highly recommended.

The translated The Stars Are Legion is a finalist for the 2018 Ignotus Awards, given annually to the best Spanish science fiction and fantasy publications.

Foreign novel

Behind Their Eyes by Sarah Pinborough (ed. Alianza)

The Archive of Atrocities by Charles Stross (ed. Unusual)

Fuego by Joe Hill (ed. Nocturna)

The Fifth Season by NK Jemisin (ed. B)

The Stars Are Legion by Kameron Hurley (ed. Alianza)

Congrats to all the finalists.

The new episode of Hurley’s monthly rant/podcast GET TO WORK HURLEY is available for your listening pleasure.

EPISODE NINE: Real talk about why women in every industry are done with the bullshit, why it’s OK to delete Facebook (yes, even if you have books to promote!), writing and mental health, and some advance craft discussions about how to manage burnout and writing expectations.

Hurley contributed the article “On Patience, Goal-Setting, and Gardening” to the June 2018 issue of LOCUS.

What all of this work has taught me are lessons I sorely need repeated: the importance of planning, goal setting, and patience. We want everything all at once in our culture. We want our first book to sell millions. We want our first job to lead us to greatness. We want everything now, immediately. To have to wait, to toil for it, can make us frustrated. But the truth is that there are so many things we simply won’t ever achieve unless we strive to complete them a piece at a time, like this garden. If, standing in the middle of those lots, I thought about all the time and money it would take and just gave up, I would never be standing in this garden, amazed to have taken a vision from my head and made it into a tangible thing.

And so it is with writing a difficult book. The toil can be frustrating and intense. There are times when you feel alone and disheartened. You feel you’ll die before you finish.

It’s the ability to envision something that doesn’t exist, that, perhaps, makes us believe in the act of creation. I’ve learned that the trick of seeing past what is to what may be isn’t necessarily a trait shared by everyone. Watching a few episodes of House Hunters will demonstrate that effectively. Imagination is a skill that must be honed and sharpened like any other. I’ve found myself leaning hard on my imagination more recently, trying to imagine my way out of a future that seems increasingly bleak.

Have you entered the Kameron Hurley’s APOCALYPSE NYX Sweepstakes?

For more info on APOCALYPSE NYX, visit the Tachyon page.

Cover by Wadim Kashin

Design by Elizabeth Story

#kameron hurley #apocalypse nyx #grimdark magazine #review #get to work hurley #podcast #las estrellas son legión #ignotus awards #the stars are legion #locus magazine #wadim kashin #elizabeth story

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papermoonloveslucy · 4 years ago

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ORSON WELLES RADIO ALMANAC

March 9, 1944

“Orson Welles Almanac” (1944) is a CBS Radio series directed and hosted by Orson Welles. Broadcast live in California and Arizona via CBS West Coast studios, the 30-minute program was heard Wednesdays at 9:30pm beginning January 26, 1944. Its last broadcast was July 19, 1944. Orson Welles Almanac presented readings from classic works, drama, music, sketch comedy, magic, mindreading, and personal commentary by Welles. Many of the shows originated from US Army camps where Welles entertained the troops. Welles had an ongoing battle with the program's sponsor, Mobil Oil, which shortened the life of the series. Twenty six broadcasts were produced; all but four shows have survived.

This is the seventh episode of the series, aired on March 9, 1944. Previous guests were Groucho Marx, Lionel Barrymore, Ann Sothern, Robert Benchley, Hedda Hopper, and Victor Moore. Lucille Ball would return to the series to guest star on May 3, 1944. Unfortunately, this is one of the four lost episodes.

CAST

Lucille Ball (Guest Star) was then filming Ziegfeld Follies for release in 1945. Her films Best Foot Forward and Thousands Cheer (both released in 1943) were then in local cinemas. Ball was in her fourth year of a rocky marriage to Desi Arnaz, who she would divorce in September 1944, although the papers were never officially filed. The week prior to this broadcast, Ball guest starred on Bing Crosby’s radio show “Music Hall”.

Orson Welles arrived in Hollywood in 1939 when Ball was a contract player at RKO Studios. To squelch rumors that he was a homosexual, the studio sent Lucy to escort him to a premiere to be photographed. He later recalled,

“We went to see the opening of some movie or other—I simply picked her up at her house and we went to the movie and got photographed and came home and I said ‘Good night,’ and that was the end of that. That was the end of that romance, but it was the beginning of a long friendship.”

A veteran of the theatre, in 1941 the actor / director completed his magnum opus film Citizen Kane. In the 1950s he was under contract to Desilu to film a pilot for an anthology series called “The Fountain of Youth,” which wasn’t aired until 1958 and did not result in a series. Despite that, it won a Peabody Award, the only pilot to ever do so.

On February 5, 1956 Lucy and Desi appeared with Welles on Ed Sullivan’s “Toast of the Town.” They were there to promote their film Forever Darling. Welles was there to promote his revival of his King Lear at New York’s City Center, which he initially performed in a wheelchair due to injuries to both ankles. By the time he performed it on “Toast of the Town” (aka “The Ed Sullivan Show”) Welles was using a crutch.

When the Oscar-winning actor and director was down on his luck he was invited to stay in the Arnaz guest cottage. Notorious for his drinking and rude behavior, Lucy had to find a way to politely get rid of her guest so she decided to have an episode of “I Love Lucy” written for him so she could pay him a salary. With that in mind, Desilu paid him the exorbitant sum of $15,000! Ball’s memories of Welles were mixed. “I had a real love-hate relationship with Orson,” she said towards the end of her life. “His mind was awesome…but he was also a pain in the ass.”

At the time of this broadcast (March 8, 1944) Welles’ film Jane Eyre was playing in cinemas.

Ella Mae Morse (Musical Guest) was signed by Jimmy Dorsey at the age of 14 (she lied about her age and said she was 19) and was subsequently fired after discovering the truth about her age. Her recording of "Cow Cow Boogie" was the first million-selling single for Capitol Records in 1942. Her biggest hit was "The Blacksmith Blues" released in February 1952. The song she sings here, “Shoo-Shoo Baby” (written by Phil Moore), would be heard in the about-to-be-released film South of Dixie in which she played Barbara Ann Morgan.

Agnes Moorehead (Prudence Pratt / Miss Grimace / Swoon Club Girl) was a member of Welles’ Mercury Theatre on stage and radio as well as starring in Welles’ films Citizen Kane and The Magnificent Ambersons. She is best remembered as Endora, Samantha’s mother-in-law on TV’s “Bewitched”.

Hans Conried (Colonel Peabristle / Hotel Operator / Frenchman / Dr. Snake Oil / Flat Top) first co-starred with Lucille Ball in The Big Street (1942). After being a recurring guest on her radio show “My Favorite Husband” (1948-51), he appeared on “I Love Lucy” as used furniture man Dan Jenkins in “Redecorating” (ILL S2;E8) and later that same season as Percy Livermore in “Lucy Hires an English Tutor” (ILL S2;E13) – both in 1952. The following year he began an association with Disney by voicing Captain Hook in Peter Pan. On “The Lucy Show” he played Professor Gitterman in “Lucy’s Barbershop Quartet” (TLS S1;E19) and in “Lucy Plays Cleopatra” (TLS S2;E1). He was probably best known as Uncle Tonoose on “Make Room for Daddy” starring Danny Thomas, which was filmed on the Desilu lot. He joined Thomas on a season 6 episode of “Here’s Lucy” in 1973.

The All-Star Jazz Group: Mutt Carey (trumpet), Kid Ory (trombone), Jimmy Noone (clarinet), Buster Wilson (piano), Bud Scott (guitar), Ed Garland (bass), and Zutty Singleton (drums).

John McIntire (Announcer)

EPISODE

Orson Welles introduces the episode, opening with a Household Hint by Prudence Pratt and a Wonders of Science fact by Colonel Peabristle. After the opening music and Mobil Oil sponsorship message, Welles summons his secretary Miss Grimace to tell him who is on the show tonight. She reports that it is Miss Lucille Ball, although she hasn’t arrived yet. Welles says she is filing her tax forms.

WELLES: “Can you imagine. The Government wants Lucille Ball to fill in HER form!”

Miss Grimace admits the three members of The Orson Welles Swoon Club. Welles interrogates them as to their whereabouts during his public appearances. He wants new members, promising them nylons.

Oops! Welles mis-reads the script, saying “nylon baby socks” instead of “nylon bobby sox”. He corrects himself with a laugh and says “For me, it’s booby socks!” Bobby soxer is a term for the wildly enthusiastic, teenage female fans of 1940s music, particularly Frank Sinatra.

Orson wants to know if they have gotten the new photographs he sent them. One of the Swoon Club compliments him on how he looks in his sarong - mistaking him for Dororthy Lamour in a Bob Hope / Bing Crosby picture.

Dorothy Lamour was nicknamed ‘The Sarong Girl’. In 1936 she donned her soon-to-be-famous sarong for her debut at Paramount, The Jungle Princess (1936), and continued to play similar parts through the war years and beyond. The most famous of these was in the popular Bob Hope / Bing Crosby "Road" pictures - a combination of adventure, music, and slapstick.

The Swoon Club feel sorry for Orson that he hasn’t won an Oscar, so they knit him a tie - which started out as a pair of socks.He dismisses the club.

When the 16th Academy Awards were distributed at Grauman's Chinese Theatre on Thursday, March 2, 1944, neither of Welles’ 1943 motion pictures were among the nominees: Jane Eyre and Journey Into Fear, which he also co-directed and co-wrote. Welles shared a 1942 Oscar with Herman Mankiewicz for writing Citizen Kane, a bone of contention between them, since Mankiewicz later claimed he wrote the entire script. The backstory is explored in the modern film Mank (2020).

Miss Grimace reports that the Hotel Carlton is suing him. After he did a magic show there, the two rabbits ran rampant and did damage! Orson calls the hotel operator (Hans Conried) and learns that the hotel is now called the Carlton Rabbit Farm and the manager’s eyes have turned pink! Welles asks Miss Grimace to send Lucille Ball roses. Miss Grimace says they are too expensive and he should send her something simpler, like phoenicia vulgaris. Welles says no because it sounds too dirty.

Here Welles ad libs, causing Agnes Moorehead to break character and laugh. He mentions Lewis Titterton, the NBC censor and says “If you had a name like Louis Titterton anything would sound dirty. Let’s get back to the script.” They try, but it takes a moment for their laughter to subside.

A Frenchman from a reducing salon (Hans Conried) approaches him for an estimate on a new body. He measures Welles’ body with a tape measure. He was once the girdle coordinator at Bullocks basement for 15 years.

FRENCHMAN: “If a size 44 tries to get into a 38, I help push!”

Announcer John McIntire does a live commercial for Mobilgas with some driving tips.

PART 2

Before a musical introduction, Dr. Snake Oil (Hans Conried) gives a tip about dislodging a fishbone caught in the throat.

The All-Star Jazz Group plays "Bésame Mucho" ("Kiss me a lot"), a song written in 1940 by Consuelo Velázquez. It is now considered one of the most popular songs of the 20th century and of all times. It is also the most recorded and covered song in Spanish of all time.

Welles welcomes Lucille Ball to the show to studio audience applause. Welles says he’s written a sketch full of romantic love scenes. Orson improvs a commercial for a sponsor Krunchies, a noisy breakfast cereal that gets soggy in milk. He introduces...

“THE CASE OF THE BLUE BLOOD STAIN”

Orson plays Mickey, a detective on his night off, reading the evening paper. Lucy plays his adoring wife, Dora.

DORA: “Mickey, where were you last night?” MICKEY: “Don’t be silly, you know how I feel about you. You’re the eighth wonder of the world.” DORA: “Yeah, well, just don’t let me catch you with the other seven, bub!”

Lounging in bed, Dora feels a cold hand which doesn’t belong to Mickey. She screams! There’s a dead man in their bed.

MICKEY: “You know how difficult it is to find a room these days.”

Detective Mickey notes that the dead man has 18 knife wounds in him and no holes in his shirt.

DORA: “Must have been an inside job.”

They push the body off the bed and decide to turn out the lights and go to sleep. In the darkness, they hear a squeaky door.

WELLES (aside): “Fine thing, a squeaky door in an oil program!”

The audience loudly applauds this ad-lib by Welles, and even Lucy chuckles.

Dora insists there’s someone in the closet. A body falls out of the closet and onto the floor with a loud thud. Someone throws a rock through their bedroom window with a note on it.

Except the sound effect of broken glass does not happen. Welles laughs a bit but forges ahead.

MICKEY (reading the note): “Keep your mouth shut and throw a thousand dollars out of the window or you’ll never get another sounds effect...no, excuse me... or they’ll be four bodies in your room.”

Another rock comes through the window - with a sound effect this time!

MICKEY (reading the note): "PS: I’ll settle for $950.”

A knock at the front door.

MICKEY: “That must be the murderer. Come in! I’ll take that line again: That must be the murderer. Come in!”

The man, Flat Top (Hans Conried), pulls a gun on them and threatens to shoot.

DORA: “Where’s your patriotism? You can’t shoot him. Don’t you know the government is trying to save waste fats?”

During World War II, the US government urged Americans to save excess fat rendered from cooking and donate it to the army to produce explosives. Fats are used to make glycerin, and glycerin is used to make things blow up.

As gunfire rings out, Welles does a Krunchies commercial, extolling their virtues with strawberries and cream.

WELLES: “You can have strawberries and cream. What do you need Krunchies for?”

Mickey is bleeding. During the commercial, Mickey has hit Flat Top on the head and called the police!

John McIntire does a commercial for Mobil Oil. He urges motorists to keep their car oil clean to avoid repairs.

PART THREE

Welles introduces Ella Mae Morse, who sings “Shoo-Shoo Baby” backed by the All-Star Jazz Group.

The song was also heard in the 1944 film Follow The Boys aka Three Cheers for the Boys sung by the Andrews Sisters.

Welles then takes a serious tone, dedicating the show to the premise that ‘every man belongs to all men.’ He reads from “Meditation 17″ by John Donne (1572-1631).

Nunc Lento Sonitu Dicunt, Morieris. Now this bell, tolling softly for another, says to me, Thou must die.

All mankind is of one author, and is one volume; when one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language; and every chapter must be so translated; God employs several translators; some pieces are translated by age, some by sickness, some by war, some by justice; but God's hand is in every translation, and his hand shall bind up all our scattered leaves again for that library where every book shall lie open to one another. And therefore the bell that rings to a sermon calls not upon the preacher only, but upon the congregation to come, so this bell calls us all; Who bends not his ear to any bell which upon any occasion rings? But who can remove it from that bell which is passing a piece of himself out of this world?

No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were: any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.

Welles bids the audience goodnight.

#Orson Welles #Lucille Ball #1944 #Hans Conried #John Donne #Ella Mae Morse #Agnes Moorehead #Besame Mucho #Shoo-Shoo Baby #John McIntire #CBS Radio #Dorothy Lamour #Mobil Oil

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