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But my body was like a harp and her words and gestures were like fingers running upon the wires.
James Joyce, Araby
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tiny-tany-thaanos · 2 years
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tiny-farlavia · 2 years
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theletterunread · 2 years
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Books in 2020
Since this year is preserved in amber, I’ve done a much better job remembering the books I read as compared to 2019. Only six books have turned to dust in my mind.¹ On the other hand, I only read about two-thirds as many books as usual. It’s a minor example of the way the pandemic crabbed everyone’s life in 2020, but it can be added to the quilt.
Almost everything we did that year was dictated by the practicalities the pandemic forced on us. In a dull way, that “looking inward” we all had so much time to do strongly shaped this list, particularly the middle of it: when I needed something to read, I could only look inside my apartment.
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Fates and Furies, Lauren Groff (Jan. 2-17)
Lots of acclaim for this book. All of it misplaced. The main problem is that the novel concerns (in part) one character’s brilliantly written plays. But on the basis of the material we see, the plays are pretty weak, so the credibility of the larger story is shot. I suppose the character’s work is as good as the writing in this novel itself, which I also thought little of. Tediously dour (it takes place in a world where, apparently, nobody has ever laughed or been laughed at) and full of sentences that sound clever, but don’t actually mean anything (to paraphrase a movie). Barack Obama said it was his most enjoyed book of 2015, which I have to hope was just the stress of the job getting to him.
Sabrina, Nick Drnaso (Jan. 2-5)
Timeliness is not something that I usually value, but Sabrina makes it seem like a worthy pursuit. It’s about crime and the ugliness of the internet and “fake news,” so it’s sure to grab any contemporary reader’s attention. But the craftsmanship of the art and the intelligence in the writing are so good that this would be an interesting book, even if we lived in Universe B, where those issues aren’t so omnipresent.
Qualification, David Heatley (Jan. 18-23)
I once read Heatley slagging off Monty Python and the Holy Grail on the grounds of it not being wholesome enough. So I shunned him for ten years, until this book popped up at the library. It’s about the numerous 12-step programs Heatley participated in and essentially became addicted to. That irony is sort of analyzed, but not deeply enough to feel that it’s really been addressed. Still, his honesty, the details of how the programs work, and the depictions of the people he meets there are good enough.
The Child in Time, Ian McEwan (Jan. 21-31)
The set-up is a nightmare, one of the scariest things I can imagine – a child is kidnapped and never found – but most of the book deals instead with the aftermath, years later, as the father tries to reintegrate into a world that’s moved on from his horror. The relationship between the main character and his estranged wife is good, and though some of the other threads (political, ghostly) didn’t stick with me so much, the well-captured emotions of the characters alone make this worth a read. I’m only now realizing, with surprise, that I haven’t picked up any of McEwan’s other books since this.
Other People, Joff Winterhart (Jan. 23-27)
Two stories, one about a son and a mother, the other about a son and a father figure. Both a little sad, both a little sweet. The older folks are a bit buffoonish, but turn out to be subtly good influences on the teenagers. I liked that the stories were about young people and drawn in a style that looked like something a high schooler (a talented high schooler!) would have drawn in his or her notebook.
Peepshow, Joe Matt (Jan. 8 - Feb. 1)
Not sure if I remember this one, or if I’m just remembering other Joe Matt comics I’ve seen throughout the years. But either way, I can confidently say that it’s full of frank presentations of Matt’s life and relationships, with no censorship of his most depraved thoughts and behaviors. It’s the sort of thing that could seem false and self-aggrandizing (“I fear not the audience’s gaze, ecce homo, etc, etc”), but in Matt’s case, it never comes off that way. He’s just telling the story as it comes naturally to him, and if you can tolerate his excesses, it’s enjoyable.
Magic Mirrors, John Bellairs (Feb. 1-11)
I have read and re-read all of John Bellairs’ young adult novels, but I had never before attempted his adult work, all of which is anthologized in this book. The Pedant and the Shuffly and St. Fidgita and Other Parodies are forgettable, but The Face in the Frost and its incomplete sequel, The Dolphin Cross, are great fun. They’re both about Prospero, a wizard who does very little magic, and mostly wanders around from one odd, irreverent chapter to another. I most enjoyed the town that disintegrates as Prospero tries to flee, and the dinner scene with the tank of sentient fish.
Into the War, Italo Calvino (Feb. 13-19)
No fantasy, no whimsy, no invention. This is a most un-Calvino-like collection of three short, probably autobiographical stories about being a teenager at the onset of World War II. It’s never terribly interesting, and you start to sense that Calvino felt obligated to write this, as though he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to put his talents to use on off-the-wall novels rather than sober stories of important (“important”) realism (“realism”). What does work, though, is his rendering of teenage life, which seems to be consistent across time and place.
There There, Tommy Orange (Feb. 19-27)
It’s very good. Chapters jump between the stories of a dozen Native Americans in the Oakland area, all of which eventually coalesce gracefully and unpredictably. There’s a lot of nicely rendered detail and effortless intelligence in the characters and the plotting, and there’s the charge that you get from realizing, as you read their stories, how infrequently these stories are told.
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Once I Was Cool, Megan Stielstra (Feb. 28 - Mar. 5)
A collection of essays about being young, about being a thirtysomething, and about being a thirtysomething who’s reminiscing about being young. It’s all fine and Stielstra never once lapses into the sort of loathsome snobbery that you sometimes see in essay collections like this. But none of the material ever achieves escape velocity; it’s always mildly interesting and mildly amusing. There may be some loathsome snobbery at work in me, though: having lived so long in New York, I reflexively view Stielstra's Chicago-based anecdotes as inherently trifling.
L.A. Woman, Eve Babitz (Mar. 6-11)
I don’t think I was at all aware of Babitz’s celebrity when I picked up this book, but even I could tell that it was a memoir disguised as a novel. That works okay – the vision of Los Angeles that she presents (appalling and vicious, yet you wouldn’t want to be left out of it) is powerful in any format – but the book might have been stronger without the vague gestures towards a novelistic structure. Of course, my appraisal came from a distracted mind: this is the book I was reading when the world started to fall apart.
Thieves Fall Out, Cameron Kay (Mar. 13-24)
Written pseudonymously by Gore Vidal for some quick cash. He hoped it would be forgotten, and it was only after his death that it was republished. Vidal was perhaps overly dismissive of the book, but nothing of value would have been lost if the publisher had respected his wishes. The Egyptian setting is decently evoked, and the twists and turns of the pulpy plot are serviceable, but the whole thing is impersonal – surprising for a writer who usually had no trouble putting his voice to work.
The Gigantic Beard That Was Evil, Stephen Collins (Mar. 16-18)
A cute little fairy tale about a neat, orderly island that is disrupted by one man’s beard, which grows and grows until it overwhelms everyone’s existence. It could probably be read successfully as a cheeky story about conformity, but I hope there wasn’t anything that prosaic or moralistic behind it. I like it more as a loony story with no point. The art style reminds me of the end credits of the 2004 film adaptation of A Series of Unfortunate Events ­(which is a compliment, as the credits sequence was the best part of the movie). After I checked out this and the Vidal book, the Los Angeles libraries shut down, even to returns, so these two sat on my table for months.
4 3 2 1, Paul Auster (Mar. 25 - Apr. 18)
Stuck at home, I started reading books that I’d had on the shelf for years, books too heavy to have read during my commute. This one introduced me to the new experience of being disappointed by Paul Auster. It’s not as dazzling as his other books, which usually pack so much invention into a brisk story. Other than the premise (four divergent versions of the same man’s life told concurrently), this one is pretty conventional. And there’s a lot of seen-it-before reminiscences about the America the Boomers grew up in, and the upheavals of the 1960s. Boring material in anyone’s hands. Still, page by page, the writing was good enough. The nested story that his hero writes about the inner life of a pair of shoes was terrific.
Ulysses, James Joyce (Apr. 19 - May 1)
I did read every single word of this, but very little of it stuck with me. Aside from the lines that seemed to cater to me specifically – nostalgia-inducing descriptions of Dublin streets; a gorgonzola sandwich; and an early scene of Bloom talking to his cat (who says, “Mrkgnao!”) – I didn’t understand what I was reading. This is probably due to me not being smart enough, but how about this: Samuel Beckett said that James Joyce “had gone as far as one could in the direction of knowing more…I realized that my own way was impoverishment, in lack of knowledge and in taking away, subtracting rather than adding.” So maybe some of us are wired to receive Joyce, and some of us are wired to receive Beckett.
The Complete Eightball, Daniel Clowes (May 2 - June 7)
I had read most of these stories in reprints and anthologies, but this collection has them as they originally appeared in Clowes’ comic books. This is the best way to read them. A chronological arrangement means you can see the evolution of his talents. Plus, you get the original covers, as well as all the sundry material that filled up the pages between stories, like advertisements, editor’s notes, and letters from readers who accuse him of selling out by moving from Chicago to Oakland. I particularly liked when Clowes encouraged his readers to record their crank calls (“long denied [their] rightful place as one of the great, indigenous American artforms”) and send the tapes to him for evaluation and prizes. The contest is “quite legit, I assure you.”
The End, Karl Ove Knausgaard (May 2-20)
The last of his six-volume autobiography cycle, but the first one I read. The ordinary details of his life are reported nicely, without ornamentation, and the meta-material, as he deals with the fallout from having used his friends and family as grist in the earlier volumes, is candid and reflective. There’s a long and slightly baffling section in the middle where he discusses Hitler’s autobiography, but it makes you feel appreciative: Knausgaard read it so you will never have to.
United States, Gore Vidal (May 21 – June 19)
The best of Vidal. 40 years of essays in one 1,700-page book with miniscule type. There are, of course, lots of good zingers and well-aged material about drug laws, police brutality, and the corruption of the political process. But with such a quantity of work, you get to spot some of his usually deemphasized sweetness. There are warm remembrances of Tennessee Williams and Eleanor Roosevelt and the Wizard of Oz books.
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Flappers and Philosophers and Tales of the Jazz Age, F. Scott Fitzgerald (June 20-30)
19 stories across two collections. Fitzgerald apparently referred to about half of them as “trash,” but I liked them. There’s a good balance of humor and happy endings with some unexpectedly gothic material. “The Diamond as Big as the Ritz,” a gruesome tale about greed and the terrors of rural America, is a standout, and “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button” would be too, if we weren’t already so familiar with the premise.
The Coast of Utopia, Tom Stoppard (July 11-17)
I had this trilogy of plays on my shelf for ten years, carried it between five homes, waiting for the right time to read them, hoping that I would have the opportunity to see them performed first. I should have kept waiting. The scripts are impenetrable, owing mostly to there being several dozen characters (with long Russian names) to keep track of.  
Homegoing, Yaa Gyasi (July 20-25)
The first book in four months that I was able to check out of the library. I had to pick it up in a sanitized paper bag from a branch miles from my home. It was worth the trip. The novel follows two branches of a family down through several generations. One stays in Ghana, the other is taken to America. Each chapter follows a new descendant in the family line, and each time a chapter ended, I was sad to be leaving behind that character and that setting. But every subsequent chapter was just as good, so I was happily swept through to the end.
All Trivia, Logan Pearsall Smith (July 26-30)
It was well reviewed in the Gore Vidal collection. A couple hundred short aphorisms and observations on all manner of things, both physical and abstract. Pretty good, and I remember reading a few of the best ones aloud to people in earshot, but they’ve all disappeared now. There was something funny about sunspots…
Another Day in the Death of America: A Chronicle of Ten Short Lives, Gary Younge (Aug. 3-8)
Younge picks a 24-hour period and tells the stories of 10 American children (aged nine to 19) who died by gun violence in that time. It’s a really expert example of journalism. Younge renders the victims, the killers, the survivors and the deaths themselves vividly without ever become maudlin or trashy. Nor is he heavy-handed. This isn’t a gun control advocacy tract (though it works very well as that); it’s just a description of ten deaths that would otherwise have not been known to the wider public, and an invitation to think about how you feel to be living in a society where this happens every day.
The Groves of Academe, Mary McCarthy (Aug. 8-13)
After my success with McCarthy in 2019, we slid right back into the mud on this one. It’s a satire about universities, with one professor out for revenge after his teaching assignment is rescinded. I usually flip for novels like this, or at least I used to, but this one never grabbed me. And yet, I still keep checking the “McC” shelf at the library…
Why Time Flies: A Mostly Scientific Investigation, Alan Burdick (Aug. 13-17)
Pop science about time and how we perceive it. Pretty good, and has some fun little facts to deploy in party conversations (“Want to know what happens when a person lives in a cave for two months without sunlight or clocks to tell time?”), but at length it wasn’t as interesting as the excerpts in the New Yorker review that made me want to check it out in the first place.
Who the Hell’s in It: Portraits and Conversations, Peter Bogdanovich (Aug. 17-27)
A good collection of profiles and critical appraisals of actors and directors. Bogdonavich doesn’t bring out the knives. He seems to like everyone, or at least have a fondness for everyone he talks to or about. He even likes Jerry Lewis, which is hard to understand, based on the person that Lewis reveals himself to be in their long interview: vain, angry, and constantly bestowing his “generosity” on those less talented than him. I’m not sure it could have been more damning if it had been writing by a person who hated Jerry Lewis.
Moby-Dick, Herman Melville (Sep. 4-16)
This one works. It lives up to the hype. Much livelier and more readable than you would believe. It’s diverse in its approach, taking the whale narratively, biologically, symbolically, historically…any way you want to look at a whale, it’s here. And each chapter is so short that even if you come upon a dull one, you can just gloss through it and quickly be on to something new. Captain Ahab deserves his reputation as an eternal character. My favorite scene is the one where the ship encounters another captain injured by Moby Dick, and Ahab becomes infuriated that this other man has managed to laugh about it and move on with his life.
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Quick Service, P.G. Wodehouse (Sep. 27-30)
Everything Wodehouse writes is brilliant to some degree and forgettable to some degree – forgettable because all of his stories are so similar as to run together in your memory. (This is not a strike against him; the familiarity is what gives him space to run wild with set pieces and verbal invention.) This novel has a higher than average degree of forgettability, owing to less than average characters and scenarios. Still, reading anything by Wodehouse will only make you healthier.
The Loneliness of the Long-Distance Cartoonist, Adrian Tomine (Sep. 30 – Oct. 2)
Simple vignettes of incidents in Tomine’s life that shaped him as a cartoonist. By a freak chance, these are totally congruent with extremely humiliating moments in his life. The only complaint I have is that it was too short.
Cosmicomics, Italo Calvino (Oct. 1-5)
If Into the War was an un-Calvino-like book, this one is Calvino-ish to a fault (if it’s possible to find fault in him). These 12 stories are about outer space and ancient life: the last dinosaur, the first creatures to walk on land, a time when the moon was close enough to the earth that people could hop between them. I was about to say that this was maybe shaky ground on which to build, that Calvino is better when he begins in our familiar Earth and then gets fanciful…but even writing that list of topics made me smile. And then there’s the best story, where the narrator, searching the skies, sees a galaxy with a sign reading, “I saw you,” and realizes that he was spotted, one hundred million years before, doing something embarrassing! Forget what I started to say. This book is great.
Picturing Will, Ann Beattie (Oct. 7-12)
Will is a little kid, surrounded by struggling adults. There’s not much of a plot, just images from the life of a small family. Like everything Beattie writes, the story is fragile and slow and devastating, and she fills her characters with a lot of psychological depth. I have to dock it points, however, for the introduction and mishandling of a particular plot point that I won’t spoil. I’m not sure you can casually bring something so fraught on board without it capsizing the whole book.
’Tis, Frank McCourt (Oct. 14-21)
The sequel to Angela’s Ashes, following McCourt as he tries to make it as a young man in America. Even away from horrible Irish poverty, his life is still pretty bleak. McCourt takes a lot of abuse from all sorts of people, and even once he’s settled down with a teaching career and a family, the hits keep coming. And that’s not to mention the horrendous health problems (endless eye infections!) that plague him for the first few years. But, “stories only happen to those who are able to tell them,” and McCourt relays everything with a lot of humor and sincerity and poetry.
Nineteen Stories, Graham Greene (Oct. 22-31)
The short story isn’t his medium. All 19 of them are fine, but only two are memorable: The End of the Party” about a child’s game of hide-and-seek that ends tragically, and “The Basement Room,” about a young boy disappointing and being disappointed by his hero. Interesting that an author famous for writing about grown-up matters like politics, espionage and war should write so well and so evocatively about the experiences of children. (Wait, no, that isn’t interesting.)
Hate Inc., Matt Taibbi (Oct. 31 – Nov. 7)
In his introduction to this book about the deterioration of the media, Matt Taibbi offers himself as an example of how nastiness has been incentivized, recounting that he once won the National Magazine Award for an article referring to Mike Huckabee as a “nut job” who resembled an “oversized Muppet.” I don’t think he needs to apologize for that (and amusingly, later in this book, he reflexively lets fly some even more juvenile insults without realizing he’s fallen back on his old tricks), but it’s a fair starting point for his dissection. Nothing in this book is a surprise – yes, the political media, particularly cable news, profits from keeping its audience in a state of constant agitation – but the examples he marshals are good, and his style is clean and straightforward.
Roads, Larry McMurtry (Nov. 24-27)
McMurtry’s memoir of driving across the country. It’s unusually decentered for a journey immortalized in a book: he’s not driving for more than a few days per month, he’s not taking scenic routes (he sticks to the biggest interstates), he’s skipping big portions of the highways he does take, and he doesn’t spend too much time talking about his destinations. He calls the book Roads, and he means it. But he makes it work. His thoughts and observations, whether of the landscape surrounding him or merely inspired by it, are aimless, but smart and confident. Though my attitude towards cars is less fond than his (it’s been rudely called “ecoterroristic”), McMurtry evokes a convincingly romantic view of American driving.
Misery, Stephen King (Nov. 27 - Dec. 2)
Highly acclaimed and deservedly so. The claustrophobic set-up never gets old. The violence, though shocking and extreme, never become tasteless or silly, as in a few of King’s stories I could mention. And the villain, Annie Wilkes, steals the show. It’s quite scary to have the dawning realization that she’s sane enough to successfully pull off her hideous plan, but too crazy to be reasoned with, or even predictably strategized against. It’s perhaps an unrealistic balance, but in Misery, I believed it unreservedly.
                                                     ***
There are two ways to look at it. It was a successful year: I only read one out-and-out stinker. At the same time, it’s a highly conservative list. Not to put down any of these authors individually, but I feel a little embarrassed by the cumulative effect of all of these familiar names. I can stick most of the blame on having been unable to wander the library and browse, but it could also be an incipient impatience. I’m getting older. Maybe I just don’t feel like taking my chances with some new author.
Or maybe this is just one of those bad habits that we get to leave behind in 2020, chalking it up to the pressures of facing that endlessly rising tide of shit, rather than any personal failings. That’s the fun (or the “fun”) of having survived a pandemic. You get to look back at your life and figure out, “Was that me? Or was it the virus?”
¹Heads or Tails, Lilli Carré; Old Souls, Brian McDonald & Les McClaine; Alex, Mark Kalesniko; The Hard Tomorrow, Eleanor Davis; Cannonball, Kelsey Wroten; and The Collected Stories of Mavis Gallant
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conyislnd · 1 year
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*   out of character.   »  taylor swift ruined my life
*   character tag.   »   lydia deetz
*   character tag.   »   nell crain
*   character tag.   »   cat montenegro-hodgins
*   character tag.   »   sidney prescott
*   character tag.   »   barbie
*   character tag.   »   joyce byers
*   character tag.   »   lottie matthews
*   character tag.   »   love quinn
*   character tag.   »   veronica mars
*   character tag.   »   sarah cameron
*   character tag.   »   jackie taylor
*   interactions.   »   maxine minx
*   interactions.   »   sidney prescott
*   interactions.   »   joyce byers
*   interactions.   »   lottie matthews
*   interactions.   »   barbie
*   interactions.   »   love quinn
*   interactions.   »   veronica mars
*   interactions.   »   sarah cameron
*   interactions.   »   jackie taylor
*   interactions.   »   cat montenegro-hodgins
*   always open.   »   prompts
*   self promo.   »   the hermit
*   favorites.   »   the stars
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wardenparker · 5 days
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Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 8
Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst
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After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.
Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 11k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story* Teasing, flirting, nudity, bathing together, fingering, a smattering of dirty talk. Summary: This wedding night is special for more than just the happy couple. Notes: A little light smut for your Sunday! Thanks for sticking with us this long, but these two are finally starting to get to know each other. 🧡 As always, please remember that the gif choice at the top of the chapter is not meant to represent reader's physical appearance. In this case, it's for Cameron and Wiley!
Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7
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Not even the nonstop amount of work you’ve been doing for the wedding can stop how much you’ve been thinking about Marcus since he left early on Thursday morning, and obviously Sydney isn’t going easy on you. The merciless, good hearted, happy-for-you teasing started the second you and Marcus came downstairs together the morning after the rehearsal dinner and has kept going through the texting and when you appeared for the actual wedding looking like you had paid a great deal of extra attention to your appearance for tonight. Not even to take away from the bride of course, but enough to look special for the occasion.
It had been so hard to not go back to your apartment after leaving the office yesterday. He had wanted to. So badly. To pick up the conversation and possibly do more than that kiss on the cheek he had thought about the entire time he was on the golf course and in the office. Now, getting ready for the wedding, he pays special attention getting ready so he can look his best for you.
The greenery that has been brought into the gardens, the subtle lighting accents, the clover-shaped place cards, and even the Kelly green silk shirt and matching heels that you picked out to wear with your most flattering suit are all festive for the St Patrick’s Day wedding. Each time you have checked on Joyce and her bridesmaids they have been jittery with excitement but doing well, and the florist was an astonishing ten minutes early to drop off the flowers, so everything is moving along perfectly.
By the time guests begin to arrive, the groom, ushers, groomsmen, and father of the bride are all in place. Considering the chaos this wedding was thrown into just two weeks ago? It might be the best organized night you’ve executed by yourself in years.
He has no problem not being in the wedding party anymore, however, Marcus escorts Joyce’s mother down the aisle to her seat with pride. The accents of his tuxedo had been the same color as the bridesmaids, but he had willingly given them up for her father, deciding on a classic grey accent to contrast for the vest, pocket square, and bow tie.
The only two things that save you from crying during the ceremony — which you always, always do — are how busy you are and how damn good Marcus looks. Through the ceremony and photos you catch glimpses and share smiles, but it takes until cocktail hour before you get a chance to sneak up in his side. “You know it’s bad manners to show up being more handsome than the groom.”
“Don’t think that I did that.” Marcus immediately warms from the inside out at just hearing your voice as he turns towards you. “And you look like you stepped out of a fashion shoot.” He compliments. “Upstaging the bride.”
“I would never.” Just hearing his voice in person instead of over the phone practically makes you giddy, but you demure. “Thank you, though. I will pass the compliment along to David, who is my fashion consultant.”
“Well, the linen suit is perfect with the vivid emerald green.” He smiles as he motions towards the reception. “It’s wonderful and they are beaming.” He smiles at the now family pictures being taken with Joyce’s parents and a large bouquet. While Michael’s parents hadn’t shown, they had sent a flower arrangement so it had made the couple hopeful that they would be accepting of things down the line.
“As long as they’re happy, that’s all that matters.” So far nothing has gone wrong, and you’re keeping your fingers crossed that it stays that way. Or at least, that when something finally does, it will be either small or insignificant enough that you can fix it without the couple even realizing.
“You have a gift.” Marcus praises softly. “Which do you prefer? Running the inn or planning? I’m assuming the day to day for the inn.”
“I do prefer the day to day of the inn,” you admit, looking around the garden filled with reception guests. “But I think I’ll be broken-hearted if I don’t get to help my siblings plan their weddings. I do like it.”
“I can see that.” He reaches out and slides a hand around your body, resting on where the tattoo sits in the small of your back. “You are wonderful and you’ve created a day they will never forget.”
“I won’t take an ounce of credit.” Looking up at him, though, you do smile. Just about as broadly as you can. “I will steal a dance from you later, though.”
“I think we can manage that.” He nods, smiling just as wide as you are. “Let me know when you are free.”
“I’ll come and find you when things are under control enough for me to slip away.” Not that you think it will take long, but there is always potential for things to happen. That’s why you have the radio in your ear, after all. A discreet Walkie talkie on your belt is hidden by your suit it makes you reachable by the whole staff working tonight. It gives you the luxury of stepping away to say hi to Marcus without worrying about a major disaster breaking out.
“Let me know if I can help.” He tells you, knowing that you would never ask, but he will offer anyway. “I can carry a case of champagne or something.”
“You’re a guest.” Never in a million years would you ask him to do any work when he’s attending an event in space you control, and you shake your head. “Relax. Enjoy. Eat and drink. Dance. I’ll come and find you later, handsome.”
He rolls his eyes and grins at you. “I knew that would be your answer, but my offer will stand.”
“Noted and appreciated.” You lean into his side for a brief hug before slipping away again, shooting a teasing wink his way from halfway across the garden as you go.
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The garden lights are on. White mixed with green to match the theme of the wedding party and Marcus has danced with the bride and her mother by the time you come back to his side. More than a few glasses of champagne in, and relaxed with his bow tie untied now.
“Having fun?” You may have snuck over to the deejay to ask him to play a slow song, but no one needs to know that you planned it.
“Enjoying myself, but now…” he turns and gives you a slow smirk. “It’s even better since you are here.”
“Oh yeah?” That has you beaming at him as the next song starts.
“Yeah.” He hears the slow, sweet strains of the song and lifts a brow. “Are you here long enough to dance before you flit away, hummingbird?”
“I’m all yours.” It sounds a bit more like a pledge than the playful thing it had sounded like in your head, but that’s okay. You still mean it. “For at least a song or two.”
Humming happily, he holds out his hand for you, watching you with almost tender affection. “We seem to be good at this.”
“Those lessons that our parents insisted on have paid off.” Those lessons don’t dictate how well you fit in his arms, though, or the way you feel drawn into him like a magnet.
“It’s like they knew.” He chuckles.
“We can never tell them,” you snicker, leaning into him a little more as the song goes on, and resting your head comfortably on his shoulder. “We’re still their children, after all. Can’t let them know we think they were ever right.”
“Never.” He had already received a call from his parents after the photos of the State dinner were published, only a case of mild humble bragging allowed before they changed the subject.
“You’ve never told me if you have siblings or anything.” The thought occurs to you almost belatedly, as the world is hazy around the two of you and you like it that way.
“Only child.” He chuckles. “Although I am possibly the only case of single child syndrome in my extended family.” He tells you. “I have twenty-seven first cousins.”
Your head nearly snaps back, wide eyes and a laugh of shock making your face look comically surprised. “I’m gonna need flash cards, aren’t I?”
He laughs, making several others look towards you, curious as to the amusement. “No.” He promises. “Most of the time, we all wear name tags.” He grins. “My family has six sets of identical twins in mix. They decided to make it a family traditional to tag us so no pranks were played.”
“Criminey.” Even on a low huff, you shake your head in wonder. All his poor aunts! “So an only child but plenty of playmates, then?”
“Always.” He laughs. “Always felt like I lived in a zoo when family was around.”
"You must have had hellacious games of Hide and Seek." The huff is replaced with a giggle, imagining little Marcus with all those cousins and all the chaos they must have gotten into. "It sounds amazing."
He agrees with you. “It was a competition to see how long we could last.” He tells you. “Had to stay on the property though.”
“Big family house?” You guess, figuring that his grandparents must have at least had a little bit of land. That’s the image you have in your head of Texas, anyway.
“Ended up having like a family compound.” Marcus admits with a chuckle. “For the summers together.”
"That sounds like so much fun." As the first song bleeds into a second, you don't move an inch from his arms. There's nowhere you would rather be than right here. "My parents are both only children, so I have absolutely zero first cousins. That's how we all ended up with best friends that basically got adopted into the family."
“There’s nothing wrong with that.” Marcus smiles at the image of your family adopting friends over the years, collecting them.
"Don't get me wrong, it's great." It's how you have kept Sydney in your life, and her sister, and your other best friend from college. It's how Alex and David got so close so young, and how Junie and Kiley became so close. "It's just different, that's all."
“I know.” Marcus would never put down your experience. “You might be overwhelmed by my family and think we are all insane.”
"Or I might have a blast." You raise an eyebrow at him, wondering if he's really saying that he wants you to meet his family or just postulating that someday down the line it would happen. Probably the latter. "We'll find out when we're ready."
“I’m going home at the beginning of April.” He informs you, wondering if it’s too fast. “You could always come with me.”
From intrigued to bewildered at the drop of a hat, your face morphs into something soft and your head tilts in a gentle awe. "And I thought I was always the one running headlong into relationships with my heart out there on my sleeve," you murmur, realizing that Marcus must be very much the same way. "I—I would absolutely love to."
You don’t have to come of course, but he thinks you really mean that you would want to. “No pressure, of course.” He adds. “We don’t have to be press official or anything. My family is tight-knit, they wouldn’t breathe a word.”
“There is already speculation,” you admit, though you have to shrug about it so it doesn’t upset you that people are speculating about your life at all. “We…didn’t do a great job of not looking enamored with each other at the State dinner.”
“I understand that.” Marcus has read the speculation and seen the photos. Both of you are photographed looking completely taken with the other. “However, when you decided to confirm is completely up to you.” He reminds you softly. “You owe no one anything before that. Not even as the First Princess.”
“It’s more important to me that you know I want to be with you. And that we tell our families when we’re ready. The nation can wait, it won’t kill them to not get gossip right away.” You bite your lip though, leaning into his side again as you dance. “My family is probably going to be very enthusiastic tomorrow.”
“You plan on telling them tomorrow?” He asks, slightly surprised that you would be so willing to say something so quickly. It’s not that he’s been viewed as undesirable, but often the women he dated were more cautious.
“The only thing that would stop me would be if you don’t want me to.” Otherwise, sharing this new step forward in your life with your family is just one more thing to celebrate.
“You’re my soulmate.” Marcus reminds you, smiling softly at the reminder himself. “I don’t mind telling a stranger on the street, let alone people you love.”
When Juan had told you what a romantic Marcus is, you had almost taken it with a grain of salt. A friend talking up his friend to the girl who likes him. But it hasn’t taken long at all for you to see the truth of it shining in Marcus’s eyes, or widening his smile. And a man who wants love is exactly what you have always hoped for. “I’m glad we agree,” you murmur, swallowing around the first time your heart has burst with those words. You’re not going to come out with that full-scale declaration before you’ve even gone out on your first few dates. Before you’ve even kissed.
He smiles even more, his fingers pressing into your hip and lower back, pulling you closer to his own body. It’s not possessive, more protective over you and the moment that is unfurling between you. “Just let me know if I come on too strong.” He asks, knowing that it could annoy some and he doesn’t want to do that to you.
“That’s…usually the warning I have to give.” The striking similarities between the two of you aren’t lost. The way your wishes and dreams and treatment of your partners all lines up…it makes sense why they always say that your soulmate is your ideal fit. Especially in this moment, as your arms tighten around each other and the world seems to stop around you.
He chuckles softly, leaning in and pressing his lips to the edge of your hair. “You will never have to worry about that with me.” He promises.
The way your heart stops completely for a moment at the bare touch of lips to skin before starting back up at double the speed is so telling, and so overwhelming that your fingers dig into his jacket to keep him close. “You don’t have to worry either.”
The moment is perfect and it’s one of those moments that a first kiss is almost required. Like it’s the Hallmark movie it feels like. Marcus stares into your eyes and his gaze flickers down to your lips for a moment before there’s a snort beside him.
“You two look like the newlyweds.” Joyce teases, a broad grin on her face as she leans into the arms of her new husband.
Thwarted for the second time in as many days, you swallow the disappointment but have to appreciate the irony of who’s pointing it out. “That’s your job, today, I think.”
“No way we would want to upstage the happy couple.” Marcus adds, sending them a smile.
“No reason it can’t be a happy day for more than just us,” she hums, grinning again when they turn away to keep dancing.
Marcus laughs quietly as he continues to dance with you. “I think they suspect something.” He teases softly.
“Like I said,” you laugh quietly, beaming at him impossibly brighter. “We’re not very good at hiding it.”
“No, we aren’t.” He agrees, deciding that now is the perfect time to dip you like he had during the State dinner.
The same joyful shout of laughter bubbles out of you that had then, drawing some attention again but this time you revel in it. Marcus’s soothing presence is there to let you enjoy yourself without fear, so that when you wrap your arms around his neck again on the upswing — this time there is no hesitation in following your natural impulse. Your lips find his like you’re coming home again, in a kiss as sweet and bright as the rest of this moment.
He expected the kiss, had anticipated kissing you so it’s a shock to have you initiating the kiss. Eyes widening for a split second before he closes his eyes and leans you down even more. The brilliancy of having him lean into the moment is wonderful, and you suddenly don’t know if your head is swimming from being dipped or from him. Not that you care. Not that any of it matters. Because the electric spark of it is so brilliant you could sing.
Marcus has kissed women, lots of them. Some of them women he had loved, but nothing compares to this kiss. He had always heard that soulmate intimacy is beyond description and that is exactly what this is, indescribable.
The buzzing seems to start at the top of your head and go all the way down to your toes, making you hum against his lips when you finally have to pull away. Can’t be making out in the dance floor. That will definitely be noticed. Marcus slowly pulls you upright, his lips tingling and his heart feeling like it is soaring through the clouds.
“I wanted to do that so badly at the State dinner,” you whisper, beaming at him and glowing in the moment. He knows that. You told him already. But you’re too lightheaded to care about repeating yourself.
“I did too.” Marcus confesses just as softly. It’s impossibly amazing to have someone that feels the same way and he absorbs it like it’s oxygen to breathe.
There’s a giggle in your throat, but it’s small and feels like a hiccup, making you grin even more. “But that was better than I imagined.”
“Same.” He looks around the dance floor, aware that you weren’t at a soulmate wedding before he leans in to whisper in your ear. “I had never thought touching my soulmate would be so exciting and soothing all at the same time.”
“No exciting touches while I’m working,” you chide, knowing it isn’t what he meant but unable to resist teasing him.
He snorts quietly and arches a brow mischievously. “And if I do?”
He is a tease, and he said as much to you with pride, so you just quirk a smile up in the corner of your mouth and stroke one thumb along the line of his neck. “Then you’re not staying on the couch this time.”
“Am I staying?” He asks softly, not wanting to presume anything and he grins at your huff.
“Only if you want to.” You have no intention of pressuring him, but if he wants to spend the night you will welcome him with open arms.
“I don’t think that’s a question in my mind.” He chuckles. “I just don’t want you to think that I only want to take you to bed.”
“If I thought that, you wouldn’t be invited.” Enough years of second guessing and wondering have made an impact on you that way, and you certainly aren’t going to entertain any kind of advances from someone who isn’t interested in you for the right reasons. Not anymore.
“That’s good.” He admires your spirit and self-assurance. They are traits that he always likes in a woman and he’s happy to find that his soulmate is aligned the same way. Reaching up, he smirks slightly as he touches an earring. “So what time do you get off work, beautiful?”
"As soon as the reception's over." Subtly turning your wrist on his shoulder, you check the time and press a kiss to his cheek when your heart flutters at the end of the song that had been playing. "Just a couple more hours, handsome. I hope you're one of those G-men who keeps a change of clothes in their car."
“I do.” He nods, butterflies swirling in his stomach like he’s untried all over again, even though his virginity is long past gone. “The other night was an odd thing because of just coming back.”
"I'll let my temporary roommate know you're coming up." That's not exactly the kind of thing you can spring on Agent Bailey, even if she is at the end of her shift. Her shift relief will need to know there's someone spending the night so they don't hear noises and burst into your room.
“If it’s not convenient, we can always plan something out.” Marcus immediately assures you. He knows that it has to be a little stifling at times with the agent there and he doesn’t want you to stress if there’s some reason he can’t stay.
"I just don't want an agent interrupting us," you assure him quickly. "That's all. I want you to stay."
Marcus grins. “Afraid of a shift change and the agent thinking you’re being attacked?” He jokes.
"Stranger things have happened." Unfortunately, the ear piece you're wearing to stay connected to your team crackles to life with the voices of servers get ready for the cake cutting. "That's my cue," you hum, tapping your earpiece with a slight frown. "Save me one more dance later, okay?"
“Absolutely.” Marcus lets go of you reluctantly, although he knows you are still working to make the night magical for his friends.
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The wedding is as close to perfect as any event that you've organized in possibly your entire career. By the time the last guests are trickling out of the garden and the wait staff is bringing in the last trays of glasses to be washed, your work is fairly well done for the night. The overnight manager can oversee the rest of the cleanup, and you've already sent Sydney home to her comfy bed after freaking out with her over the fact that Marcus has agreed to stay over tonight. Joyce and Michael left straight for the airport to be off on their honeymoon after many, many hugs. Agent Bailey looks positively relaxed compared to some other events you've held at the inn, but you can tell she's ready for a cup of coffee and a crossword to wind down with before her relief arrives.
"Hey." You find Marcus on the porch when you step back outside, and your face splits on a big, beautiful smile.
“Hey.” Marcus turns to find you watching him, your jacket discarded somewhere and you look softer, a little worn. “I have to just give you a round of applause.” He hums, clapping silently. “You made this look so easy, even though there are a million balls up in the air at one time.”
"I'm exhausted," you admit without shame. After two weeks of basically working nonstop, you would feel like you're about to drop except that you have the promise of the rest of the night ahead of you. "Thank god I took the whole weekend off. We can sleep in tomorrow."
Marcus frowns, not liking that you’ve overworked yourself and he is immediately pulling you close and rubbing your back. “Why don’t we go upstairs and you let me take care of you?”
“Because that will require an entire reprogramming of my personality?” The attempt at a joke just makes him raise his eyebrows at you and deepens his frown, and you know instinctively you’re going to give in to him. You may not be good at letting other people be in charge of you ever, but the warm and fuzzy feelings you get from being the sole focus of Marcus’s attention outweighs it. “Okayyyyyy.”
At the almost petulant tone, Marcus smirks slightly. “Good.” He nods and pulls you closer. “You deserve to let someone do for you.” He whispers softly. “You’ve done so much for my friends tonight. Let me return the favor.”
There isn’t any use protesting, and you like the gentle security of his arms too much to leave them right now, so the two of you make your way to the elevator wrapped around each other as though there is nowhere else you could possibly be. “Did you have fun tonight?” Aside from Joyce and Michael — who had thanked you profusely before leaving for the night — his opinion of things is the only one you care about.
“Probably the best wedding I’ve ever been to.” Marcus isn’t just saying that. The staff milled around, wearing happy expressions that weren’t painted on, even when they were busy. The entire event flowed smoothly and the atmosphere was one of celebrated joy. A lot of that comes straight from the top, how you treat your staff and the environment you’ve created. “I’ll say it again, you are amazing.”
“You may have noticed by now that I’m not very good at taking compliments.” You up at him, though, warm cheeks and broad smile making you look bashful. “But…thank you.”
“Well, I plan on giving them to you often.” He admits, admiring your beautiful face. He’s always believed in giving compliments, but he never says something he doesn’t mean.
“Then I will try to be better.” Having only kissed him once so far, the tantalizing closeness of where he hangs his head as you step into the elevator together beckons you, but you resist if only out of manners. Agent Bailey doesn’t need to be made to feel awkward in such a small space.
He can tell that you want to kiss him, but he can also see how incredibly worn out you are. Marcus shifts slightly, moving behind you so he can let you lean against him. The small, nondescript duffel bag in his hand brushes your leg, and you smile gently at the idea of waking up beside him tomorrow morning. As tantalizing as taking him to bed is, it’s the soft, domestic dream of waking up to see his sleep-mussed face that has you weak in the knees. When the elevator stops upstairs, you pause to let Agent Bailey work and then go in when she gives you the signal.
“Are the threats bad enough she needs to check the apartment every time?” He asks softly, frowning at the idea that you would be in so much danger.
“Mom is slightly overprotective,” you explain, dropping your jacket on the coat rack by the door when you come in. “I give it another month of all-clears before she stops insisting the apartment be checked every single time.”
“She loves you.” It’s not hard to see why but he also doesn’t want to minimize its effect on you.
“Oh, I know.” Turning around again, you reach for him even though he isn’t far away. “And I love her. Which is why I’ve never fussed at her for anything reasonable she’s ever asked of me. Including letting my agent check my apartment before I go inside. If it eases her anxiety to know I’m safe, that’s fine. She’s got plenty else to deal with right now.”
“It’s probably because you live alone.” He murmurs, sliding his arms around you. “When I first moved away, my Mom called every night to make sure I locked my door. And I was not nearly as pretty as you are.”
“I don’t believe that for a second.” His chin weighs on your shoulder and you cover his arms with your own, wrapping them around your own waist. “You’re much prettier than me. But you’re right that it’s about me living alone. When I lived with Syd she never worried out loud. But she also wasn’t president then.”
“Maybe we will have to get you a roommate.” Marcus isn’t pushing for anything, only teasing out loud. “And a really protective dog.”
“If you want a review of how I am to live with, Syd will tell you everything, I’m sure.” Though neither of you believes in pushing the other, it’s obvious that a fully functioning and committed relationship is on both of your minds. “And you know I’m dying to have a dog, we talked about that. I just can’t do it here. There’s nowhere near enough space.”
“There is if you build a cottage behind the inn.” Marcus suggests. “Gives you space for the family and keeps you close enough to your work to still pop in whenever you need.”
For a second you just stand stock still, shocked at the idea, before you slowly turn in his arms and look up into that sharply angled face with the gentlest eyes in the whole world. “I had never thought of that,” you admit, astonished now at your own lack of imagination.
“Maybe now you will.” He smiles, happy to have offered a suggestion that might be of use to you. “It’s a perfect compromise, and then you could turn your apartment into another suite for guests.”
“It’s a perfect compromise as long as it’s something my partner also likes the sound of.” Thinking of him as a partner — a long term one, the long-term partner of your life — sends that tingle out to all your extremities all over again and you find yourself smiling even brighter. “I guess we’ll have to think about what kind of cottage we would want, if that’s something we decide to do together.”
“Stone.” Marcus immediately says. “Designed to fit in. Perhaps an old carriage house design.”
The way he offers such unfettered support softens you, and you reach up to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “Have you thought about it before, or are you just brilliant with improvising ideas?”
“Haven’t thought about it before but I hate when I see a historic building and some addition that’s completely modern or doesn’t match the style.” He admits with a sheepish grin.
“Then I’ll just call you brilliant and you’ll have to live with being positively adored.” He blushes at that declaration, and you end up smiling all over again. “And it’s very Sabrina of you to think of living in a carriage house. Which makes it thematic, of course, and now we have to.”
“Now we have to, huh?” He chuckles quietly and leans in to press a kiss to your hair. “Then I guess we better start designing a carriage house worth of the First Princess.”
“I don’t care.” Even though you’re shaking your head, you’re transfixed, looking up into his eyes. It’s too soon for these things you’re feeling — too quick and too untried — but they’re so honest that they catch in your throat and bubble over. “As long as you’re there, too, I don’t care about anything else.”
It’s a loaded comment and it’s one that would have him searching your eyes to see if you are being truthful but he doesn’t have to. He feels that you are. “We will decide when the time comes.” He promises. “Where we live.”
“I’m just grateful you don’t think I’m crazy,” you admit softly. “For feeling so certain already.”
He snorts and pulls you close. “When I realized that you knew we had to be soulmates, there was another reaction that I needed space from you because of.” He admits. “Do you know what that was?”
“Not a clue.” Whatever it was, he’s here with you now, so you aren’t afraid of it. “Tell me.”
“So I didn’t beg you to run away with me and get married.” He flushes slightly and bites his lip.
“Oh god…” The breath of disbelief that leaves you is as disbelieving as it is giddy. “I would’ve said yes and we would’ve been doing text message breakups from the car on our way to the nearest soulmate chapel.”
“And we are better than that.” Marcus agrees, “so it was a good thing that I left for London.”
“Long distance so that we were forced to not be impulsive.” In a very real way, he’s right. You would both have jumped headfirst into this and being on separate continents forced you to calm down. You do smirk, though, and hold him a little closer. “It didn’t stop us from bathing together, though.”
Your smirk is tantalizingly wicked and innocent, making him return it. “I was trying very hard to be good while we were on the phone together. To not think about you naked.”
"I admit," you aren't embarrassed or shy about it, though. "I was decidedly less well behaved..."
“Oh yeah?” He arches a brow curiously. “What— were you touching yourself while we were talking?”
"After." It's not something you expected to admit tonight, but you have no intention of keeping the truth from Marcus at all. "I...wasn't confident I could keep quiet if I actually did it during one of our conversations."
“So you are vocal.” He hums softly, starting to get an idea of what might be a perfect ending to the night for you.
"Maybe a little." It's definitely something you have to control to be considerate of the other person in your apartment at all times.
“That’s good.” He’s aware that Agent Bailey has disappeared around the corner, trying to give you the illusion of privacy. “I like vocal.”
Instantly, your eyes snap up to his. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He hums, pressing a little closer to you with a weighted smile. “Why don’t we run a bath? Soaking sounds like a good idea for you, doesn’t it?”
“Thank god my tub is big enough for two people,” you huff, immediately grabbing his hand and heading straight for your bathroom.
He hadn’t actually meant for him to soak, but it’s obvious that’s what you want. Allowing you to guide him into your bathroom, he looks around the room. He hadn’t really paid attention to the tub when he had spent the night or when he was here for the game night, so it was a charming surprise to see that the tub is big enough for two.
"Are you a bubbles or salts guy?" You have a whole shelf dedicated to bath things that you've actually started working through thanks to the frequent phone calls you shared while he was away. Before that, you barely made time to touch them.
“Either one.” He shrugs slightly. “Depends on the mood, but I’m thinking bubbles tonight. What about you?”
"Sweet Surrender or Heart of the Ocean?" The two yet-untouched bottles on the shelf have abstract names but smelled amazing in the store when you bought them, so you give him the choice. Either way, the light and airy scented candles in the room will add ambiance more than anything else.
“Sweet Surrender.” He likes the sound of it and shrugs off his tuxedo jacket to drape over the counter.
“Honey, almonds, and pomegranate,” you read from the bottle as you turn to plug up the tub and start the bath. These first moments of intimacy are so delicate, and even though you have both verbally confirmed your shared marks — this will be the first time you see them on each other.
“That sounds like the perfect scent to relax in.” He doesn’t glance up at you, slowly starting to undress in case you change your mind.
“Hey.” As soft as your voice is, your hand reaches out to touch his arm. He isn’t looking at you and you just want to be sure that he doesn’t feel pressured. “If you want to wait, we can wait as long as you need.”
“No.” He laughs at the irony of you voice his own thoughts. “But I also know you are tired. Why don’t we soak without any expectations?”
“No expectations is good.” You nod, appreciating the way he already looks like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. “There are a lot of different kinds of intimacy.”
“My idea was to get you into a bath, maybe make you feel good, and wrap you up in my arms to sleep.” Marcus voices softly.
“Is that what you want to do?” He’s only undone two buttons on his shirt, and you rest one hand lightly on his chest to ground yourself in him and give him your full attention. You said it earlier in the night — you are both just out of relationships. If he wants to take things between you physically slow even if they are moving at emotional light speed, you’ll honor that and make sure he feels comfortable and safe.
“The romantic in me wants to wait for your birthday tomorrow night.” He admits, huffing at himself. “For sex. Not for making you cum.”
“Honey.” Your hand goes to your mouth instantly, stifling a witheringly heartfelt sigh, and you step into him immediately with a sort of lopsided smile settling into your features that tells him exactly how sweet you find that idea. “That is…quite possibly the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. And I adore you for wanting to make it special.”
“You don’t think it’s silly?” He’s been told he tries too hard or overthinks in relationships a lot and it’s something he’s worked on.
“No.” Shaking your head just once, you run your thumb over one of the buttons of his shirt and nearly sigh again. “I think it’s romantic. And it tells me you’re a thoughtful partner.”
“What do you want?” That is equally as important in this scenario as his own wistful flights of romantic fancy.
“I want to wake up with you tomorrow.” It might sound odd or even a little creepy to anyone else, but you’re confident that Marcus will understand. It’s not possessive or obsessive, it’s domestic and romantic in its own right. “Find out what you look like sleep mussed and bathed in sunlight all tangled in my sheets. Anything else that happens is a bonus.”
“Then let me take care of you tonight?” He asks softly, leaning in and kissing your forehead. “I can wait, and I want to make your weekend special.”
It’s impossibly romantic and probably the first time in your entire life that the man you’re romantically involved with isn’t clamoring to fuck you as quickly as humanly possible. Instead of making you feel less desirable, like it might have at earlier points in your life, it makes you feel special. Cared for. Like the fact that you have his focus means more than anything else ever could. “Okay,” you murmur, nodding once before you turn to shut off the hot water filling your bathtub. “If you prefer, there’s a little stool next to the sink. “You don’t have to get in with me unless you want to.”
“I don’t mind getting into the bath with you.” The idea of pressing his body against yours is incredibly erotic and sensual. “You can lean against me.”
“Okay.” Even as simple as a word is, the acknowledgement is important. Right now it’s just as important as the mounting hum of tension between you, and His your fingers prickly with the desire to continue undressing him. How you’re dying to press your bare skin to his, even if it doesn’t come with sex just yet.
He wonders if you are disappointed, if you are wanting him to just jump you and take you to bed. He wants to, but he wants to celebrate what is between you more.
"There's only..." Your hands go to your own buttons. Undressing yourself is not pressuring him, but just offering. Offering to deepen this connection and share this part of yourself. "Only one thing I want to ask...that's all. If it's okay with you?"
“Anything you want, sweetheart.” He’s willing to whatever you want to make you happy. “What do you need to ask of me?”
It seems silly, all things considered, but when you bite your lip it feels like asking permission to smile. "I just want to see the marks we share. On both of us."
Marcus chuckles and nods, finishing the buttons on his shirt and he slips it off his shoulders. “The most obvious one first, I think.”
"I hope you don't hate it." His shirt lands on the stool you had offered him, and yours follows it.
“I don’t.” He promises, smiling at you. “Your explanation makes complete sense, now that I know that it’s you.” He tells you. “A Hummingbird for my little hummingbird.”
"And you know why I was never on Mate Marks now." It was something he had pointed out at the State dinner and you had felt awfully about the way he took it. Thinking that you never wanted to be found, when in fact it's the opposite that is true. It's just that it was considered unsafe for you. Now, though? Now that you have him right in front of you? You can turn around and show him your back and let him see the hummingbird for himself.
Your bra is still on, but he doesn’t mind that, watching as you slowly turn to let him see the tattoo on your lower back. The hummingbird that has marked his own skin, the exact same one. “Does it look different on someone else?” You ask, suddenly afraid to see his reaction.
Reaching out, his fingers brush over the skin, feeling the slight rise in it where the ink has been pushed underneath. His own is flat, not raised and it’s a wonderful little contrast between your tattoo and its counterpart on his own body. “It looks beautiful.” He murmurs softly.
"If I had been older than eighteen, I might have had it put somewhere else," you admit with a wry laugh. "But I don't care as long as it helped us find each other."
“It’s discreet.” He snorts, still tracing it. “If you want it to be.”
"I tend to tuck my shirts into my pants these days." His fingers are burning hot but not in an unpleasant way. More like the tension and promise of them is scorching your skin with eagerness. "Or just wear a longer top layer. No bikinis, ya know?"
“That’s why there aren’t pictures of it out there.” He huffs slightly, amused that if you had been photographed it would have been splashed in some kind expose or something.
"It doesn't matter anymore." Before, discretion had been something that was agreed upon. You didn't want someone claiming to be your soulmate falsely and your parents considered it a safety concern. But now that you have Marcus? Any claim would be an obvious lie and easily taken care of. "You're what matters."
Marcus turns so you can see the tattoo on his skin, verifying the same design to you. “You matter too, sweetheart.”
You never thought it would be such an emotional moment, but it’s only in the last few days that you realize how silly that assumption was. Of course this is emotional. This connection goes far, far beyond any that you’ve made otherwise. It is, just like the ink marking both of your bodies, under your skin. The tears are more than you were expecting, and you wipe one away on your thumb after a pause. “Holy shit,” you laugh after a second. “It’s real…”
He lights up at the giddy excitement in your voice. The yearning has him turning around and wiping away another with his own thumb as he caresses your cheek. “It’s real, sweetheart. We’re real.”
When he turns to you fully you can see the scar from your childhood surgery on his torso, the line of healed flesh where the doctor cut into you as clear as day on his otherwise smooth skin. “I’m sorry,” you murmur quietly, tracing it with your fingers. “We were so young to have to carry this and know what it means…that we were always connected…”
“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Marcus shakes his head, frowning at your apology. “I was worried about you.” He admits softly. “If I had known you, I would have been visiting you in the hospital.”
"I told you." A thin smile brightens your face, reminding him of what you said at the State dinner. "Appendicitis sucks."
“I will take your word for it.” He chuckles quietly and his fingers brush your scar. “Were you scared when it happened?”
"Terrified." You nod slightly, eyes transfixed on his fingers touching your skin. "I was six and I had never, ever felt that kind of pain before."
“Poor thing.” Kneeling down, he leans in and presses his lips to the scar.
You swallow hard as he reaches for the button on your pants, skin singing at every little bit of contact. It’s only a second before he pulls the zipper open that you frankly try to remember what panties you put on for today, but it doesn’t matter. Every stitch of clothing will be gone soon, and you’re okay with that. Losing the last barriers between the two of you is exactly what you want for this weekend.
He continues to kiss along the length of the scar, watching you looking down at him as he slowly opens your trousers. Finding it incredibly sexy that you are already breathless.
“Just had a mini panic,” you admit, raking your fingers through his short hair. “Can’t remember if I put on presentable panties today or not.”
He can’t help but laugh at the very normal fear. “I don’t care about what kind of panties you wear.” He promises with grin. “But I did wear my good boxer briefs.” He jokes. “Keep it all contained properly.”
“Can’t have you letting it all hang out.” When you laugh along with him, it comes out like a snort. “Very undignified.”
“Very.” He joins you in the laughing, his fingers running along the edge of your panties. “No erections allowed in wedding photos.”
“Fully permitted later in the night, though.” He’s still on his knees in front of you, and despite being nervous you reach behind yourself to unhook your bra. “In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s encouraged.”
“Well, of course it is now.” He huffs playfully, hooking his fingers into the band of your panties. The last scraps of fabric fall away, leaving you naked in front of him, and you shiver slightly without knowing if it’s the chilly bathroom or nerves that are doing it. Marcus debates, seriously debates, if he should just lean forward and bury his face into the pretty, neat little patch of hair. To use his tongue on you. When you shiver, he knows he needs to get you into the bath, so he stands quickly and unbuckles his belt.
You aren’t a virgin. You never claimed to be. At one-day-under-30, you’ve had your fair share of sexual and romantic partners, and not everyone in those two categories overlapped. Still, when Marcus pushes his boxer briefs and trousers away in one go, you inhale sharply at the first glimpse of his half-hard cock. If you hadn’t promised to let him take care of you, you might be reaching forward or dropping to your own knees — but you did. You promised. And you can barely hold back a smothered groan of regret at that fact because he’s stunning.
If it weren’t for the lusty, glazed look on your face, he might have thought something was wrong. As it is, his half hard cock twitches and hardens even more as he guides you towards the tub. “Get in, sweetheart.” He urges. “I’ll get us some towels.”
“The cupboard behind you.” They’re big, fluffy, soft things that you count as an indulgence, but they won’t be anywhere near as comfortable as having him in this bath with you. Still, you step into the hot, sudsy water without him, knowing he’ll follow in a minute.
Marcus grabs the towels and sets them close before striding back over to the tub. He’s not some Greek god, but he’s in good enough shape that there’s no reason to slump or hide as he walks towards you naked.
“Fuck.” Just one word groaned softly, but your eyes stay on him with every step. “You’re gorgeous.”
“Are you stealing my lines?” He teases, flashing you a grin as you sit in the sudsy water. “Because the only gorgeous thing I see is you.”
“We can both be gorgeous to each other,” you point out, still transfixed by him.
He had never really thought of it that way and shrugs slightly. “If you say so.” He bites his lip and watches you lean forward to give him room behind you.
The water is just a tiny bit high with both of you settled into the tub, but you don’t care. It’s not in danger of flooding the floors so you’ll just revel in being warm and comfortable with your soulmate for as long as the hot water holds out. You lean back against him, making him sigh softly in your ear and his arms come around you.
“Is this okay, hummingbird?” He murmurs quietly. “Can I touch you?”
“You know you can call me Birdie.” Settling back against him, you guide his hand around you and under the water to let him start exploring. “Hummingbird is my Secret Service call sign. Don’t wanna start accidentally moaning as a Pavlovian response whenever Agent Bailey says it.”
He chuckles quietly, a warm sound in your ear as he splays his hand over your stomach. “If you want me to.” He slowly starts to stroke your skin. “Hummingbird sounds a little more intimate, I thought.”
“Whatever you want, gorgeous.” The way he laughs and the way he touches you? You’d probably agree to anything right about now.
“Is that how I get my way?” He asks teasingly. “Get in a hot bath with you and I get what I want?” His hands, both of them, slide up to fill his hands with your tits and squeezes gently, enjoying the way your nipples harden against his palm.
“Apparently.” Sighing lets your body loosen even more in his arms and you rest heavily against his torso but your back arches to press your chest into his hands. “And ya know what? I’m okay with it.”
He laughs again, squeezes and then massaging the flesh before his thumbs brush over your nipples. “That’s right?” He asks. “You enjoying this? Feeling relaxed already?” Flicking your nipples again lightly before he cups your tits again.
“Mmmmm, it’s perfect,” you hum, letting your eyes slip shut to just enjoy the sensations.
“Good.” He’s slow to explore, letting the moment expand naturally and taking his time as he listens to your soft moans. Wanting to learn what makes you hum and purr like a kitten in his hands.
“Are you going to make a Goldilocks joke if I point out what big hands you have?” You ask, humming again when his large hand spans what feels like your entire thigh.
“The better to feel you with, my dear.” He growls into your ear playfully, squeezing your thigh slightly and massaging it gently.
The giggle you let out is low and deep, but cut off sharply by a gasp when his fingers ghost over your core. He hums, more of a raspy growl as he slides his fingers through the wet curls and into your folds. Groaning at the slickness that has nothing to do with the bath you are in.
“Fuck.” One syllable, repeated as many times as you want to tonight, and you drop your head back on his shoulder with a moan. “Feels so good and you’ve barely touched me.”
“That’s it, beautiful.” He coos softly. “Just relax, I’m gonna take care of you.” The water ripples as he slowly starts to caress your folds, rubbing and stroking the velvety skin as he listens to you moan again.
Pliant is an understatement as Marcus starts to explore, gauging your reactions and keeping his other hand busy with your tits now that he’s figured out how much you love having them played with. The itch in the back of your mind that you’re neglecting him is very real, but this is what he wants tonight and what he’s ready to share with you, so you’ll just make tomorrow twice as good for both of you when you can share the sensations.
He keeps the motion of his fingers slow, sensual as they dance over your sensitive clit. “Does that feel good, sweetheart?”
“So good—” So good that your breath is coming short, shallow pants already and only occasionally punctuated by longer and deeper ones. It’s like he can read you as easily as a book. “So fucking good.”
He hums softly, keeping the pace up and his cock is throbbing against your lower back now that he is fully hard. He ignores it and squeezes your breast again before teasing the nipple. “That’s good, baby girl.”
Your hips tilt, searching for more pressure and trying to show him where to focus his attention, but Marcus is exploring. He’s learning. And as much as you love it, it’s making you twist and pant and rub against him in ways you’re sure are not helping the hard on pressed between you.
“Ohhhh my soulmate gets eager, hmmm?” He coos, chuckling at the way you are grinding against him. “What do you need sweetheart?”
"More." You aren't above begging and he's already professed to being a tease so you just bask in it when his husky voice is right by your ear. He doesn't mind that you're eager and you don't mind that he's a tease, which means there's going to be a whole lot of fun ahead of the two of you. "Please, baby? More?"
“I’ve got you.” He knows there is a fine balance between being a tease and tormenting someone. He turns his hand, his thumb pressing against your aching clit so he can push two fingers deep inside you. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”
"Oh fuck." The whine that comes out of you is something unrestrained and probably louder than you meant it to be, but it hardly matters when he's stretching you out on two thick fingers. Your hands scramble for purchase, one clutching his arm against you and the other holding on to the side of the tub as he begins to finger fuck you slowly but determinedly.
“Gotta stretch you out.” He croons in your ear, his breath washing over your skin. “Get your tight little pussy ready for me tomorrow.” He curls his fingers up and continues the slow circles on your clit.
"Knew those fingers would feel amazing inside me." And after thinking about it for about two weeks solid, you're thrilled to find out exactly how right you were.
“Been thinking about that a lot?” He asks, deciding your ear lobe needs to be nibbled on.
"So fucking much." Every time his fingers dive back inside your cunt you give another wanton moan. "Almost as much as I've been thinking about your cock."
“Now that you’ve seen it, what do you think?” He’s curious because he knows you wouldn’t lie to him, he knows enough women have enjoyed him to not be too self-conscious, but you are his soulmate. Hopefully you will be pleased with the body the universe chose for you to share.
“I think I my imagination didn’t do you justice.” If it weren’t for his fingers moving inside you, you’d be riding that cock, but you can’t find it in yourself to be disappointed when he’s so fucking good with his hands. Instead you twist around, chest having as you claim a demanding kiss.
He groans into your mouth, cock twitching against your back as your tongue slides into his mouth. You taking control of kiss is incredibly sexy to him, and he pumps his fingers into you faster.
If you were flexible enough to reach in between your bodies and wrap your hand around his hard on, you would have done it ages ago. The angle you’ve twisted into to kiss him almost makes it work, but still not quite. It leaves you whining into the kiss as your legs quake, feeling yourself move closer and closer to that peak that he has aimed you toward.
It’s not as slow as Marcus had wanted. Expecting to coax you into a languid, drawn-out orgasm that leaves you boneless, you are insistent. Not that he could deny you, the entire point is to take care of you how you need it. Kissing you back with just as much fervor as you give him as he pushes you towards that pleasurable cliff.
It probably would have been more like the slow, sensual climb he had intended if you weren’t so hungry for him. So addicted to the way he tastes after barely the smallest sample that you just want to drown in him. It’s passion, and the kind of attraction that makes you feel like you’ll go crazy if you can’t have him burrowing under your skin. In the moment your hazy, pleasure-centric mind is wrapped solely around how he helps and tastes better than perfection, and how you never want it to end.
The kiss tangles deeper, winding through to his soul and squeezing it tights. Grunting into your mouth gently as he feels like he is home.
The whine in your throat gets tighter as you near that peak, glorious tension in the pit of your stomach flooding every other sense you have as you start to cum, except the unerring surety that this is exactly where you’re supposed to be. Right here. With your soulmate. Home.
The way you fall apart for him is breathtaking. Marcus moans in tune to your own cries, eyes closed as your walls tighten around his fingers and pulse with a throbbing tempo of pleasure. The water sloshing around you both as you shake for him.
The words stick in your throat, and whether it’s the soulmate connection or the post-orgasm bliss, or what, they hang there as you relax backward against him in a slump. Is it really that easy? Or has it been building since we met? You aren’t sure, but it’s there. Regardless of how or why.
He feels the second you soften, body relaxing against him and his fingers slow down. Drawing out the pleasure but not forcing any kind of overstimulation. Winding down until they are still inside you as he kisses you softly before pulling back to smile at your glowing face.
“You have very good ideas.” A soft laugh tumbles out of you as you work to suppress the instinct to declare yourself to him. This isn’t the right time. Or, at least, you’re afraid that it’s too soon despite the dreams you’ve already shared with him.
“Good.” He hums softly, kissing you again. “Relaxed, sweetheart?”
“Amazingly.” You can still feel him rock hard at your back, though, and your eyes search his. “Are you sure you don’t want a hand? Or any other part of me?”
He snickers the innuendo and leans in to kiss you again. “You don’t know how badly I want you.” He murmurs softly. “But your eyes are exhausted.”
“I hate that you’re right.” Wanting him so badly that it physically hurts doesn’t make you less tired, but it does make you more determined than ever to make sure tomorrow is incredible.
He chuckles softly and kisses your forehead. "You now know how I felt a couple of days ago." He reminds you softly. "It doesn't matter how long it takes, love." He promises. "We will get there and it will be amazing."
“Tomorrow.” The tone of your voice is absolutely certainty, it the yawn immediately after does put a pin in the point. “We will get there tomorrow.”
"Tomorrow." He agrees and shifts you forward slightly as he pulls his hand away from your core. "For now, we need to get some rest so you can party tomorrow without falling asleep."
“What do you want to do tomorrow before the party?” Standing on wobbly legs in the bath takes a second, but when you wipe all the suds away and step out you’re steady enough.
"You have the day off." He hums, getting out beside you and wrapping a towel around you. "We could start off with brunch if you wanted to. Or whatever you want to do? Go to the famer's markets around here?"
“I switched my day off this week to make sure the wedding would go smoothly,” you explain. He’s large and warm and strong, and the feeling of safety doesn’t elude you. “So we have the whole weekend together if we want it.”
"I want it." He immediately tells you, frowning slightly as he towels you off carefully. Ignoring the water dripping off his own body so he can attend to you. "If you do, of course."
“Of course I do.” Grabbing the second towel off the stool, you start to dry him in turn. “Just…didn’t want to be clingy. That’s been a point against me in the past.”
"You don't have to worry about me being upset." Marcus assures you. "I have that same problem sometimes too."
“Jump in head first and get too clingy and it overwhelms them?” To find out he’s the same way is an odd sort of relief and solidarity, if you’re honest with yourself.
Marcus snorts and gives you an embarrassed wince. "I did propose in the hallway at work?" he offers. "Not some of my best romantic work, and after reflecting on it, I was feeling like the relationship was slipping away and I was desperate to save it."
“This was Teresa?” He had told you a bit about his exes — just little tidbits — during your phone calls and you hum when he nods. “No offense, honey? But it doesn’t really sound like she had her shit together in that relationship. That was not your fault.”
"No, but I held on even harder when I should have just let go." He admits, sighing softly. "Too quick to jump in, to give my heart, to plan for the future."
“You’d think I would have learned my lesson when I got cheated on.” You shake your head, drawing your towel around yourself and shrugging. “Oops.”
"I can't fucking believe someone would be dumb enough to cheat on you." He snorts, rolling his eyes at the idiocy of his sex.
“The only good part of the whole thing is that I managed to cut his cheek when I threw the ring at him,” you huff, shaking your head again as the two of you move into your bedroom together. The age-old cliche of finding your partner in bed with someone else had been your horrible reality just a few years ago. “Asshole. I hope he has a scar.”
"Me too." He huffs, "but you don't need to worry about that with me." He knows it's sounding like a complete line, but it's the truth. "I would never – I went to break up with Vanessa because just knowing you were my soulmate, I couldn't give her what she deserved."
“I…I felt like I needed confirmation,” you admit. After giving it a few seconds of thought you simply discard your towel in the laundry basket and climb into bed naked, pulling back the sheets to invite him to join you bare. “Just knowing we both had tattoos in the same place wasn’t enough. It could have been totally different designs, and then I would have been the idiot who jumped to conclusions and ruined both of our relationships for some unfounded crush. And then…at the State dinner…finding out you have my scar, too? I knew that was it. Everything I already felt for you in that moment was more than I had ever felt about anyone else.”
"I understand now." He had been hurt, deeply hurt, but he won't tell you that now. He doesn't want you upset about that, when you needed to take time for yourself to accept the possibility.
“I’m sorry if I…if I did things wrong.” Waiting for him to get in bed makes you a little self conscious but you swallow the idea that you might deserve it. “I don’t really know how to walk up to a person and tell them that the universe thinks they’re my perfect match.”
"Don’t' worry about that," Marcus slides into the bed beside and you and gathers you into his arms. Wanting to fold you against him and hold you close. "All that matters is that we know now."
“I love you.” You might have held it back before, but when you exhale this time the words come out all on their own. “I know that’s a lot, and don’t feel like you have to say it back until you’re ready. But I — I’m very grateful it’s you.”
He stares at you for a moment and then starts to laugh. Leaning in and nudging his nose against yours. "Sweetheart, I love you too." He promises softly through the chuckles. "I think I fell in love with you over board games that first night." He admits. " I just didn't let myself believe it."
Exhaling deeply, you burrow into his side and bury your face, just letting the right release of relieved laughter roll through you. Watery eyes and sniffles are nothing now. Not compared to the elated smile on your face. “You looked like a dream when you came into the inn that day. Like you’d stepped right out of my fantasies.”
"I wanted to ask you out." He confesses. "Until I learned you were seeing Sam."
“It’s all okay now.” It’s perfect now, as far as you’re concerned, and you press your lips to his with a smile curved up at the corners. “We’re where we’re supposed to be.”
"In bed, where you are fighting sleep so you can talk to me?" He teases gently, smiling back into your lips.
“Yes,” you huff at him as adorably as you can.
He laughs again, settling back into the pillows and pulling you with him, humming when you settle down onto his chest like you belong there. "Go to sleep, hummingbird." He urges quietly. "I'll be here when you wake up. I'm not going anywhere."
______
Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer
HHL: @haileymorelikestupid @anoverwhelmingdin @storiesofthefandomlovers @missladym1981 @babeincolor @angelofsmalldeath-codeine
My Masterlist!
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Most Datable Datable Character 2: Round 1 Matchups
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Part 1 links below the cut!
Qiu Lin from Our Life: Now and Forever VS Ai Mikaze from Uta no Prince-sama
Pashet from OZMAFIA!! VS Aigis from Persona 3
Flannan Mac Lugh from The Good People (Na Daoine Maithe) VS Fenris from Dragon Age 2
Flint from Postknight 2 VS Theo from Titan Arum
Fall-from-Grace from Planescape: Torment VS Xiao from Potion Permit
Rise Kujikawa from Persona 4 VS Kurt from GreedFall
Triss Merigold from The Witcher 3 VS Halsin from Baldur's Gate 3
Rowan from Boyfriend Dungeon VS Yuri Leclerc from Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Hook from A Villain's Twisted Heart VS Teo from The Ssum
Edelgard von Hresvelg from Fire Emblem: Three Houses VS Judy Alvarez from Cyberpunk 2077
Tae Takemi from Persona 5 VS Silas from Fire Emblem Fates
Alistair Theirin from Dragon Age: Origins VS Rachel Amber from Life is Strange: Before the Storm
Grim Reaper from A Date with Death VS QueenBee from Arcade Spirits
The Spirit from Hooked on You VS Jynx from Arcade Spirits: The New Challengers
Vetra Nyx from Mass Effect: Andromeda VS Felix Hugo Fraldarius from Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Lucifer from Obey Me VS Wakuu from Coral Island
Leviathan from Obey Me VS Allen from Harvest Moon 3D: A New Beginning
Curtis from Pokemon Black and White 2 VS Imtura Tal Kaelen from Blades of Light and Shadow
Rhapsody from Arcade Spirits: The New Challengers VS Jakob from Fire Emblem Fates
Haley from Stardew Valley VS Cameron from Trouble Comes Twice
Victor from Mr Love: Queen's Choice VS Mary Brown from Romance Club Arcanum
Linhardt von Hevring from Fire Emblem: Three Houses VS Ryoji Mochizuki from Persona 3
Caleb Zheng from Gilded Shadows VS Beelzebub from Obey Me
Sebille Kaleran from Divinity: Original Sin 2 VS Zoe from Monster Prom
Dorian Pavus from Dragon Age: Inquisition VS Felicity from Harvest Moon 3D: A New Beginning
707 from Mystic Messenger VS Loki from Romance Club Path of the Valkyrie
Lucifer from Romance Club Heaven's Secret VS Joyce from //TODO: today
Stephanie from Trouble Comes Twice VS Edel from Thorn for the Villain
Mitsuru Kirijo from Persona 3 VS Shadowheart from Baldur's Gate 3
Gale Dekarios from Baldur's Gate 3 VS Bernadetta von Varley from Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Elliot Damiani from Changeling VS Jeremy King from XOXO Droplets
Jax Argo from Later Daters VS Bella Goth from The Sims
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autisticadvocacy · 1 month
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Check out this interview with Black disability rights activist and advocate Anita Cameron about the erasure of Black disabled voices: http://notdeadyet.org/2022/07/pushblack-podcast-the-erasure-of-black-disabled-voices-with-anita-cameron.html
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emmie-tt · 1 year
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REQUEST LIST
Feel free to send requests love!!
HARRY POTTER
Harry potter
Draco Malfoy
Blaise Zabini
Ronald Weasley
Fred Weasley
George Weasley
Ginny Weasley
Hermione Granger
Luna Lovegood
Neville Longbottom
Mattheo Riddle
Theodore Nott
Tom Riddle
Severus Snape (PLATONIC ONLY)
Lucius Malfoy (PLATONIC ONLY)
Narcissa Malfoy (PLATONIC ONLY)
Bellatrix Lestrange (PLATONIC ONLY)
Remus Lupin (PLATONIC ONLY)
Sirius Black (PLATONIC ONLY)
Regulus Black (PLATONIC ONLY)
Molly Weasley (PLATONIC ONLY)
Arthur Weasley (PLATONIC ONLY)
STRANGER THINGS
Steve Harrington
Eddie Munson
Billy Hargrove
Eleven (PLATONIC ONLY)
Max Mayfeild (PLATONIC ONLY)
Will Byers (PLATONIC ONLY)
Mike Wheeler (PLATONIC ONLY)
Dustin Henderson (PLATONIC ONLY)
Nancy Wheeler
Jim Hopper (PLATONIC ONLY)
Robin Buckley
Chrissy Cuningham
Lucas Sinclair (PLATONIC ONLY)
Johnathan Byers
Erica Sinclair (PLATONIC ONLY)
Joyce Byers (PLATONIC ONLY)
Karen Wheeler (PLATONIC ONLY)
TWILIGHT
Edward Cullen
Jasper Hale
Alice Cullen
Carlisle Cullen (PLATONIC ONLY)
Bella Swan
Emmet Cullen
Jacob Black
Rosalie Hale
Esme Cullen (PLATONIC ONLY)
Charlie Swan (PLATONIC ONLY)
Renesmee Cullen (PLATONIC ONLY)
Leah Clearwater
Sam Uley
Seth Clearwater
AVATAR/AVATAR THE WAY OF WATER
Jake Sully
Neytiri Sully
Ts'utey
Neteyam Sully
Lo'ak Sully
Kiri Sully
Tuk Sully (PLATONIC ONLY)
Tonowari
Ronal
Tsireya
Ao'nung
Roxto
AVENGERS
Tony Stark / Iron Man
Steve Rogers / Captain America 
Bucky Barnes / Winter Soldier
Sam Wilson / Falcon
Natasha Romanoff / Black Widow 
Wanda Maximoff 
Clint Barton 
OUTER BANKS
JJ Maybank
John B. Routledge 
Rafe Cameron 
Sarah Cameron 
Kiara Carrera
Ward Cameron
GREYS ANATOMY
Merideth Grey
Lexi Grey
Derek Shepherd 
Amelia Shepherd 
Mark Sloan
Addison Montgomery 
Callie Torrez
Arizona Robbins 
Alex Karev 
George O'malley
Isabella Stevans 
Jackson Avery
April Kepner
Owen Hunt 
Christina Yang  
SHAMELESS
Fiona Gallagher
Veronica Fisher
Kevin Ball
Carl Gallagher
Lip Gallagher
Ian Gallagher (PLATONIC ONLY)
Debbie Gallagher
Jimmy Lishman
Mickey Milkovich (PLATONIC ONLY)
Svetlana Yevgenivna
Mandy Milkovich
Karen Jackson
MISC. CHARACTERS
Austin!Elvis Presley (Elvis - the movie) 
Thomas Shelby (Peaky Blinders)
Anthony Bridgerton (Bridgerton)
Olivia Pope (Scandal)
Fitzgerald Grant (Scandal) 
 MISC. CELEBS/PEOPLE
Elvis Presley 
Kylie Jenner
Kim Kardashian
Khloe Kardashian
Kourtney Kardashian
Kendall Jenner
Megan Fox
Chris Evans 
Sebastian Stan 
Sam Worthington 
RULES
No Smut, this may change but for the moment/until i get comfortable i'm only writing fluffy, angsty and platonic relationships
I wont write about R@pe, Abu$e or ince$st
All my writing will be fem/GN!reader, I wont go into detail about skin color, body type or really any personal details unless asked to
I want to keep my stories fun so try and keep the requests non boring lol :))
If you have any questions please ask
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castleclerics · 6 months
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possible origin for the idea of edward creel from the og inspo: montauk project, and other parallels
edward creel truthers pls listen to this part of this interview i’m gonna throw up
if you don't know, this is Preston Nichols, who wrote the book “The Montauk Project: an Experiment in Time” which is where the conspiracy that inspired ST originated from. in this interview he’s talking about Al Bielek, who was also involved with Montauk and their experiments for ref.
(I DO NOT KNOW WHY ET IS COVERING HIS FACE DONT ASK ME)
EDWARD?? NEW FAMILY????? GET ME OYUT OF HERE ,
(he also explains a lot of timeline stuff in there if u wanna look but it's hard to copy word for word bc he veers off a lot lmao)
i already knew about the Montauk MK-Ultra relations but only now am i finally relating all the experiments with time to all the time fuckery in this show
so Al claimed his name was actually Edward Cameron and to be one of the missing crewmen from “The Philadelphia Experiment” aka "Project Rainbow". here's some backstory:
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so when this ship vanished it was said that a green or blue fog took it's place. which is so funny especially because what i believe the ST fog to be is a visual representation of when a timeline or dimension switch happens. and Al claimed he slipped through time at random and landed in 1983 at Camp Hero because of the vanishing ship.
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like Vecna's victims get dragged to a different plane of existence or timeline when he has a hold on them (hence why they are no longer in their physical bodies) so cue the blue-green fog.
and at camp hero they did a lot of experiments with broadcasting to new alternate realities and time experiments. Duncan Cameron was used for these and they started to realize he could manifest objects outside the current time and they would appear hours or days later. which falls in line with ST. we see objects changing places especially right after some weird time-related thing just happened.
for example Joyce always "misplacing" her keys after shit happens to Will the night before, or Will's walkie falling in the bathroom but being right by his feet on the field.
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eventually Duncan could open an aperture and they started abducting boys aged 10-16 to send through the portal (probably what Preston is talking about in that interview)
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*cough cough Brenner controlling Henry or whoever tf to commit mass murder maybe who knows*
and their first training mission was always sending them way back in time to a world in ruins and without life.
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RAAAAAAAAAARARRARARARDRFDFDHSHF
Preston also claimed there was a large on-site library of videotapes for every mission
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so that's cool
last fun thing is that this video of Preston is interesting because he has this sound room in his house and he lays down and listens to the swan lake theme and says this is the same recording they played at Montauk "for the matrix or the background of the transmissions(?)"
he also has lights set up that flicker with the frequencies of the music yayyy
bro it just reminds me of Victor with DALDOM and he says vague stuff about how your you can travel to different places mentally by doing this and he sees weird activity like people appearing out of nowhere LIKE SHUT UPPPPP
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i think i covered everything all this digging was from months ago and i didn't take notes like an idiot so i had to research it all over again so i hope i didn't miss anything i originally wanted to include but this shit is wild !!!!
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tiny-tany-thaanos · 2 years
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One Piece - shipping drabble
Law x Nami
Just some silly, incorrect quotes about marriage and being in a relationship with pictures! That I personally think fit really well with the LawNa dynamic!
( I also think it is neat and fun to explore that possibility and idea between these two fictional characters)
Rating: SFW
Warnings: some minor bad language, but nothing too bad.
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I am aware this isn't a popular ship, but any form of hateful or negative comments will not be tollerated. You can like what you like and that's fine~ Because we all want to have fun, and a good time here! A wise person once told me: "If you got nothing nice or actually constructive to say, then probably don't say anything at all."
Let's spread love and kindness. Not hate and war.
(ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧ ✧゚・:❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🤍🩶🖤🤎
If you wanna see other stuff check out my
Main Shipping Harbor! Lots of verity there~
Heads up!
So marriage isn't just between a man and a woman. Marriage should be all about being with the one you love regardless of their gender or ethnicity. So long as it's not toxic or against the law (like actual cringe stuff)
Then go for it! Get out there and find love in whatever way makes you and your significant other happy~
Okay now that's outta the way...
To this self-indulgent drabble~
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Sleeping together:
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"Some mornings, I wake up grouchy. Other mornings, I just let him sleep." -Nami
(Quote from:Unknown - Marriage humor of great men and women.)
"Marriage is an alliance entered into by a man who can’t sleep with the window shut, and a woman who can’t sleep with the window open." -Law
(Quote from: George Bernard Shaw)
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The benifits of being married:
"Why do married people live longer than single people? I think it’s because married people make a special effort to live longer than their partner—just so they can have the last word." -Nami
(Quote from: Janet Periat)
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"Look, you want to know what marriage is really like? Fine. You wake up, she's there. You come back from work, she's there. You fall asleep, she's there. You eat dinner, she's there. You know? I mean, I know that sounds like a bad thing, but it's not." -Law
(Quote from: Robert Barbone - Everybody Loves Raymond)
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Tolerance and Compromise:
"I love you no matter what you do...
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...
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... but do you have to do so much of it?"
-Law and Nami
(Quoted from: Jean Illsley Clarke)
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A doctors' take on marriage:
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"Marriage is like vitamins: we supplement each other’s minimum daily requirements."
-Law
(Quote from: Kathy Mohnke)
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It's totally normal:
"My husband and I have never considered divorce… murder sometimes, but never divorce." - Nami
(Quote from: Dr. Joyce Brothers)
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"And she might be a pain in the ass. But she's my pain in the ass." -Law
(Quote from: A Very Potter Musical)
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Extra benefits:
"I married for love, but the obvious side benefit of having someone around to find my glasses can not be ignored."
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-Law & Nami
(Quote from: Cameron Esposito)
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Vows
"The first draft of my vows, which I wrote the day after we got engaged, clocked in at around 70 pages."
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-Law
(Quote from: Leslie - Parks and Recreation)
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This was meant to be.
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"I never fell in love with you.
Falling is an accident.
No, I walked aggressively
towards love for you.
It was on purpose and
with purpose." -Law
(Quote from: f.k.q)
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The greatest thing...
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"My most brilliant achievement was my ability to persuade my wife to marry me."
-Law
(Quote from: Sir Winston Churchill)
The End~
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Picture/Art work credits:
Law playing with Nami's hair by: Unkown
Law and Nami in a comfy place: saram_80
Nami putting her lip gloss on Law: @ZSxJvsKNpB7AVoE
Law fighting with Sanji and Nami trying to stop them: One Piece Episode - 913
LawNa week day 4: Height Differences - Unknown
Straw-Hat's and Nami laughing at a not so amused Law: shevoj
Nami beating everyone up. Including Law: Unknown
Nami helping Law with his Dressrosa disguise: Unknown
Law passed out at his desk, and his crew sneaking in with gifts for him: Unknown
Law and Nami meeting at Sasbody: xMinyuV
Nami whispering something into Law's ear: Unkown
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I do not own any of the pictures above nor characters from the One Piece franchise, but go give those artists and Anime/ Manga some love if you can!
And if you know who any of the "Unknown" Artists are, please send me a link to their portfolio (if it also includes the picture that's excellent too!)
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Want more? Check out this other LawNa Drabble I did (warning it is kinda sad).
Also, my main Shipping Harbor. For even more stuff to explore here on this blog!
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Like what you see? Consider sharing and / or leaving me a tip! Thank you, and I hope you have a lovely day~
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tiny-farlavia · 2 years
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billsbae · 1 year
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I love the background characters sm, like Jeffrey Anderson my beloved, so
What do we think about the poets siblings? Like we know that Neil is only child and Todd have at least one brother (jeffrey<3) but since we don’t know about the others take my silly headcanons lol
so like I said Neil is only child which makes me feel really depressed bc he didn’t have anyone to talk to when he was alone at home in summer with only his parents. Charlie’s only child too but unlike Neil, he likes that, he likes the attention and he get all his parents attention so he’s fine with that, he likes to sneak out in the summer for parties but he gets in trouble everytime. Also he lives really near to Knox, so he won’t feel alone when Knox comes round
Apart from Jeffrey, Todd has a little sister – hers name is Lilliana (but Jeffrey and Todd call her Lily) and she’s the sweetest child ever (she’s like 3 or 4, I don’t know how old mrs anderson actually is, but let say he had lily at 42) (I actually I had some headcanones about this girlie, maybe one day I’ll share ;3 )
Richard has a younger brother, his name’s Don. Don’s 11, they don’t have a bad relationship but neither a good one, Don has the pressure to be as good as his older brother, and he hates it. Cameron isn’t good in communication w people, so they aren’t as close as they liked to.
Pitts has a older brother named Marvin, they don’t have a good relationship because of the age gap (15 years), when he was four Marvin already moved out to collage, they didn’t see each other often, so the bond beetwen them doesn’t exist
Meeks has three sisters: Joyce, Sherry and Michelle. All of them are older than him. So basically Steven’s the baby of the family. The age gap between Joyce (the eldest) and Steven is 8 years, then between him and Sherry 5 and him and Michelle 3.
Knox has an older sister, her name’s Nancy (you and chris can’t be together yours star signs aren’t compatible) (fuck you) Nancy is 2 years older than him so the gap isn’t that big (listen to me when I say she won’t like that, I’m older) (so????) which means that they have a quite good relationship (i’m going to see charlie) (oh your boyfriend?) (what the fuck nancy??)
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ninadaily · 3 months
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numero_netherlands :
"Numéro Netherlands Digital proudly introduces Nina Dobrev, a talented actress, writer, and producer making waves as one of Hollywood’s rising leading ladies. Look out for her in the upcoming action thriller ‘The Bricklayer,’ releasing on January 5th. Featured in a captivating fashion story lensed by Cameron Postforoosh, Nina Dobrev exhibits her undeniable talent and charm.
Talent: Nina Dobrev @nina Photographer: Cameron Postforoosh @cameronpostforoosh Stylist/Fashion director: Raz Martinez @itsmerazzie@tunnelmediagroup Makeup: Soo Park @sooparkmakeup@thewallgroup Hair: Chris Naselli @cnaselli@thewallgroup Nails: Mamie Onishi @nailsbymamie@seemanagement Set design: Elaine Winter @elaine_winter_ Set design assistant: Aidan Lapp @aidanlapp Photography assistant: Bogdan Kwiatkowski @b.og.d.a.n Fashion market assistant: Celine Azena @celineazena Styling assistants: Diamond Monique, Joyce Onurh & Celine Azena @diamondmoniquee@neverandforalways@celineazena Editor: Timi Letonja @timiletonja Editorial director & interview: Jana Letonja @janaletonja Cover design: Arthur Roeloffzen @arthurroeloffzen Studio: Beaver Studio @16beaverstudio"
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thelonecalzone · 11 months
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At long last, here is the official reading list for There'll Be Some Changes Made, and a few recommendations from some of the readers! It's long, so hopefully there's a little something for everyone.
Thank you again to the wonderful readers, both for your encouragement, and for helping me compile this list <3
Recommendations (Named Throughout TBSCM)
The Pearl - John Steinbeck The House in the Cerulean Sea - TJ Klune The Great Alone - Kristin Hannah The Picture of Dorian Gray - Oscar Wilde Upon the Blue Couch - Laurie Kolp In the Dream House - Carmen Maria Machado The Price of Salt - Patricia Highsmith Paradise Rot - Jenny Hval Tipping the Velvet - Sarah Waters Fingersmith - Sarah Waters Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit - Jeanette Winterson Rubyfruit Jungle - Rita Mae Brown Under the Udala Trees - Chinelo Okparanta In at the Deep End - Kate Davies Some Girls Do - Jennifer Dugan This is How You Lose the Time War - Amal El-Mohtar, Max Gladstone  The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo - Taylor Jenkins Reid Lavender House - Lev AC Rosen My Brilliant Friend - Elena Ferrante Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe - Fannie Flagg Straight Jacket Winter - Esther DuQuette and Gilles Poulin-Denis
Source Books (Referenced, but not named)
The Odyssey - Homer The Yellow Wallpaper - Charlotte Perkins Gilman The Glass Menagerie - Tennessee Williams Hamlet - William Shakespeare The Great Gatsby - F. Scott Fitzgerald Come Along with Me - Shirley Jackson (unfinished novel) We Have Always Lived in the Castle - Shirley Jackson A Certain Hunger - Chelsea G. Summers The Poison Garden - AJ Banner
Honorable Mentions:
The Haunting of Hill House - Shirley Jackson Different Class - Joanne Harris The Lost Girls of Ireland (Book 1) - Susanne O’Leary The Girl Next Door - Jack Ketchum The Broken Girls - Simone St. James Dear Fahrenheit 451 - Annie Spence The Canterville Ghost - Oscar Wilde One Last Stop - Casey McQuiston Ash - Malinda Lo Everything Leads to You - Nina LaCour Camp Slaughter - Sergio Gomez The Silence of the Girls - Pat Barker The Metamorphosis - Franz Kafka A Slow Fire Burning - Paula Hawkins The Other Boleyn Girl - Philippa Gregory The Miseducation of Cameron Post - Emily M. Danforth Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
Banished (Under the Coffee Table) Books - DO NOT READ:
Ulysses - James Joyce Everything I Never Told You - Celeste Ng A Little Life - Hanya Yanagihara The Hunting Party - Lucy Foley My Sister’s Keeper - Jodi Picoult The Book Thief - Markus Zusak In the Darkroom - Susan Faludi Marley & Me - John Grogan
Recs from Fellow Readers
Things We Lost in the Fire - Marina Enriquez Her Body and Other Parties - Carmen Maria Machado The Well of Loneliness - Radclyffe Hall Stone Butch Blues - Leslie Feinberg Mouthful of Birds - Samantha Schweblin  The Safety of Objects - A.M. Homes Crush - Richard Siken The Taming of the Shrew - Shakespeare I’ve Got a Time Bomb - Sybil Lamb The Thing Around Your Neck - Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie Last Night at the Telegraph Club - Malinda Lo Sadie - Courtney Summers The Messy Lives of Book People - Phaedra Patrick The Southern Book Club’s Guide to Slaying Vampires - Grady Hendrix The Final Girl Support Group - Grady Hendrix The Lying Lives of Adults - Elena Ferrante They Were Here Before Us - Eric LaRocca The Patience Stone - Atiq Rahimi Agamemnon - Aeschylus Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead - Tom Stoppard Cat's Eye - Margaret Atwood Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz's poetry - (start with "You Foolish Men") The poems of Sappho - (“Anactoria”, the book of fragments, and “Goatherd” specifically)
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