#ME WHEN. WHEN THE CYCLES. ME WHEN THIS FUCKING BOOK SERIES AND THE CYCLES.

[whatkindofnameisella]

fitz saying to hap "you're as close to a son as i'm ever likely to get" makes me crazy. because fitz has a son!!! dutiful is his biological son, who has his looks and his magic, who only exists because fitz is alive. but in fitz's mind dutiful isn't his son --- dutiful is the prince. dutiful is verity's son. dutiful is this boy he's never met. no, hap is the closest he'll ever get to a son. an orphan he spent ten lonely years clumsily attempting to raise. this kid who doesn't look like him, doesn't have his magic, doesn't come from his body. as close as fitz will ever get to a son. a silent confession that burrich was as close as fitz will ever get to a father.

[boneless-mika]

Regaining my passion for reading while without any income certainly is bad timing. If you somehow didn't know, reading is an incredibly expensive hobby

[eclipseslayer]

SIT. DRINK.

➭ TOJI FUSHIGURO X F!READER SMUT ONESHOT

➭ SUMMARY: Your dad calls you over to sit in front of him, and he orders you to finish off his beer. Enthused with your obedience, he takes advantage of that.

➭ CW: DARK CONTENT. Incest, forced drinking, cockwarming, deep throating, Toji is meanish, Toji calls you 'kid' and 'sweetheart'.

➭ WC: 1.5kish

➭ A/N: Hello! I've done a drabble with icky!dad!Toji before, and honestly I really like doing them... so I'm wondering if I should make a series/compilation or something with icky!dad!Toji?? 👀 lmk in the comments or my ask box!! :) N e wayz enjoyyy.

"Come 'ere. Sit."

Toji points at the floor in front of him with his beer bottle, and you look up from your book you're reading.

Your eyes widen and you swallow thickly, knowing your dad wants something. It always puts a little fear in you, because your dad is disgusting. He's a grumpy, divorced, old man who got stuck with some kid out of wedlock, who happened to be you, so now he treats you like some sort of object, something to be used.

As much as you loathe him for it, a part of you actually loves it, though you don't think you'd ever admit that to yourself, at least, not out loud.

You close your book, and you get up. You slowly walk over to him, carpet brushing against the soles of your feet as you drag them, trying to take your time as you walk over to the old man.

Toji sees you taking your sweet time and he scoffs. He points to the floor again, and his beer sloshes in his bottle.

"I said, sit," his tone is harsher this time, almost spitting out his words.

With a huff, you nod and you pick up your pace. You then plop yourself onto your knees in front of your dad, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow, already knowing what he wants.

He leans back against the couch to get a good view of you. A wry grin appears etched onto his face as that scar of his quirks up, and those green eyes of his darken while a drunken gaze drinks in the sight of you.

His gaze makes you nervous, as you hardly ever know what he wants from you. You know you're here to be used, but you just don't know how, and that's what makes you so nervous. His jade eyes always make your heart thump in your chest as they always have something conniving cooking.

Suddenly, he thrusts his bottle out to you and he presses the glass opening of it against your lips. You blink quickly as you catch a quick whiff of the beer—cheap, and wheaty—and look back up at him.

"Drink. Finish this off for me."

"I—" You're about to try to defend yourself, as you're not looking to drink tonight, but your dad tuts, shaking his head disapprovingly. He reaches out and grips the root of your hair with his free hand and pushes your mouth against the tip of the glass bottle, forcing it into your mouth.

"I said, drink. Jesus, are you having a hard time hearing me tonight?" He mutters, and his words slur, clearly drunk.

You let out a whine and a grumble and you tilt your head back, allowing for the liquid to pour into your throat. There's about a half of the bottle left, so Toji makes you chug it, and he watches with narrowed as eyes as you drink.

"There we go... good girl..."

Fuck. You hated it when he praised you. He only praised you whenever you did his "evil" bidding, which is why you didn't mind doing it so much. You loved the praise, and he knew it, which is why you're so obedient to him. It's a constant cycle of you needing praise, and receiving it after you do something for him, and, you couldn't get enough. Sometimes, some of the things he made you do felt so good that you truly hadn't minded at all.

It was toxic, but... you honestly couldn't get enough of it, which is also why you hadn't moved out of the house yet.

His praise was addicting.

Once you finish the beer, your mouth leaves the bottle with a satisfying pop, and Toji hums. He runs a hand through your hair and sighs as he places the empty bottle with the rest of them, on the stand next to the couch.

He pats your face with a large, calloused hand and sighs, leaning against the couch again. His large frame takes up the majority of it, and his thick long legs are spread out in a man-spread.

He reaches down into his pants and you hear the faint sound of scratching. He yawns, looking at the TV briefly before turning his head back to you. You look at him, awaiting further instructions, and he chuckles, and you assume another idea has popped into his head.

"You got an oral fixation, right, sweetheart?" He slurs, and, honestly doesn't care if you do or not as he starts pulling down his sweatpants, the hem of them fits around his thighs so well.

"I... yes, I do," you reply, watching him as he now takes his hand and slides down his underwear around his thighs, as he reveals his, big, hard cock, sitting heavily on his stomach.

Toji raises an eyebrow and he hiccups. He nods and sighs. "That's right... I knew ya did, kid. I know you like suckin' on my dick, but you just don't wanna admit it, right?" He grins, and he watches as you shift on your knees, your gaze averting his. His grin widens.

"Ah, knew it," he sighs, and he leans forward with his cock in one hand, and presses the tip against your mouth, and, so willingly, you open it up for him, accepting him into your mouth.

He groans once he feels your warm, wet mouth, and he closes his eyes, leaning his head back. He takes a minute before he looks down at you.

"Just keep your mouth like this for me while I watch TV. I'll get you a fuckin' candy bar or somethin' if you suck me off," he chuckles, and you furrow your eyebrows because he still treats you like a little kid, rewarding you with dumb shit.

Nevertheless, you sigh, accepting this as you keep him in your mouth. Not like you're going to complain anyway. This was one of your favorite things to do for your dad, simply because it just felt so good to have something so thick fill up your mouth.

So, you sit for awhile as he leans back against the couch, watching TV. You don't move your mouth—just enjoying how good he feels—for about ten minutes until you feel your jaw start to hurt.

That's when you start moving your head, pushing your mouth all the way to his pelvis, and then pulling back until you're suckling on his tip.

Toji groans at this and turns his head back to you. He sighs, and he grips your hair, and begins guiding your wet mouth along his cock.

He revels in the feeling of your mouth, enjoying how tight and warm it gets when you hallow your cheeks, and when you do that little thing with your tongue.

His head leans back, looking down at you as he admires how good you look, sucking on his cock. Sure, it was wrong, but that was why he drank, to get the mental block out of his head so he could easily get his dick wet. You were never one to say no. Hell, he wasn't sure why you were so easy, but he wasn't going to knock the opportunity.

You, on the other hand, are having such a good time as you moan softly on his cock, loving the feeling of how good he feels in your mouth. He feels so good that you're drooling on his cock, making a mess of it all over his length. You soon add your hand to the mix, pumping the length of his shaft while your mouth drools all over the tip, licking and sucking so fervently that it has Toji cursing under his breath.

"Shit, kid, fuck, your mouth does such a good job..." He groans and a big hand grips your hair tightly once more, guiding you along his cock, except, he decides to cruelly change the pace up, making it so his cock hits the back of your throat.

You let out a gag in surprise, your eyes widening and your hands quickly move to grip his thighs. His thick cock bullies into the back of your throat as you let out choked moans.

Saliva coats his dick, and drips down to his balls as you're uncontrollably salivating all over him, simply because that big tip of his bruises the back of your throat, allowing for no control over your mouth.

He groans with almost every thrust, and his breath gets heavy. He chuckles as he sees you struggle to take him, your hands gripping his thighs so tightly that he finds it so hilarious as he lets out yet another mean chuckle.

"That's right... gonna cum in this mouth, yeah? How's that for ya?" He grins wickedly, and, with one, two, three more thrusts, he slams your nose against his pelvis, leaving you choking on his dick as his cum suddenly spurts into your mouth. Load after load fills your throat, and you swallow it quickly.

Your nose scrunches up at the taste, as it damn near tastes like battery acid from the amount of beer he just had. You want to choke it up, but you know better, and so you swallow each spurt of cum until he rips his cock out of your throat.

He watches with a satisfied gaze as you choke for air, leaning over his thighs.

"Good girl." He reaches down into his pants pocket and fishes out a couple yen bills. "Go buy a candy bar at the corner store or somethin'. I don't fuckin' know."

[danandfuckingjonlmao]

ok some things i LIKED about tua 4 since we all have talked exclusively about what we hated (SPOILERS AHEAD):

idc what anyone says the baby shark bit was iconic every time it came on i jammed

klaus had a comic book storyline from hotel oblivion!! let’s go source material!!

diego and luther being himbos

allison and klaus friendship

the entire birthday party scene was hilarious and fun and so THEM ok

the road trip scene that was in the trailer such iconic sibling goofy clownery they’re fucking idiots

klaus. he was in it. any time i get to see my little freak is time well spent.

incredibly unpopular opinion but i liked the ending i think they need an end from the cycle of apocalypses and suffering like they deserve a rest they’ve earned it and it was sweet that they all went together and the “i love you guys………but you’re all such fucking assholes” and then “fuck you” and everyone laughing and crying and THEN AND THEN ALL THE CHARACTERS FROM THE VARIOUS SEASONS BEING AT THE END i was SOBBING

klaus having a podcast of himself giving himself affirmations like that’s so funny

they actually gave somewhat of a shit about each other like diego was so DAD my babies have grown up but not too much they’re still fucking toddlers

lila is so pretty and funny and hot and unhinged she means so much to me

lila and klaus friendship!! lila and allison!! bonding!!

gene and jean were SUCH classic umbrella academy characters. loved them.

viktor gets all the pussy

i cannot stress how much all of the group scenes were so fucking sibling i love them ok

NO LUTHER AND ALLISON INCEST THANK FUCK

THUNDERBOLT THE GHOST DOG <3<3<3

klaus and claire oh my god i love uncle klaus so much and he loves her so much

seeing sober klaus and how hard he tried and then the heartbreak when that went away because he’s KLAUS he’s gerard way’s trauma self insert. as much as i want klaus to be safe and content and free from all this bullshit it was just so consistent and i can appreciate that. and i cried like a little bitch it was truly devastating but it was just sooooo klaus. also getting to see him make it incredibly clear that he didn’t want his powers back—him being the ONLY ONE who didn’t want his powers back—was important to me idk. and he was LOVED like he has a family!! he is cared for!! ahhHHHHHH!! love it

claire was great and getting to see her and allison and their tumultuous relationship and their love for each other after all of these seasons of allison looking for her and just wanting to be with her daughter

klaus got dave’s dog tags <3

more flashbacks to brellie kids!!

getting answers to some series-long mysteries

the underground subway system between timelines was so fucking cool and mindfucky 100/10

klaus’s look being reminiscent of s1 sorry that was my favourite klaus look ok

their sort of evolved powers when they got them back

so many good one liners and comedic scenes

ben being a crypto bro is SO FUNNY

will add stuff as i think of it. this is incredibly out of character for me i am an eternal pessimist but i did enjoy s4 (mostly because, as an eternal pessimist, my expectations are always low) so here we are.

[thetriumphantpanda]

two is better than one | joel & tommy miller

Summary | Frustrated that whatever you're trying to do still isn't working, you decide to give it one more try with Joel before cooling off for a while. Tommy is back to keep an eye on the both of you this time, but what happens when he starts to feel a little left out, watching his brother bring his girl over the edge more times than he cares to count?

Warnings | I swear I always start this the same way so here we go: Tommy getting cucked but also getting involved this time 👀, Joel being a fucking menace, dirty talk, oral sex (F&M receiving), face sitting, breeding kink, unprotected PiV sex, talk of infertility, no use of Y/N

Word Count | 3.8k

Authors Note | Whew. When I tell you this little threesome has been rotting my brain, I'm not lying. This is the only thing I can focus on, hence them being updated so fast! I just wanted to say a huge thank you to you all for the continued love you're giving this series - it honestly blows my mind every time that it's something you guys enjoy, that my writing reaches so many people and that they lap that shit up. I'm so grateful to everyone who has taken the time to comment, send me asks, reblogs and those who have slid into my DMs with all the love. I see you, I hear you, and I love you all - thank you. I hope you enjoy this next part just as much as the rest - it's a doozy. You know the drill, if you did like it, please consider reblogging, commenting or sending the love to my ask box, it's what keeps me going. And if you'd like to leave me a tip (of course no pressure!), then here's my Ko-Fi.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Another month and another fucking negative pregnancy test. You knew it was irrational, but you were starting to think that maybe you were also part of the problem now. You’d been doing everything right, following all the advice in the books you’d bought almost a year ago when Tommy and you had first started trying for a baby. You’d been exercising, eating as healthily as possible, tried to keep yourself a stress-free as possible. You’d been keeping a close eye on your cycle and still, nothing to show for it. 

When you clambered down the stairs, test in hand and flung it in Tommy’s direction, he already knew. He could see the heavy set of your shoulders, the quiet sniffling of you trying to hide the fact you were crying. Tommy had settled you on the couch, covered you in a blanket and made you some tea. Then he’d made your favourite meal for dinner, even driven to the store and picked up Diet Coke, emptied a can into a glass filled with ice and lime juice like you loved, but none of it really helped to soothe how upset you were. 

The TV was on low, and he had your head in his lap, slowly stroking the strands of your hair as you tried to calm yourself down. Remind yourself that even the most fertile of couples needed to try for months sometimes before they had their first baby. It was stupid to think you’d be any different. 

“You’re thinkin’ way too loud, sugar.” Tommy muses, letting his hand run up and down your arm instead. 

“Sorry,” You mumble, “Just thought it would be easier.” 

“I know,” He coos, “We can take a break for a while, if you want.” 

You turn so you’re led on your back, looking right up at him, “I just want a baby.” You feel a tear slip down your cheek to pool near your ear. 

Tommy uses his thumb to brush away the tears that have started to fall, bobbing his leg up and down gently to try and soothe you, “It’s still fresh,” He speaks softly, “Let’s give it a couple of days and see what you want to do, okay?” 

You nod in agreement, feeling the beginnings of a headache pooling behind your eyes. You push yourself up into a sitting position and turn around to press a soft kiss to his lips, “I’m gonna go to bed,” You announce, “Headache.” 

He lets you go, it’s still early and you know there’s the game highlights he wanted to watch. In bed, you can do nothing but toss and turn for a few hours. Every time you’d try to close your eyes, all you could see was vision of you and Joel, in all the different positions he’d put you in so far, and all for what? When the bedside clock hit 10:30, you head out to use the bathroom. As you near the door at the top of the stairs you can hear Tommy talking to someone, through the phone because his is the only voice you can hear. 

“I know, brother, she’s just really beat up about it,” You hear him say, “I don’t know how to make it better.” 

You lean against the closed bathroom door, wondering if perhaps you should leave Tommy to talk to Joel. There’s a pause where you can hear Tommy humming along to whatever Joel is saying on the other end of the phone. 

“I dunno man,” Tommy sighs, “You managed to knock Sarah’s mom up on a one-night stand, guess I thought it would be easier for you.” 

There’s another pause, then he’s speaking again. 

“No Joel, all of her tests came back perfect,” Another sigh, “I was always the problem.”

You’re about to push down the handle to go to the bathroom when Tommy speaks again, “I don’t know, maybe we should just cool it for a while, we’re all gonna work ourselves up otherwise.” 

You decide you don’t really want to hear the rest of the conversation. You sit on the toilet and let your face drop to your hands in frustration. Why couldn’t you just be normal? Why couldn’t you have been a nice, normal couple, having a baby in the most natural way possible? Why did this have to come along and fucking complicate everything? And why did Joel have to be so fucking good to you every time? 

You wash your hands under the tap, water as scalding as it could go, just in order to feel something that wasn’t frustration before you head to bed. There’s no longer the sound of voices as you pad back across the hall and get back into bed, shutting off the lights and curling onto one side, knees as close to your chest as you can manage to get them. It’s not long before you can hear Tommy shuffling around upstairs. He pushes open the bedroom door quietly, obviously thinking you’re already asleep. You can hear him undressing before he's slipping onto his side of the bed, pulling your body close to his under the covers as he spoons you. 

You let your own arm cover his over your waist as you lean back into the comfort of his chest, letting his breath fan across the skin of your shoulder as he presses a kiss to your skin. 

“I wanna try again,” You speak softly into the dark, feeling Tommy’s arm’s squeeze you tighter, “Once more and then we cool it for a while.” 

“You sure?” He asks into your ear, lips pressing to the sensitive skin behind your ear. 

“I’m sure.” You respond, turning around in his arms to capture his lips in yours. 

When the time comes to try again, it’s you who greets Joel at the door when he knocks. Tommy already upstairs and situated in the chair he had taken the first time you’d done this as a three. Joel leans down, lips just millimeters from your own, but instead of kissing your mouth, he places a soft kiss to your cheek instead. 

“Hello, darlin’.” 

You step up onto your tiptoes to press your own kiss to his face, just shy of the corner of his mouth – the kisses from last time still a secret between the two of you. 

“Evening handsome,” You smile, pulling away from him to close the door as he steps inside, “You ready?” 

“To give you what you want?” He smirks, “Always, pretty girl.” 

You feel that telltale heat flush across your cheeks as Joel pulls you into his side, hand dipping down to squeeze your ass over the fabric of the robe you’d thrown on moments ago. God, why did he have to be so fucking intoxicating around you?

You take hold of his hand in yours, leading him up the stairs behind you. Tommy was reading a book as you entered the room, folding the corner of the page before setting it down on the nightstand closest to the chair. You can’t help but snigger as you watch him and Joel give each other the typical male greeting of a curt nod of the head. 

You drag Joel by the arm to the foot of the bed, pushing his shoulders down so he sits on the edge. Then you take a step back and tug on the belt of your robe, letting it fall open and off your body to leave you completely naked in front of him. You watch his face as he trails those beautiful brown eyes over your body, letting out a low whistle of approval. 

“Beautiful as ever, darlin’,” He compliments, reaching out a hand for you to take, “But you’re worked up, ain’t ya? And not in the good way.” 

Your eyes flit to Tommy in the corner of the room, who has that smug ‘I told you so’ look on his face. You’d been itching for Tommy to arrange this since that ovulation test said you were in the zone, but Joel had been working away for the past two days, and now you were worried that if you didn’t hurry the fuck up, you’d miss your chance. 

Joel reaches out and puts his hands on the back of your thighs, pulling you into him, he’s looking up at you, pressing hot kisses to the skin of your tummy, “Gotta relax babygirl,” He moans, “I’m tryin’ my damned hardest, but you just gotta let nature take its course.” 

“Just frustrating.” You mumble. 

“I know baby, I know,” He’s got his hands palming your tits now, “Long as I need to, I’ll keep fillin’ you up, y’hear me?” 

Your breath catches in your throat and all you can do is nod as he moves himself back on the bed. 

Joel leans back on the bed, his head just shy of the pillows, “Sit on my face, pretty girl.” 

You’re almost embarrassed at how quickly you scramble yourself onto the bed, moving up to straddle his hips – even Tommy is chuckling from his chair. 

“Can’t get enough of Joel’s mouth on your pussy, can you, sugar?” He speaks in a low voice. 

Joel has his hands on your ass, guiding your naked body to hover over his face before his hands are slipping up to your hips to pull your cunt to his mouth. He wastes no time in getting straight to business, wide tongue licking stripes from your entrance, where he laps up your slick like a cat would cream, to those deliciously tight flicks of the tip of his tongue to your clit. You can hear him groaning into your pussy, your hand coming down to anchor itself into his hair to hold him still as you start grinding against his face. 

You can hear the obscene slurps that he’s making underneath you, it’s half the reason you think it takes you no time at all to reach the edge, because he fucking enjoys this just as much as you do, he loves tasting you, loves making you feel good and you can feel that, can feel it on his mouth. 

As you throw your head back as Joel’s tongue swipes perfectly across your clit, you catch Tommy in the corner of the room. He’s palming himself through his jeans as he watches you, your body writhing as his brother’s mouth brings you closer and closer to the edge. It wouldn’t hurt, would it? You think, if you asked if he wanted you to help him out. 

“You feeling left out baby?” You coo, reaching your hand out for Tommy to take, “Joel gets my pussy tonight,” You punctuate with a grind of your pussy down onto his mouth, “But I can help you, if you want.” 

He’s standing at the edge of the bed in minutes, his hand pressing into the back of your neck, not unlike how he tries to work the knots from there when you watch TV together. It’s soft and it’s loving and a complete juxtaposition to the vice grip that Joel’s fingers currently have on your hips. 

Your lips are impossibly close to Tommy’s, you could easily lean forward and kiss him, instead, you have a demand, “Take off your pants.” 

Tommy’s hands start to undo the belt holding his jeans up, so you turn your attention back to Joel between your thighs. He is expertly holding you right on the edge, you’re mewling and whining as he tongue works you to the edge, and then pulls away, moving down to gather more of your slick on his tongue. 

You drop your head and catch his eyes looking up at you, “You gonna tease me all night, Miller?” You ask, voice cracking as he makes a point to suckle on your clit, making you cry out, “Fuck, make me come, please Joel.” 

All of a sudden, Tommy’s hand is on your face, pulling your mouth to his own in a searing kiss as he guides your hand to his cock. You’re moaning, a combination of the fact that any second, Joel’s mouth is going to have you screaming and the fact that it’s Tommy kissing you, his cock you’re currently pumping through your fist. It’s delicious and it’s filthy and it should feel all shades of wrong, but it fucking doesn’t. 

You feel it in your legs first, the way they begin to shake and pulse and your thighs clamp around Joel’s face. Then you feel it in your abdomen, like a knot unfurling all at once as pleasure bursts over every inch of your skin. Your mouth detaching from Tommy’s, so you can cry out his brother’s name as you feel yourself almost collapse onto him. 

“Such a good girl,” Tommy breathes into your ear, your hand still firmly held around his cock, “So good when you come for us like that.” 

You feel Joel’s hands tapping at the cheeks of your ass, telling you to lift yourself off his face which you do, dragging yourself down enough so that you’re sat across his chest, not caring that your leaking pussy is dragging slick all over him. His face is covered, covered in you. He’s grinning up at you like the devil, tongue circling his mouth to clean your taste from wherever he can reach. 

“I gotta be inside you, pretty girl.” You can hear his gruff voice speak. 

Tommy immediately moves back from you so you can settle yourself down on the bed. You start on your back, but Joel moves you to lie on your side. He’s still fully clothed behind you, but when he presses himself up against you, you can feel his thick cock straining in his jeans. 

“Take your clothes off.” Is all you can manage to whine as Tommy settles on his knees on the space in front of you, taking the back of your head in the palm of his hand to bring your mouth to his cock. 

Joel shuffles away from you and you feel the mattress lighten as he gets off the bed to shed his clothes. You almost wish you could watch, there’s something about the way Joel reveals his body to you that drives you wild. The way he drags his shirt off to reveal his broad frame, chest peppered with hair, or the way his cock bounces when he finally pulls off his underwear. But right now, you’re focused on making your man feel good. 

You’re making sure that you’re doing it exactly as Tommy likes, almost telling him through the ministrations of your mouth how grateful you are for him, for this being his idea, for loving you enough and trusting you enough to let someone else give you what he cannot. You’re giving all the attention of your tongue to the head of Tommy’s weeping cock, tasting the salt and musk of his pre-cum, using one had to pump the base of his cock. 

You can feel Joel settle back behind you, pressing his entire body against your own, hard cock slipping through the slick folds of your cunt as he settles himself in the right position, then, he’s taking hold of your leg, hand in the crux of your knee to pull it up, baring his prize. He slowly inches his cock inside your tight heat and suddenly it’s all a little overwhelming. 

You’re giving the love of your life the kind of head you’ve only ever seen in porn, Tommy taking most of the control to thrust in and out of your mouth. You’re pretty sure the tears falling from your eyes are a mixture of his length hitting the back of your throat and the overwhelming emotion, love, and admiration you feel for both the men who are crowding your body, owning it, taking what they both want, one of them hopefully leaving you with what you want. 

You pull your face away from Tommy’s cock for a moment, still giving his length the attention it needs, but you let yourself lean into Joel behind you, his cock still moving languidly inside you. He’s got one of his arms snaked under your neck, your head leant against his arm like a pillow, his other hand holding your leg up so that every time his cock brushes inside you, it’s hitting that damn spot that makes you want to cry. 

“Look at you, lucky girl,” Joel growls into your ear as his lifts your leg up higher, pushing it almost to lie flat aagainst your side, “One cock in that pretty little pussy, another in your mouth,” You let a moan, muffled by the fact that Tommy is currently doing a slap-up job of fucking your throat, “He’s a lucky man,” Joel speaks again, “Bet that mouth feels divine.” 

“You ask nicely, she might oblige you, brother.” 

You feel him puff air through his nose in a chuckle, “I’m quite happy right where I am,” He speaks, pumping his cock so deep inside you that you actually think you can see stars, “You’re a lucky son-of-a-bitch gettin’ this for the rest of your life.” 

“She’s special, I’ll give you that.” 

It’s like you have to prove him right now. You can feel the walls of your pussy clenching around Joel as he picks up his pace. You can feel his balls slapping into your skin with every thrust, the power behind them causing your mouth to take Tommy cock deeper into your mouth every time. 

“Sugar, I ain’t gonna last much longer.” You hear him speak from above you. 

You pull off him, again letting your hand work him as you look up at his through your lashes, “You want me to swallow for you, baby?” You asked, wondering what you must look like when he looks down at you, fucked out from his brother, begging for him to come down your throat. 

“There’s an offer I cannot refuse,” Tommy grins, letting your mouth take him back inside the warmth, “Such a good girl.” 

He only lasts a few more seconds, cum hitting your tongue and seeping down your throat. You swallow down every drop, grinning up at Tommy. He leans down and plants a kiss to your lips, and now your focus is on Joel, thick and solid, pumping his cock in and out of you. 

“You focus on Joel now, sugar,” He croons, “I’m gonna sit back and watch you have fun.” 

As soon as Tommy has moved away from you, Joel is pulling his cock from your pussy, turning you onto your back before he’s crowding his frame over you, settling between your thighs. You’re pliant and you move easily when he hooks your legs over his shoulders, folding you back as he slips his cock back inside you. 

You’re gripping his arms as he fucks into you in earnest now, tip of his cock bruising your cervix with every thrust, you know he’ll have half-moon shaped marks on his arms come the morning, they’ll match the bruises he always leaves on your hips, the shape of his fingertips indented into your skin. 

“God fuckin’ damnit,” Joel groan, head falling to the column of your throat to graze teeth and lips over your delicate skin, “Gonna come so deep in this fuckin’ pussy it won’t have a choice but to take, you hear me, pretty girl?” 

“Fuck!” You exclaim, as he shifts just enough to change the angle that his cock is spearing into you, “Joel please.” 

“Please what?” He teases, “What do you want, babygirl?” 

“Inside,” You breath out, “Want you inside.” 

“Yeah, want me to make you a mama?” You can feel tears pooling in your eyes, “No need to cry, pretty girl,” He leans down, folding you in half even more, almost uncomfortable, to kiss away the tears, “Gonna give you what you need.” 

He thankfully moves back a little, stopping your bones from screaming at you for being folded so inhumanely, then his thumb is on your clit, “Only gonna make you a mama if you come with me,” Joel smirks, “Deal?” 

“Oh god – fuck – whatever you want,” You cry, “Please, give me what I want.” 

His thumb is relentless on your already sensitive clit, those tight circles have you clenching around him and when you look into his eyes you know he’s just as close as you are, “That’s it baby, you keep those big, beautiful eyes on me,” Joel’s hips are snapping into your with a force you didn’t know you could feel, it’s entirely too much and entirely too little all at the same time, “Can feel that tight little pussy suckin’ me in,” You cry out as his thumb falters and drags across your clit in a way that has that not threatening to unfurl yet again, “It’s alright baby, if you come, I’ll follow, yeah?” 

That’s exactly what happens. His thumb traces wet circles over your clit and you do exactly as he says. You keep your eyes wide open, staring directly into his own, as your mouth falls open with a screech as your vision clouds. Whatever happens, Joel is right behind you, his cock pounds into at most, twice more, before he’s growling your name through his teeth, cum painting every inch of your pussy. He drops your legs from his shoulders, and falls forward, letting his head rest in the crook of your neck as you both fight to catch your breath.

You wrap your arms around him but it’s all too soon before he’s pulling himself out of you, a kiss to your cheek as he does so. You’re spent and you’re aching and if you’re honest, a little overwhelmed. Joel dresses quickly, and you wish you could ask him to stay, wish he didn’t feel the need to run away, but you know it’s for the best. Tommy tells you he’ll see him out and come to bed, so you roll over and pull yourself under the sheets, trying to warm yourself from the cool air that’s spattering across the sweat of your skin. 

Tommy is back within minutes having seen Joel off. He shed his clothes and moves right up behind you, gathering you into his arms. He takes some time to press kisses into your neck and across your shoulders and for some reason, it sets your belly on fire. How have you been fucked so thoroughly by another man, this man’s own brother, and now you’re aching for this man behind you. 

“I love you so much, Tommy,” You whisper into the dark, clutching at his arms wrapped around you, “So fucking much.” 

“I love you too baby,” He whispers into your ear, stilling your hips as they grind back into him, “Enough of that, I’ll give you what you want tomorrow.” 

[unganseylike]

it still angers me that trc didn’t take place over the course of a full year. we are told at the beginning of trb that gansey will die between this st marks eve and next. this seems to imply the series will be bookended by st marks, and that perhaps the climactic foretold death will take place as they approach the next spring with a building sense of doom and inevitability. this is one of the few places where i actually remember my thoughts during the first time i read the series, and i clearly remember assuming that would be the case. it’s literally a cycle. ok, maybe we could’ve done one season per book, with book 4 approaching the end of winter/early spring when st marks occurs. it seems like we are on the right track- book 1 occurs over the spring, book 2 the summer. but then book 3 and 4 are both just the fall??? the symbolism couldve been there man. bllb couldve had all these autumn metaphors about the border between life (first half of the series, spring/summer) and death (gansey’s, winter). and trk couldve been like winter, but late- we get to see the leaves start to bud again. it’s a fucking cycle man. i have been thinking about this since 2016.

[foli-vora]

one step at a time: ch 5.

pero tovar x f!reader

masterlist | series masterlist

A/N: lord almighty, it's been a fucking while. I admit to abandoning these two for other things and that's my bad, but I hope I can rekindle this almost dead fire because these two are so fucking fun to write and I enjoyed getting back into their little growing dynamic. Hope you enjoy! x

Word count: just over 2.3k I think

Warnings: Tovar needs to understand the five second rule only applies in certain locations and in public is not one of them, bit of sexism on his part, alcohol and drunken shenanigans, some dude being a prick, swearing, he's warming up to you slowly but surely lmao

! please note that this story is for 18+ only due to future explicit scenes !

He’s been standing there for a good ten minutes, studying the methodical spinning of the drum, eyes following the clothes and how they tumble in the soapy water. You don’t know how the original clothing he appeared in will handle the vigorous cycle of a twenty-first century washing machine, but he seemed intrigued enough to give it a go.

With Tovar now living with you for an unknown amount of time, it pushed you to actually get a few needed things done around the apartment—like the pile of laundry you had been pretending to not see every time you walked into your bedroom. And now, with having an extra person creating their own build up of clothing, the pile was something you could no longer ignore.

Along with your bank account.

Tovar had noticed the steadily declining stash of snacks in the cupboards that had yet to be replaced, but had remained surprisingly quiet about it all. You had been braced for some sort of adult tantrum about sugar, but instead you started to notice little differences in the way he acted around food.

He doesn’t raid the cupboards anymore. In fact, he had asked before getting any sort of snack a few days ago. He waited for you to have your fill at lunch and dinner before having seconds. You had told him not to worry—you were getting back into work and already had a couple of projects lined up, but so far his new habits hadn’t wavered.

“Is there nothing I can do to help you, loquita?” He had asked over breakfast, and he was so earnest in his questioning, so eager to help you in any way that he could financially that you felt your heart do a little somersault. “I want to work, let me help you while I am here.”

His later stubborn declaration that he wouldn’t let you shoulder the burden alone after refusing his offer didn’t help whatever feelings were stirring to life in your body, but the comment about how women shouldn’t even be working and it was a man’s responsibility to provide did help cover them.

Dick.

Tovar slips into the chair next to you, apparently tired of the magnificence of a washing machine, and sighs. “I am bored.”

“Deal with it.”

You tilt your open book away from his prying eyes as he strains to read over your arm, and fight a smile as he grumbles angrily to himself, slouching down in the aged plastic chair and crossing his arms like a child. Just when you think the silence is going to stay around, that he was just accepting defeat and waiting like a normal human being, he pipes up beside you.

“How do you do that?” It’s almost a demand.

You tear your eyes away from your book and raise a brow in question at him.

“The… the thing in your mouth. How do you blow it like that?”

Your tongue forms another bubble of gum before he can finish his questioning, and you fight the creepings of a grin starting to tug at the corner of your lips when his scowl merely deepens at the sharp pop.

“Bubblegum,” you offer as an explanation, reaching into your bag and offering him the crinkled packet. “It took me a while to learn when I was a kid, but you’ve just gotta have patience. It might be tricky for you.”

He half heartedly scoffs, “I have patience.”

You snort in disagreement, “Okay. Chew it for a while, but don’t swallow it. Once it’s all soft and wet, you can start trying.”

He makes a noise when he determines the fruity treat is ready, and you lay out simple instructions for him to follow along, which he does.

For the most part.

It’s only a few tries later when you hear the gum land on the floor after an overzealous attempt at blowing a bubble, the man practically staring daggers at the pale pink glob a foot or two in front of him.

You eye the wet lump of gum with a snicker and reach for a fresh stick, “Obviously don’t blow it that hard. No, don’t—”

It’s too late. He pinches the well chewed treat from the grimy surface of the floor and puts it back in his mouth before resuming his efforts. Your face is pinched in horror when his eyes finally land back on you, and he tilts his head in question. He’s not serious.

“Get that out of your mouth right now.”

He bats you away when you reach a hand for him, and you practically throw your book down onto your bag to get at him with two hands. You stand over him, fighting his half hearted attempts to get you away from him easily and squeeze at his jaw, fingers digging into his lips to try and pry his mouth open.

“Tovar, spit it out!”

His head turns away from your grasp and he growls, “No—”

“I’m serious, spit it out!”

“Get off me, woman!”

“You don’t eat gum off the floor! What is wrong with you? Spit it out!”

—

Music fills the little bar around the corner from your apartment, conversation buzzing in the air filled with the occasional laugh. It’s your favourite place to go when you feel like you’ve been spending maybe a little too long cramped on your couch with minimal human interaction. Tricia, a friend from college, owned it with her girlfriend Lily, and gave you quite the wonderful little discount whenever you decided to swing by.

A good thing to have under your sleeve when you’ve got a bottomless pit of a man to feed and entertain for however long.

“Are you still sulking?”

A sharp scoff.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you sigh, placing the little cocktail list down and levelling him with a look of annoyance. “Cut it out, you manchild. You ate gum off the floor and that’s gross.”

“You didn’t have to yell at me,” Tovar replies grumpily, arms still crossed over his chest and lips pursed into a little disgruntled pout.

Sighing, your head dips into a nod and you hold your hands up in a show of surrender. “You’re right. I’m sorry for yelling, okay? Can you forgive me?”

“Say it like you mean it.”

“You’re not serious."

“Try me.”

He wants to play? Fine.

“Oh sweet and wonderful Tovar," you ooze, tone honeyed and apologetic, "how appalled I am by my previous actions after you ate gum off the filthy laundromat floor. Please, won't you find it in your heart to forgive me lest I throw myself onto this very floor and weep at your feet?"

He’s thoroughly unimpressed, staring unblinkingly back at you before he smacks his lips quietly and tilts his head.

“Dramatic, but I accept.”

“Good. Now let’s get drunk.”

“Fine,” he sniffs, making a show of appearing uninterested in the offer but the telltale signs of a smile start to tug at the corners of his lips. “Watching you make a fool of yourself will amuse me.”

“Don’t be mean,” you chide with a grin, picking the menu back up and looking over the list of options. “How about a cosmo? Mojito? Sex on the Beach?”

He has a look of confusion when you peer up at him after a beat of silence. “There are no beaches around here.”

“Not actual sex on the beach, Tovar. It’s a drink. God, do you really think they’d have that on a menu?”

“A man can dream.”

“Oh, he has a sense of humour tonight,” you drawl sarcastically to yourself. “Think I prefer you all quiet and sulky.”

“Now who’s being mean?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Screw it—let’s get shots. You gonna be able to hold your drink, mercenary man?”

His lips curl into a small smirk at your challenge and it seems to hit somewhere deep in your stomach. You swallow the sudden dryness in your throat, desperately fighting the flush of warmth that threatens to spread along your skin.

“I guess we’ll find out, won’t we, loquita?”

Were they a good idea? Yes, but you’re sure you’ll think differently in the morning.

The first round burns, and you relish in the fire that spreads along your throat as it goes down. He takes it well, merely swallowing it down and chasing the remnants of alcohol from his lips with a quick roll of tongue.

Something you definitely don’t watch with a wave of warmth tingling along down your spine. 

The second goes down the same, albeit birthing a pleasant buzz to your system that extends to Tovar.

Surprisingly, he’s a talker. The alcohol loosens him up, and soon enough he’s telling you of his time… world—whichever it is. He tells you of his friend William, and the adventures they had. His storytelling is immersive, and soon you’re picturing him riding his horse into a small battle donned in that hulking armour and swinging that heavy sword of his.

Hot.

You wisely keep that fleeting thought to yourself.

He asks questions. So many questions you find yourself talking and talking and talking. He takes it all in, never once making you feel that he was bored or uninterested in your train of steadily drunken rambling. You order cocktails, and watch in amusement as he eyes the colourful little umbrella and the lit sparkler that comes in his glass.

“You can write your name with them,” you let him know with an air of childish excitement, making a mental note to swing by the store and find some for another day as he blinks in vague curiosity, watching as it fizzles out into nothing.

You probably should’ve called it a night when the dance floor started calling to you, so you ordered another round and dragged your new friend along with you to the sea of swaying bodies. He takes to it as much as you expected.

“Come on, Tovar,” you coax with a laugh. “Dance!”

His feet remain planted heavily on the ground, completely unmoving despite the bodies that dance around him. He watches you blankly as you grab at his hands and swing his arms back and forth somewhat in time to the steady beat. 

“This is not dancing,” he states plainly, eyeing the way you shake your hips and duck under his arm in a makeshift twirl.

“Well obviously, you’re not moving!”

It’s during another stupid little twirl that you catch the eyes of a girl, entrapped and clearly uncomfortable with the arms winding their way around her small frame. You drop Tovar’s hands immediately and march towards her, alcohol fuelling your confidence and stamina for confrontation.

“Hey, she said no,” you cut in with a small glare, shoving the arm of thick muscle away from the young red head who tries to pull herself out of the stranger's touch.

She shoots you a thankful glance, taking the outstretched hand of one of her friends deeper in the crowd but she chooses to linger in silent support as the man turns his attention to you.

“Mind your business, bitch,” he spits drunkenly. 

“Oh, charming,” you scoff in his face, brows pulled tightly together as you eye him. “Leave the girls alone and go find your own friends to harass.” 

The blonde meathead scoffs, swaying unsteadily on his feet. With her undefeated sense for feeling when trouble is afoot in her bar, Trish quickly appears from nowhere, stepping up beside you and nodding to the door.

“Think you’ve had enough now. Time to call it a night.”

“No, I’m allowed a drink.”

“Sure you are, but not here. Out.”

“Make me—”

Hands suddenly curl into the shirt covering his broad shoulders from behind, and they tug sharply, the idiot stumbling and swearing as Tovar all but drags him through the crowd to the door. You follow unsteadily behind them, watching in keen entertainment as Tovar gives the man a firm shove through the door and he stumbles out into the street with one final shout.

“Tovar,” you sing in faux disapproval, grinning when he merely turns and gives an innocent shrug.

“What? He said ‘make me’. So I did.”

“Damn, you want a job here?” Trish grins teasingly, crossing her arms and appraising Tovar with keen eyes. “You’re already doing better than the idiot we’ve got now.”

“Alright,” he agrees readily, taking you both by surprise.

“Tovar, you don’t need a job,” you insist, your words maybe coming out with a slight slur as the bar spins in your peripheral. Damn tequila. “I said I can handle it.”

“When could you start?” Trish asks with interest, ignoring your refusal.

“Tomorrow.”

She considers it for a quiet moment before nodding. “Done.”

“What? No. Trish, no. He can’t.”

“Why not?”

“He can’t.”

She snorts, waving away the issue with a flick of well manicured blood red nails. “I’ll pay cash, I don’t care. All I know is your man is scary, and I need scary here. He’ll keep everyone in line frownin’ like that.”

You roll your eyes. “He’s not ‘my man’. He’s my lost little time travelling mercenary and I’m gonna get him home to his horse.”

Trish studies you blankly from head to toe before pursing her glossed lips. “Maybe you should call it a night, too.”

“I’m being serious, I hit him with my car—”

She glances at Tovar who seems genuinely amused watching you stutter and stumble over your words. “Get her home, and I’ll see you tomorrow night. Six pm sharp, don’t be late.”

“Ah loquita, what am I to do with you, hm?” He asks, gently taking you by the arm and leading you out of the bar with a roguish grin. He’s enjoying this far too fucking much.

You frown at him, stumbling over your feet and clutching at his jacket to keep from falling over. He steadies you easily with an arm around your waist, the smile not once wavering from his lips. You poke at it with a half hearted glare, watching as it merely spreads wider.

“Stop laughing at me.”

“Oh, I would never,” he replies in mock seriousness.

“Mm,” you hum, leaning comfortably into him as he leads the way back to the apartment. Thank god he’s got a good memory—you’d be screwed trying to navigate your way home like this. “Tovar, can we get nuggets?”

[barbiegirldream]

Jujutsu Kaisen is a series that feels rushed, incomplete, and hollow in a lot of places. SO many plot points were opened and never closed. Entire arc had next to no conclusion flowing directly into the next. And it reads more like a bizarre book than a manga.

HOWEVER I think a lot of questions about the series can be answered when you reframe the story in your mind. Think back to the start. What does the story begin with? Yuji and Megumi saving each other. The choice Yuji made to swallow the finger to protect Megumi and Megumi asking Gojo to intercede for Yuji is the entire tone of Jujutsu Kaisen.

Let me give some examples:

Q: Why did the merger never happen?

A: Because it had nothing to do with Yuji and Megumi's love story. Yuji set out to teach Sukuna about love and in reuniting with Megumi defeated his dominion of hate. The merger, the culling games, these grand plans for world domination, all these fights... who cares when Yuji is smiling with tears in his eyes and Megumi is reaching back. That was the point. Nothing mattered more than them.

Q: Why did Yuji never speak with Kenjaku?

A: Because Kenjaku had nothing to do with Megumi. If you're confused re-read the cave scene. Yuji dreams of Kenjaku as his mother and dismisses it out of hand because Megumi is in front of him. Because Megumi needs him. If Kenjaku would have been useful to getting Megumi then they would have spoke.

Q: What was wrong with Kenjaku?

A: Kenjaku's motherhood was based in tainted blood. Even their understanding of Yuji was lacking. Thanking a highschool friend who Yuji would later describe to Megumi as essentially a fake friendship. Yuji never had real connection before Megumi. The 'family' Kenjaku could have provided with the 10 wombs is nothing to Yuji when he'd eat all their corpses for Megumi

Q: Why did that scene with Ozawa exist?

A: To establish that Yuji and Megumi have held onto their childhoods and aren't ready to grow up yet. Successfully beating out the cycle of forced adulthood in sorcery that their teachers and classmates were put on. Which was always Gojo's dream.

More of these under the cut. Seriously I'm not joking. It truly was our ItafushiKaisen

Q: Why have flashbacks about Gojo's childhood?

A: To show where Megumi comes from and explain what happens to friends who are not devoted to each other over their principles and ideals. Hidden Inventory comes right before we see Megumi and Yuji sacrifice their morals for each other in Shibuya onwards. And when Toji is brought back to confront Megumi

Q: Why develop Yuta so much then?

A: Yuta is the embodiment of love. He carries the curse of love. His role when he enters JJK proper is to reunite Megumi and Yuji again and again. In that cave, fighting through the culling games with them, make as many back up plans as possible to get Yuji to Megumi

Q: Did Sukuna really need to take Megumi to kill Gojo

A: Who knows. He took Megumi to hurt Yuji and try and destroy Yuji's concept of love. He knew from the moment he was in Yuji's body that Megumi was a weak spot and watching his misery was the goal

Q: Why did Yuta possess Gojo? And why didn't Yuji care?

A: To show again love being the most twisted curse of all one last time. Yuta was completely devoted to his teacher and cousin. Gojo trusted Yuta to protect the student's in his absence. Both of them stuck in the ideal of the strongest. But not Yuji he never cared who was the strongest. He simply cared to get Megumi back. Standing on the ashes of Choso watching Yutajo walk around screaming still for Fushiguro to come back

Q: Why did Nobara come back?

A: Fuck if I know

Q: Why all the glaze and power scaling of other characters

A: To prove it never mattered who could fight and kill who or who belonged in the ranks of best. All that mattered was Yuji getting to save Megumi.

Q: Why did Yuji never learn he was related to Sukuna?

A: Gege barely even knew how he was related to Sukuna

[vivacissimx]

A Game of Thrones' first chapter being Bran I and last chapter being Daenerys X, and those two chapters being in such strong conversation with each other will forever be what sells me on ASOIAF as a series. The set-up is just it. Consider: AGOT begins with an execution, of Gared the Night's Watch deserter who witnessed The Horrors. It's presented as a part of Bran's coming of age, this complex situation which he's now old enough to grapple with. Gared is sympathetic to us as readers (he witnessed The Horrors!!!) but his life is forfeit. He dies by Ice. After, Jon and Robb argue over whether he died brave or afraid. Ned says it doesn't matter—death is necessary, it is part of a larger Cycle which Bran will one day be a part of though he shouldn't enjoy it any more than he denies it... what makes it necessary though? What is this cycle—because if it's only about justice, well, Gared's execution doesn't feel just. Now we have our first true question of the book.

Daenerys X follows a similar format with a sympathetic Mirri Maz Duur having forfeited her life after killing an unborn Rhaego. Why? Well she also witnessed The Horrors. This time in the shape of a Dothraki invasion & the Stallion Who Mounts The World prophecy. She is set to die by burning (ice and fire babyyy). In the moments before, she appears defiant... but when Daenerys says it does not matter how she dies, then fear creeps into MMD's eyes. Again the interplay between bravery & fear. Again the seesaw, the balance. So now we can return to the first question. Why is this necessary?

Because only death can pay for life... and because you should strive for life. There should be hope and yearning for birth, for rebirth. Gared & Mirri have both given up on their own lives due to their fear while Bran asks, and Daenerys answers, that yes, you must reach for life even when life as you know it has ended. It's a coming of age for Daenerys too. When the dragons burst forth their newborn cries are called music—it's a song!! A Song of Ice and Fire. So yeah. Five fucking stars.

[lesbianbanana]

Greek Mythology Characters If They Wrote Books

- If You See A Girl Covered In Blood, She's Having The Time Of Her Life by Artemis

- Gardener's Guide To Common Flowers by Apollo

- A List Of All The Times I Fucked Shit Up by Athena

- Reasons Why You Cannot Be Better Than Me by Aphrodite.

- How To Be Illegal At 2 Hours Old by Hermes

- How To Be The Baddest Bitch Ever by Dionysus

- A Day In The Life Of An Ancient Greek Homicidal Housewife by Hera

- A Day In The Life Of An Ancient Greek Whore Husband by Zeus

- Why You Should Punch Your Brothers In The Face by Demeter

- Vague Dolphin Noises by Poseidon

- When Everyone Hates You But You're Literally Trying You're Best by Ares

- No Comment by Hephaestus

- God Forbid A Girl Have Hobbies by Persephone

- When You're Literally The Only Chill Dude Here by Hades

- Why Family Therapists Should Be A Thing by Hestia

- I Have The Stupidest Boyfriend Ever Prove Me Wrong by Patroclus

- How To Anger Your Great Great Grandfather (Step By Step) by Achilles

- A Series Of Incredibly Stupid Events That Are All My Fault by Odysseus

- Awkward Moment When You're Family Line Is Cursed by The House of Atreus

- I Introduce My Wife To My Mum (End Will Shock You) by Oedipus

- Why You Shouldn't Show Any Interest In Your Dad's Hobbies by Phaethon

- When You Accidentally Started A War But You're Literally Just A Girl by Helen of Sparta Troy

- When You're A Girlboss But Everyone Here Is Misogynistic by Atalanta

- How To Get A Wife Who Actually Likes You by Perseus

- Everyone Hates Me And Honestly Same by Heracles

- How To Raise Homosexuals by Chiron

- When You Try To Help A Pal Out But It Backfires by Asclepius

- Some Girl In The Woods Made Me Transgender by Sipriotes

- Ouch Fuck That Hurts by Actaeon

- I Was Supposed To Break The Cycle But My Husband Kept Eating Our Kids by Rhea

- Why You Should Teach Your Son To Stab People (i.e. Your Husband) by Gaea

- How To Cheat Death (*May Backfire*) by Sisyphus

[mybutcheredtongue]

I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased

Harry Potter timeline Sirius Black x fem!reader

CHAPTER TWO (see full series list here)

"'Sup, Moony."

You step into the tiny cottage Remus Lupin inhabits, smiling at him.

"Hello."

There's a keen scent of lavender in the home. Remus has always kept the place well and tidy. His tidiness has always been something you've envied. However, you know well that there's a small basement locked away beneath the cottage that's considerably less tidy, because werewolf Remus is not as orderly as normal Remus.

It'll be a few weeks until his next transformation. You've always made sure to plan your days together around the cycle. Sometimes you wish people would make their plans around your cycle too, but that's besides the point.

"Ready?" You ask and he nods, smoothing down the front of his sweater, picking at a small ball that had formed on it.

"Yes, let me just grab some change, I'll be right back," he says, skipping off to another room.

You sigh gently, studying a photo on the wall. It was a photo James had took of yourself and Remus, sitting on the common room couch reading a book together, and then promptly getting into an argument because Remus flipped the page too fast for you. You're both in fits of laughter.

Remus returns, coins jingling in the pocket of his trousers and you turn back, smiling. "Where'd you get that photo? It wasn't here last time."

"Found it in one of my old textbooks," he replies.

You give him an amused but skeptical look. "What were you doing looking through your old textbooks?"

"Just a bit of light reading."

You snort, placing your hand on the back of his shoulder blade and gently pushing him through the door. "Light reading."

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

"How are you?" Remus asks as the two of you sit down at a small, circular table in a quaint cafe not far from his cottage.

For such a small cafe, it's quite busy. Small groups chat around the tables, cutlery clinking against plates and the cash register rattling every once in a while.

You shrug your satchel off your shoulder, dropping it to the ground with a gentle thud. "Yeah, I'm alright. How 'bout you?"

A waiter wanders up to your table, flipping open his small notebook and nodding at the two of you. "Now, what can I get for you?"

"A pot of tea for me, please," you say.

"Can you get me a cup too? And, uh, some chocolate."

The waiter nods and hurries off, leaving you to level with Remus' awaiting eyes. He doesn't say anything and you widen yours in question.

"What, Moony? You look like you're dying to say something."

Remus raises his eyebrows at you. He says your name gently. "Talking helps. You know that."

You sigh, drumming your fingers on the table, looking away. "Yeah, alright, fine. Can't say I'm doing all that well."

Remus says nothing, silently imploring you to continue.

"It's just...Harry, he's...it's just hard to...I don't..."

"I know."

You swallow hard. "Spittin' image, the spittin' fucking image of him. I'm almost half expecting Harry to turn around and tell me to 'go shag Sirius'."

You laugh dryly. The humour is lost on you when your mind thinks of Sirius.

Remus chuckles gently, if not with an added tension to his jaw. You're aware of his feelings on the matter. Remus doesn't hold the same confidence in Sirius that you do, he's always stipulated that he would need hard evidence ro prove his innocence before he believes it.

Any mention of Sirius tends to remind Remus of what he considers to be 'bad believing'. He thinks it's bad for your health to not move on.

He's probably right.

"Yes, well, that was one of James's favourite phrases."

"And — and — that troll I mentioned? Yeah, Harry defeated it. Along with the help of two friends, of course..." a smile lifts your face. "He's got a good heart. As good as his parents. I'm glad the Dursleys didn't take that away from him."

The waiter arrives down with your pot of tea, the porcelain clanking as he places it on the table. You smile and utter your thanks and he hurries off again.

"It's just tough, you know? I mean, my own godson, and I can't even talk to him properly?" You say. "I know Dumbledore's right, his judgement is always right, but still..."

"I would feel the exact same if I were in your place. He is, after all, the closest thing we could have to James and Lily." Remus takes a sip from his tea, wincing, before glancing around himself at the muggles sitting around you.

He pulls the cup down beneath the table and secretively pulls out his wand, muttering a quiet spell under his breath to cool it. He sips again, nodding. "I miss them too. The autumn and winter months tend to be the hardest."

There's a small silence between the two of you and you sigh, stretching your arms out behind your head. "Look, enough about all that. How's the job hunt going?"

Remus groans. "Horrendous."

You bring your cup to your mouth, eyeing him over the rim. "Hogwarts is always looking, you know. I'm sure Dumbledore'd be happy to take you on."

He raises his eyebrows unenthusiastically at you. "And what could I possibly teach?"

"Anything! You're a smart bloke, y'know," you reply. "Charms? You've always been great at that!"

Remus shakes his head in amusement.

"I'm being serious, you know! You'd be a great teacher. Ooh, maybe you could even be my assistant!"

Remus chuckles. "That would be torturous."

"Oh, shut up," you scoff, laughing. "Seriously though, consider it. You'd be brilliant. And I'd actually have someone my own age at work."

"It can't be that bad."

"It is! Severus is the only one, and we both know how much he hates me," you tell him. "I mean, everyone's lovely and all, and I do occasionally have tea with McGonagall, but she was my teacher! Can't fully relax around her, if I'm honest. And Dumbledore can be a bit barmy at times."

"Barmy?"

"Just a bit. Tends to get a bit distracted during conversations."

Remus just laughs, and you feel certain worries lift from your shoulders.

He's right.

Talking does help.

✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

Later, you and Remus part ways. He walks down the road towards his cottage and you spin on your heel, checking the street before Disapparating.

You land in an alleyway, stumbling on your feet before steadying yourself. You wince, trying not to focus on the turning of your stomach. You breathe in, before stepping out and onto a street in London. In front of you is the window to an abandoned department store. The sign above reads 'Purge & Dowse Ltd', though the paint is flaking and faded.

You sidle up to the ugliest mannequin there, wearing a wretched green pinafore dress, and whisper, "I'm here to visit the Longbottoms."

You watch as the mannequin nods and beckons you forward. You glance around to make sure the coast is clear before stepping through the glass.

You breathe in the clinically clean air of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies, watching as nurses and visitors bustle about. It's not long before you've made your way up to the Janus Thickey Ward for spell damage and are seating yourself down on a rickety stool between Alice and Frank Longbottom.

You sigh, gently taking Alice's hand in yours. "Hello, lovely."

Alice's face is no longer the healthy, bright face you used to know. It's now sallow and sunken, dark bags dragging under her eyes. Her clipped hair, which you remember her cutting during the war to keep it low-maintenance, is missing tufts in certain spots and clearly hasn't been cut in a while.

She rises at the sound of your voice, sitting up in her bed and looking about in confusion. She turns her eyes to you, but she's not really looking at you. It feels like she's looking through you, unfocused.

"How are you today?"

Alice blinks before nodding slowly a few seconds later, a blank expression on her face.

"Brilliant."

This is often how your 'conversations' with Alice go. She doesn't know what's going on at all. It's a cruel living.

Still, it feels good to visit. Part of you feels that if you keep returning to these two, they might gain some of their former sanity and health.

"Well, I'm good. Your young lad has started at Hogwarts, though I'm sure Augusta's told you that already." You turn your head to Frank, who is also sitting up but dreamily staring off at a potted plant in the far corner of the room. "Did you hear that, Frank? Neville has started at Hogwarts."

Frank blinks at you, then looks back at the potted plant, muttering something incomprehensible to himself.

"Frank?"

"N...Ne — vuh," Alice utters slowly with great effort.

You turn and smile encouragingly at her. "Nev, yes. Little Neville. Such a sweet boy, you two. You'd be so proud of him, being placed in Gryffindor! He's clearly as brave as you two!"

Silence. You look down at Alice's hand in yours, and gently pat the top lovingly.

"I talked to Remus today. We both miss you very much."

Still no response. Alice has now fixated on your hands and you can practically see the cogs slowly turning in her mind as she works to...think.

You've read plenty of articles on the Cruciatus Curse, looking for anything that might help your friends, but nothing ever comes up. You have found that some healers believe that the state that most victims end up in, the one that Alice and Frank are currently in, is like dreaming. They feel like they're in a dream. Not entirely in control of anything, especially their mind.

A healer walks up to Alice, a potion bottle in her hand, full of vile-looking yellow liquid. She notices you and gives you a sympathetic smile.

"Lovely to see you, professor!" She greets brightly and you smile in response. She turns to Alice, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Have you seen your visitor, Alice? Isn't it nice to get visitors?"

Alice doesn't say anything.

You sigh, stepping off the rickety stool and sliding your satchel up over your shoulder again. "I'll get going, Alice," you say to her. You nod at her husband, "Frank. Can't be missing dinner."

"Here, drink this, Alice," the healer says softly and raises the bottle to Alice's lips, who thankfully parts her lips without objection and the healer tips the contents down her throat. She turns to you. "Thank you for visiting. It may not look it, but it does wonders for them."

You nod in understanding. "I hope so. Thank you for taking care of them so well. I'm sure I'll be 'round again soon enough."

She smiles and you take your leave, giving Alice and Frank one last departing look as you exit the ward.

The healer is giving Frank the same potion and Alice has already fallen asleep and you bite your lip, sighing. At least she's asleep now.

Peaceful.

🤧

✧*⁠。✧*⁠。

->-> read chapter three here!

→ all kinds of interaction appreciated ♡

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 2/11/2025

the bon mot slot goes to the Witcher comics, bc after i inhaled all of the 2014-present series i realized they scratch the same sad goth detective itch batman does

oops! all books!

adding another axis to the "depressive cycles" graph, where x is "how many minutes of mother mother have i listened to in the past two weeks" and y is "how many books have i read and bounced off in the past two weeks" and brother we're at the extreme upper right hand corner

what was supposed to be last week's gay and/or lesbian romance and/or erotica

Desire by Starlight, by Radclyffe, is a 261p softcover published in 2010 by Bold Strokes Books. two unrelated facts about this physical object: VERY glossy cover, and smells faintly of mildew despite having a perfect text block with no water damage. radclyffe has written over a hundred books and this is somewhere in the middle. this is sitting at a solid 4 on goodreads with some complaints that she tends to be a little formulaic. i am going to be very honest and say that when i read this two weeks ago, i did not take very good notes bc i didn't love this one. the structure and pacing were mostly fine and there were only a few strange phrases in the sex scenes, i simply did not find it particularly memorable. we have for sure read worse during this project.

i wish the local love interest did not go by Gard, short for Gardner. is it a stupid old money new york name? sure. is it hard to take the book seriously? yes.

i also found it amusing that radclyffe does not follow her own novel-writing rule outlined in this very meta novel: rarely if ever does a scene open close to the heart of a chapter.

the secret our dear gard is hiding kind of fizzles out in the literal last ten pages. i think she should have had a better or more interesting secret instead of one that could be comfortably resolved through a singular therapy session. i also feel that this teetered on will-they-won't-they-let-each-other-through-a-hardened-outer-shell a little bit too long, and the breakthrough was perhaps not as cathartic as i would have liked. this excerpt, nearly halfway through the book, they are still not together. while it's very funny to watch them seethe in poorly concealed jealousy, i am tapping my watch. do something.

i cannot immediately find the weird wording that threw me a little during the sex scenes. the sex scenes are kind of widely scattered.

i think the thing that annoys me most about this book is that there's no real benefit for either of them in this relationship. jenna has broken down from not eating or sleeping well on a national book tour, not because she's psychically suffering from not letting see her feelings she keeps in a tightly locked box. there's no real benefit for gard either, who is lonely but not cripplingly so. it starts off as a casual-only thing and then both of them (and me) are startled they catch real feelings.

there are some gestures made toward It's Nice To Have Another Woman Around In Case of Physical Injuries Due To Mishap but i would have loved to see more of how gard was won over by being taken care of. gard princess carries jenna into her vet clinic bc of a fucked up ankle and jenna is annoyed, flustered, and doubly annoyed she's flustered.

i think this one was so forgettable bc i genuinely had trouble remembering what the conflict (if any) was. both of them are stable adults with real jobs and other friends. inheriting a farm in vermont doesn't really add any new or exciting problems for either of them. neither of them are very spontaneous and neither can manic pixie dream girl the other out of her shell, and when they finally do emotionally let their walls down it doesn't feel very organic.

the like technical putting words one after another is there, this is her zillionth book and everyone has dialogue that sounds like things real people would say out loud with their mouths and everyone's physical actions map onto my real-world understanding of how bodies in 3D space work. this one did not grab me.

-

this week's gay and/or lesbian romance and/or erotica

title drops in this book: 3.

Heart on Fire is a 167p softcover published in 1996 by our old friend Naiad Press. a slightly water-damaged paperback i felt okay dragging down to the gulf when i was dragged down to the gulf last weekend for my health. this was Diana Simmonds' first solo book and first fiction book, and a lot of older lesbians seem to have a great deal of fondness for it. while i was trying to find any press or interviews, most of the hits were from other lesbian authors citing her as an inspiration. naiad really banked a lot on it being the hit novel of their publishing season and were sure it would eclipse their previous bestseller from nearly a decade ago, Katherine Forrest's Curious Wine. i don't own a paper copy but have placed a libby hold so we will make a detour from physical books in the near future.

overall, a rare book where the third act breakup does actually make a lot of sense: being the partner of a globetrotting traveling musician would put a strain on any relationship whether you choose to stay on the road or wait at home. however! it really did stick the landing! and for that i can forgive it a great deal! the sort of not quite reality of their respective third act depression sojourns and then the incredibly sensory descriptions of the finale concert…very good. very nineties movie about a musician ending if that makes any sense.

while i think the structure is fine, i think the actual craft of the narrative is more variable. we'll go into the style in the next paragraph, but part of the dedication goes "to CCC, without whom it would be full of people thinking to themselves." i wish CCC had dialed their feedback back a little bc i would have loved some more interiority, particularly from jody. i must commend our stuck-in-one-place half of the couple, grace, who makes SUCH fascinating decisions. the traveling musician jody looks like she could be the sister of her abusive ex-husband, grace's brief rebound from jody is her goddamn college advisor… bonkers. what ARE you doing???

stylistically, it feels like sitting on the patio of a lesbian bar for three hours and listening to a friend telling you a very long story about how two absent friends you don't know got together with a lot of elaborations and asides. i occasionally found this style tiresome. there are some charming turns of phrase, like "She wrote the address of the roadhouse on the package, sealed it with a kiss, said "What the hell," to neutralize the sentimental gesture, and dropped it into the mailbox." i also cackled out loud at "I don't know, I-- I really really want you, so much, and I am not very good at being cool about it." did nearly tear up at this paragraph:

some things have aged a little strangely since 1996. grace is briefly forcibly kissed by a very drunk bandmate before jody rescues her, but there are further instances of someone not immediately stopping a kiss or an embrace or what have you when someone else says no, that i think could not be written in a modern day romance novel. there are some very frank discussions of marital abuse right after a literally soul-healing sex scene.

this is a book that could never be rewritten as a straight romance with light serial numbers filed off. no one is in physical danger just because they're gay, but there's a lot of internal homophobia and readjustment on grace's part, and overall people are fairly accepting in theory but not always in practice. jody outs herself to the aussie press, and early on/right after her bus breaks down, grace and her mother discuss this news and her mother tells her off for being prejudiced, but connives to throw them together to distract grace from her recent divorce. her mother is then is very sad about the thought of her daughter who would have a very difficult life as a publicly out lesbian, and I can’t really blame her, but it’s such a switch from the vehement Fix Your Heart Or Die!!! discussion in the second chapter. there are some fraught familial reactions to grace's bisexuality-- her mom basically bullies her dad into remembering he loves his daughter-- but they all do come around.

this was fine and a good beach read, i'm not sure that i'll ever reread it. almost forgot about the sex. i think the current fashion for queer romance novels is not quite as purple, but the whole book is like this and i must respect an author's full commitment in this manner. here are some sex examples on non-consecutive pages.

-

did not finish, or finished with severe annoyance

i have become a libby power user in my old age bc texas is remarkably free with its library cards. i don't THINK i'm meant to have five of them but there seems to be no law against it and no one's told me to fuck off? this is good bc i have (at the moment) 44 holds and 56 "notify me if any of my libraries purchase this book" books tagged.

the flipside of being willing to give anything vaguely intriguing a try is that most books aren't very good or they aren't quite what i want. i will DNF anything, anytime, for no good reason. i know that statistically most novels are debut novels but i am so fucking tired of reading debut novels.

Hammajang Luck, by Makana Yamamoto, debut novel published last month. comps include ocean's 8, blade runner, and gideon the ninth. much as i love a heist novel, a heist is extremely ambitious for a debut and i didn't quite vibe with the style. i DNF'd at around the end of chapter seven, it has a very strange issue where we get from location to location pretty snappily but overexplain setting and clothing too much within individual scenes. i think it wants to be a screenplay a little too bad. a great deal of the dialogue is hawaiian pidgin (what the author grew up speaking). very much a me problem, i didn't have any experience with this language coming into this book and it was hard to turn off the kneejerk "this is racist and making fun of black people" response i had. again, very much a me problem.

Yamamoto uses Hawaiian pidgin—“an amalgamation of Hawaiian, English, Japanese, Chinese and Portuguese”—in much of the novel’s dialogue, particularly between Edie and their crew members. It is the “primary language” spoken on Kepler and speaks to the kinship between the characters. However, the decision to include pidgin occurred by happenstance. When writing the first line of dialogue between Edie and Cy, fellow crew member and friend, “it just came out in pidgin spontaneously”. Yamamoto “tried to rewrite it in standard English”, but it “sounded wrong”. Notably, the pidgin and Hawaiian words in the novel are not italicised or translated, nor does the novel include a glossary of terms. Yamamoto felt that these practices were “othering” and so asks the reader to do the work.

i think this is a reasonable thing to ask a reader, and i think i might have to take a crack at it some other time.

The Rainfall Market, by You Yeong-Gwang, a debut novel from last year freshly translated from Korean. a young woman wins a lottery ticket to enter the Rainfall Market on the first day of the rainy season, where she can completely change her life. DNF at two chapters. this seems to be generally marketed as general fiction (which is what my library had it under) but it feels very middle-grade, both as far as sentence structure and vocabulary and the general maturity-- the protagonist is about to graduate high school but her concerns and goals feel more like she's about twelve. not sure if it's an unfortunate series of translation and marketing decisions? rough!

Water Moon, by Samantha Sotto Yambao, the author's fifth book and published last month. the premise of this book is so charming: liminal-space pawnshop where you can exchange your regrets for tea, woman taking this family business over from her father, physicist who stumbles in, oh no! the physicist is playing the scully to her mulder but does not have a physicist Vibe. i think he’s too personable and not tiresome and mansplainy enough to be a particle physicist. he's too nice. she falls in love with him near-instantly. DNF partly because i have never met a particle physicist i could stand to be around for more than fifteen minutes, mostly a DNF bc at about a quarter of the way through this very slow to start book, when the girl turned to the boy after they fell through a pond into a perfect recreation of a edo-era tokyo street and said "this is the other world, you can call it isekai" i did not throw my elderly ailing phone across the room and i did not get up and stomp around bc phil was on my lap but i did vehemently return the library ebook thirteen days early.

Lucky Red, Claudia Cravens, a debut novel published summer 2023. this thoroughly fucking annoyed me. published by the literary group that also ran...basically a budget MFA? they called it a "novel generator in 12 months", they have since closed, and i cannot find how much AI was involved. i do not think this book was marketed well:

A thrilling, raucous, and gloriously queer debut about a scrappy orphan bent on making her own luck in the American West—and finding friendship, romance, and her true calling along the way, now in paperback.

this book is about an older teen in 1877 dodge city who turns to survival sex work. terrible thing after terrible thing happens to this girl whenever she makes a connection outside living just in her own head and for what? it felt like the author was setting up to deliver some moral lesson or theme other than "never question your boss" but never quite followed through. it felt like the author was punishing the protagonist for being a whore even though that’s the book the author chose to write and the author can't quite decide if it's empowering or not. again, it's very strange to read a book where the protagonist is punished for almost every decision she makes and very few parts of sex work are idealized, but then she turns to the camera and reassures the reader with a chipper "but it wasn't all bad!". i wish the protagonist got to mature or grow as a character a little more. i think this could have used more time in the oven and an ending that doesn't feel like a very ill-earned end of every american western ever. thank fucking god this is a real ensemble cast and not found family or i would be much more impatient with this book than i already am.

good at getting me to finish a book bc it's very effective at hustling you from chapter to chapter. great technical skill on that front. bad at any sort of emotional throughline.

things i DNF'd after less than two chapters

Thornfruit by Felicia Davin, published in 2018 and her seventh or eighth book. i am a little annoyed bc this was on hold for over two months but i really do appreciate the AO3-style list of tags and warnings in the front bc now i know there is stuff in this book that is not for me!

Passing Strange, by Ellen Klages, a 2017 novella and her...twentieth? work. a prolific woman. urban fantasy gay historical fiction of 1940s magical san francisco. while i do love a magical painting, i did not have it in me this week to read about a woman struggling with her legacy in the face of a terminal diagnosis.

Nevernight, Jay Kristoff, 2016 first book of a trilogy and his third trilogy overall. he keeps fucking getting me with fun vampire premises but he's very much in the same bucket as paolo bacigalupi in my brain. far more brutal and visceral things happen than you really are prepared for. do not love an opening chapter with disassociation to a past sexual assault in the middle of an assassination, as movie-crisp as the match shot transitions from present day to disassociation were.

plus a nice half dozen varied romances im not going to individually name, bc the last time i seriously used the "tag for later" feature in libby was the summer of 2019 and my tastes have changed. for example i rarely put myself through heterosexual vampire romance books these days.

-

yeah these were all right

Red Harvest, by Dashiell Hammett, his first full novel in 1929 after literally dozens of shorts and novellas. this detective noir was like watching a car crash. brutal little book. im positive this is not the earliest example of turning both ends of a town against the middle for your own profit, but it was the one cited for yojimbo so its the one that gets brought up a lot. i think the cast is slightly too large for what hammett is trying to do. sometimes reading noir as something woman-shaped feels like an elaborate act of self-harm.

Unnatural Magic, by CM Waggoner, a debut novel from late 2019. thoroughly charmed by this one! one of the most well thought out country/species/religion/immigration systems and how any and all of those can impact any one specific wizard’s magic. it's like a beautiful clockwork orrery ticking along in the background. very prachett-esque approach to troll gender. the baddie is Not doing good things but the ultimate motivations are really understandable! I get why that happened even if it was a really bad reaction! a line i keep turning over in my head is "worry like a third person in the room." i have put their second book on hold on the strength of this one.

The Firebird’s Tale, Anya Ow, a debut novel from 2016. charming retelling of the fairytale element of a royal having to marry the one who makes him smile. the lead up to and the third act separation itself were kind of stupid, and felt like it wanted to be a duology but wrapped up very fast. has a lot of thoughts about choice and putting the end of things to bed quietly and with dignity on your own terms. also has a lot of thoughts about meanings of stories. the non-magical and non-immortal half of the couple is a possessive prince who falls so hard so fast and is mad about it. they fuck so many times while thinking "well surely this doesn’t mean anything, we're just married for the convenience". they're both so dryly exasperated.

-

there's an additional hardboiled noir that was fun but i have nothing particular to say about, and a stack of physical comics from a new library that i mostly hated, but we are almost at the image limit and it is 1030 PM. i can't see why we wouldn't be back to the usual format next week but no promises bc there are no rules

[reioka-reads]

I bet you thought this blog was dead. I am resurrecting it for one of my 2025 resolutions. We'll see how long I keep up with it lol.

Title: A Good Girl's Guide to Murder

Author: Holly Jackson

Status: Keep

Series Continue: Yes

Damn. I understand how this book became an immediate best seller and got a Netflix adaption soon after. I almost felt like I had to make a murder board to keep up with everything! I almost couldn't put it down, I was hooked! I spent the last third of the book reading on my stomach, and then there was a twist so shocking in the last sixty pages that I had to sit up straight. My heart was pounding. I hope the show is even half as good!

The pacing of this book was so incredible, I didn't even realize it was picking up speed until I was frantically turning pages. It starts off slow, just feeling out the characters, learning about the crime and the families affected by it, considering suspects. It feels like she's just doing a school project (because she is). I cannot even begin to tell you when it stopped being a school project and became a desperate mission for the truth. I kept cycling through the suspect list with each new piece of evidence, trying to see if I could figure it out before Pippa. (I did, by like a page.) I felt genuine dread and fear for Pippa as she was threatened by the killer. I kept waffling between: She's so smart! 🥰 and She's so stupid! 😱 But this can be explained by the fact that she is seventeen years old.

I'm going to borrow the next two books from my friend after I finish a couple others she wants me to read and babes! I am SO FUCKING EXCITED I forget how much I love thriller novels!!!!!!!!!!!

[nightcolorz]

Something I can't stop thinking about when it comes to book vs show is that in the book Louis doesn't really blame Armand for Claudia's death, sure he killed her but he was just upholding The Rules™

The Rules™ say a vampire shouldn't kill their maker and it was Claudia's idea to kill Lestat

The Rules™ say children shouldn't be made vampires and Claudia was made very young

Therefore according to The Rules™ Claudia should die

Armand was just following The Rules™ (and the specific kind of trauma he has doesn't allow him to even consider bending The Rules™ even for someone who wasn't aware of them, if anything Claudia's ignorance is another reason she has to die, someone who is ignorant of The Rules ™ will sure put them all in danger)

So Book Louis doesn't hate Armand, but he does hate The Rules™

The Rules™ cost him Claudia, The Rules™ are awful and unjust, The Rules™ just suck

So when he finds Daniel and the opportunity to tell his story, her story, to have it all published, that's just the opportunity he was looking for to get back at The Rules™

He can't bring Claudia back to life but he can expose all vampires and The Rules™ which say he shouldn't can go to hell

So it's a bit disappointing to me that the show has decided to remove those layers of complexity and made Louis blame Armand instead and simplified Armand's reasons to kill Claudia too

(Also what are Louis reasons to tell the story in this version?)

I was expecting Armand to double down on his reasoning for doing it (she had to die, I was just the executor not the reason she had to die, she wasn't going to make it anyway, all vampires made that young go crazy and are a risk that can expose us all, she would have killed herself soon anyway, she broke The Rules™) I thought that was what Armand's "I could not prevent it" was getting to and was disappointed when he showed to be apologetic to Louis instead

ooooo yes this is so interesting I totally agree with this. In the books Armand and Louis make it very clear that Claudia’s death was the consequence of an abusive fucked up institution (vampirism) that Louis and Armand r bound to + victims of, and the show def misses that. What I like about the vampire chronicles is how vampirism is portrayed as this abusive cycle in a way that binds all characters to the same loops of inescapable abusive patterns, and what’s interesting about that also is how all the characters r aware of this and forgiving of each other in ways humans would never be bcus they know “vampirism just does that to u”. It’s such a unique premise, and it’s unfortunate that the show seems uninterested i. exploring the “vampire culture” aspects of Anne rice world that I’ve always really loved. Sometimes I get the impression that they’d rather make the characters have more generic human responses to their problems so that it can appeal to a broader audience (which is disappointing for a tv show adaptation of a book series that is iconic for how it’s shaped what being a vampire is in pop culture)

[thesummerstorms]

Spoiler warning if you haven't finished the Trials of Apollo, especially the last book, Tower of Nero.

I still don't understand why people complain about the Trials of Apollo books.

Yeah, Apollo is kind of insufferable in the first few chapters, but his character development, learning to see the world through mortal eye and actually consider the consequences of his actions, is fucking amazing, especially given how much we all complain about the Gods in this fandom.

A god made flesh, forced to confront his own sins?

The carelessness that lead to the death of Hyacinth, the self-absorption that destroyed Daphne, the pride that cursed Cassandra, the ruthlessness that slaughtered the children of Niobe, the callousness that allowed him to ignore his lover Commodus's complete lack of regard for others when it amused him and then murder Commodus with his own hands, the cruelty that lead him to torment Harpocrates, they all come back to bite Apollo in the ass. And it's only by being made powerless that he can come to realize how terrible his power made him.

Being mortal makes him finally see himself clearly. He can only understand his own selfishness once his godhood is out of the way.

And the closer we come to his redemption, to his ascent, the more hints we get about his relationship with Zeus, who is, frankly, the worst of the gods as well as the most powerful. And we get so many hints that when it comes down to it, Zeus himself is an abusive father, like his father Kronos before him. It's literally the same familiar cycle writ large across eons and pantheons and human destinies. All he selfishness and abuse Apollo and his siblings have dealt out, they learned from their father.

And in the end, Apollo wins his ascension, only to no longer want it. Godhood is no longer a reward but a burden. He time with the demigods has left him an outsider among the Olympians, and the thing is, he doesn't want to take it back.

Tower of Nero just has so. many. good. lines!

Trials of Apollo takes all the things the reader has been left to question since those first pages seeing Percy and Luke grappling with their immortal families and their roles as humans in the realm of the Gods and weaves them to a final conclusion.

Tell me that isn't bad ass, especially for the themes of a middle grade series.

[1800naveen]

Someone save me🙏🏾

The ballad of Tam Lin was ruined by Sarah J Maas and sadly, this beautiful love story had to pay the price of falling into the hands of an overrated author.

If you were to look up a video or Tik Tok explaining the ballad, there's a mf going "Acotar?" NO, YOU FUCKING DIP SHIT.

And the women who insult Tamlin's name like are you serious? GROWN WOMEN doing childish things like this. You're not in elementary anymore. You're not in middle school anymore.

You're an adult woman with bills and taxes to pay, a job to go to, a husband to deal with, and probably some bummy kids to drop off or put down for a nap.

But here you are. Sitting on your miserable ass, going online, and making jokes and comments about a FICTIONAL CHARACTER and calling them a menstrual product. And some have the audacity to call themselves a feminist. Are you saying there's something wrong with period cycles? Is that why you're insulting a character by calling them that?

I can't really talk though because I do the same towards the inner circle but I'm only a teen, my life hasn't even officially started. Y'all got more free will than I do and you're going to use it like this? You can do better.

Your opinion is not valid or important if you seriously call Tamlin that. I don't care if you like him or not, it's still a immature thing to call someone.

Put down the phone, go outside, and be one with nature. And perhaps when you're ready, you can come back with your big girl pants on. Hopefully, you're mature enough not to call someone "tampon" anymore but this is the Acotar fandom, maturity is a rare thing to be found in a group filled with halfwitted jackasses. Correction: GROWN halfwitted jackasses. (Coming from someone acts like a dumbass most of the time)

There's no need to do all of this. Just say you hate Tamlin and move on, simple as that. Go back to dick riding that racially ambiguous dictator (high lord that happens to leave the women and children of his two other regions to suffer at the hands of men) you call a "book boyfriend".

I'll be here ranting, criticizing, bitching, and complaining about this series and how sjm brings ruination to anything she touches.

(I don't wish to type in English so enjoy this Arabic rant)

أخذ الله أرواحكم ورزقني الله الصبر. سارة، ما خطبكِ يا سارة، ما خطبكِ أنتِ وإضافة العبودية إلى كل قصصكِ؟ والأيديولوجيات الصهيونية أيضًا مع مزيج من الجنيات الفاشية؟ عزيزتي، أنت ذاهبة في رحلة باتجاه واحد إلى الجحيم.

(Used translate on the Arabic part since I ain't fluent but just put it in Arabic to English, it means the same thing. Kinda. I recommend this link.)

When will she pay for her crimes?