#and she HATES catcher in the rye

[just-rogi]

I told my friend I thought song of Achilles was not a great book (not bad just 3 stars and overhyped) because the treatment of the female characters to prop up the white male gay protags was not the best and that Circe was WAY better in terms of developing compelling characters with motivations beyond bottoming for a blond twunk- we spent an hour arguing in depth she ripped me apart and said I was incredibly biased and that it’s insufferable to talk about media with me. Turns out she never even read it she just wanted to argue with me to get me engaged and worked up about something bc I’ve been a shell for weeks and had another doctors appointment today where I got news I wasn’t hoping for. This is the happiest I’ve been since I got sick, she even drove me to the library to pick out more books together after my appointment just so she could see me be a person again.

[clouds-of-wings]

I hated visiting Instagram. It's the corniest place on the internet. I'm not kidding. You've never seen a bigger group of phonies in your entire life. There was this girl called Chiara Ferragni who had about a million posts about how much she loved Nespresso. That just killed me. It really did. Her followers in the comments were kicking their heads off about how gorgeous and talented she was. People who follow influencers always do that. Act like they're great friends or something and just the swellest people you can imagine. I sort of hated old Chiara for her phony smile and twenty thousand emojis and the way she acted like Nespresso was just the grandest thing in the world. Grand. I hate that word. What kills me is that she got a tidy paycheck for writing those snobby, phony posts. She really did! Strictly commercial. But her followers slobbered all over her. For Chrissake.

(J.D. Salinger - The Catcher in the Rye, new and revised edition with previously missing chapters, page 420)

[snortoborto]

Starlight Glimmer smoking a cigarette and reading The Catcher in the Rye

[laurapetrie]

LITERARY LOVE: J.D. SALINGER & OONA O'NEILL

Bright, pretty and spoiled, and cute as hell. I’m crazy about her. - J.D. SALINGER, 1941 He was out of his mind with adoration for this woman. - HARVEY JASON She was the love of his life, the one woman whom he loved more than any other. He never recovered. - PAUL ALEXANDER It was a tremendous love story. They truly loved each other. - LEILA HADLEY LUCE Oona was the movie always in his mind. - DAVID SHIELDS Your U.S. Army hero kisses you on the cheek, on your right eye, on your left ear and then feverishly travels down to your neck. Little Oona, you save my life several times a day and YOU DON'T HAVE ANY IDEA ABOUT IT. - MANHATTAN'S BABE I would marry Oona tomorrow if she would have me. - J.D. SALINGER

[angelfic]

— CALM AFTER THE STORM

pairing: remus lupin x reader

summary: the 4 times you hate each other, and the one time you don’t. alternatively, remus lupin is a pain in your arse and yours alone.

warnings: enemies to lovers, swearing, kissing, mention of blood and wounds, some bad writing as always which is unedited

author’s note: just a little e2l fic for my own indulgence as its my fave trope and its criminal how i barely have any e2l fics… also haven’t written anything in ages soooo enjoy!

when he just has to be controversial

The sun was beaming, colourful rays reflecting over your book through the stained-glass windows of the Gryffindor common room as you lounged on the sofa with your head in Lily’s lap. You were barely paying attention to the chatter of your friends around you, choosing to focus on your copy of ‘The Catcher in the Rye’ and Marlene’s soft guitar playing. The lazy afternoon is a welcome break from the increasingly stressful N.E.W.T lessons that have had you all so exhausted, you’re not sure if Peter is asleep or dead from his curled-up position on the rug.

You don’t even realise someone is saying your name until Marlene tickles the sole of your socked foot with her guitar pick, making you yelp and draw your legs in from where they were previously tucked in between Marlene and her guitar.

“What was that for?” you grumble, nudging her arm with your foot.

Marlene smirks, nodding over to James. “He told me to get your attention. Didn’t specify how.”

You roll your eyes and turn on your side to face the boy in question, his grin unfaltering as he multitasks polishing the handle of his broomstick and talking to you. “Not my fault you’re dead to the world when you’re reading,” he says, matter-of-fact, continuing when you raise your eyebrows in impatience. “I was just wondering how you could look so interested in that book. Remus said he’d do my homework for a month if I finished it the other day and I couldn’t get past five arse-numbingly dull pages.”

You scoff, adjusting your position again to face Remus as well. “And why was Remus betting you to read my book, exactly?”

“It was my copy,” Remus replies, scribbling away on his parchment, cross legged on his chair, to undoubtedly finish the Potions essay that Slughorn had set yesterday. You’re transfixed on the way his hand is moving across the page for a second, unable to fathom how someone can have such messy handwriting. You aren’t surprised in the slightest that the next words coming out of his mouth are ones you disagree with. “I wanted to see how long he lasted reading the slowest-paced book in the world.”

You abruptly sit up at this, shutting your book and forgetting plans of relaxation.

“Hey, watch it!” Lily exclaims, lifting the bottle of black polish she’s using to paint Sirius’ nails from its balanced position on her thigh to avoid you spilling it all over her white top. “If you’re about to argue, please refrain from throwing things until after I’ve done the second coat of nail polish.”

You pointedly ignore this and narrow your eyes at Remus who, infuriatingly, still hasn’t lifted his head from his essay. “I’m surprised you found it hard to read such a slow book. Thought that’d be perfect for you.”

“Look what you’ve started, Prongs,” Sirius sighs, examining his nails.

Seeing the corners of Remus’ lips pull up into a slight smile at your comment just spurs you on in defence of the book you were previously enjoying. “Besides, it’s about a real-life teenager with real-life struggles, not The Hobbit on his latest adventure.”

“Who’s Hobbit?” James mumbles, scratching his head in confusion as Marlene just shrugs, equally oblivious.

“It’s overrated,” Remus insists, finally setting down his quill to look at you. The amused expression still hasn’t left his face and you make a noise halfway between a scoff and a high-pitched squeal of indignance. “Even James agrees.”

“Oh, and James’ opinion on literature is the standard now?” You raise a brow, tutting when James starts to protest. “The only book James has finished in the last six years was Quidditch Through the Ages.”

The way James slowly slides the aforementioned book under one of the sofa cushions doesn’t go unnoticed by anyone. Sirius starts snickering, much to Lily’s annoyance as she tries to control his hand. “She got you there, in fairness, mate.”

Sirius’ chortling seems to stir Peter from his sleep and he opens one eye to peer at you. Seeming to catch sight of your irritated expression, he frowns. “Are these two arguing like an old married couple again?”

“Merlin help us if these two ever decide to get married,” Marlene utters under her breath, bent over her guitar and avoiding the weight of your glare.

“Yeah, he wishes,” you grumble, shuffling around on the sofa to get back into a comfortable position with your book. Remus’ smile has only widened in response and he seems to enjoy your discomfort as you overcompensate for showing your annoyance by wriggling about.

“I dream about it every night,” Remus replies, dryly and Peter giggles below you before turning over to sleep again.  

You overcompensate a little too much by moving around, because Lily huffs from beside you and starts scrambling around for a tissue. “What did I say about the second coat?”

“I didn’t throw anything this time!”

2. when he won’t let you give someone a black eye

Defence Against the Dark Arts is your favourite N.E.W.T subject for a lot of reasons. You enjoy the lesson content, it’ll be useful in future years, and it’s the one lesson you share with every single one of your friends.

You’ve gotten used to James and Sirius messing around while Professor Marigold recites fact after fact about spells and creatures and wizards of dark nature. Its like soothing background noise to you and your classmates who all concentrate in silence most of the time.

Which is why your quill stops on your page and leaves a growing ink blot when you hear snickering and whispers from the other side of the classroom rather than from in front of you where the marauders sit in a line.

The scoffs of disgust coming from Snape and Mulciber are loud enough to attract the attention of the rest of the students and even the teacher, who eventually sets down her piece of chalk in the middle of talking about Wolfsbane potion with an impatient sigh.

“Is there some sort of pressing issue that can’t wait until after class to discuss, boys?” Professor Marigold asks with a tone of ire that would impress Professor McGonagall. “Even Black and Potter have decided to give it a rest today.”

She’s not wrong, you think, noting how they’ve been less disruptive than usual for this lesson, probably tired out from setting each other’s robes on fire in Charms the hour before.

“The pressing issue is werewolves,” Snape mutters quietly, as though he doesn’t want to make a big issue but can’t stop himself from speaking up. “We should be learning more about how to kill them and less about the price of potion ingredients.”

Lily gasps from beside you and Sirius and James tense up at his words. Remus doesn’t lift his head, but you absently notice how his grip tightens around his quill when Peter nervously turns to him. Peter isn’t one for conflict and he’s always been nervous around this particular group of Slytherins, so you’re not surprised he’s anxious.

“Werewolves are still people, you can’t just go around killing them!” you find your mouth moving on its own, before your brain can catch up. When Snape turns to direct his scowl at you, its matched by your own as well as Lily’s disappointed frown. “They didn’t ask to be werewolves, they physically can’t help it! How would you feel if people wanted to kill you for not being able to control being such an arse.”

“Miss Y/L/N,” Professor Marigold warns, setting her stern eyes on you. You’re not one for disrupting lessons or getting into trouble, so when Remus turns around to look at you with a raised eyebrow, your cheeks start to warm and you stubbornly don’t look his way again.

Snape ignores her to continue glaring at you. “I don’t have the capacity to kill people in a feral rage now, do I?” His gaze flits from you to Lily and Marlene and then lingers on the boys. “Of course, you’re defending werewolves. It’s no surprise considering who you choose to associate yourself with.”

“Mr Snape.”

“You have no need to fly into a feral rage to kill people,” you reply, voice steadily rising in volume. Sirius and James turn their heads back and forth like they’re watching a tennis match and you know the only reason they haven’t piped up to agree with you is because they’re too entertained watching the way you’re about to jump out of your seat to pounce on Snape. “All you need to do is show someone your face for them to die of fright–”

“ENOUGH!” Professor Marigold’s booming voice cuts through the laughter of everyone on the Gryffindor side of the classroom and when you turn to look at her, you see even Remus’ shoulders are shaking with silent laughter. You’re not sure why this pleases you, but it doesn’t last long enough for you to figure it out before Marigold waves her wand in the direction of the door and sends it flying open. “Both of you will wait for me outside the classroom until the lesson has finished so I can discuss your appalling behaviour.”

You gape at her for a second, before relenting and grabbing your bag, not wanting to argue with her authority. Your friends have different ideas.

“That’s not fair!” Marlene exclaims, standing up in protest. “She didn’t even do anything wrong.”

“Yeah,” James agrees, also standing up. “Snape’s the one who was being an annoying pri–”

“Sit down, everyone,” Marigold cuts him off, pursing her lips. “Everyone except Mr Snape and Miss Y/L/N. Do not even think about speaking Mr Black, or I won’t hesitate to suspend your and Mr Potter’s Quidditch privileges until further notice.”

Sirius shuts his mouth after a nudge from James and you shoot your friends a grateful smile before making your way out of the classroom, followed closely by Snape.

The door shuts behind him and you don’t bother sparing him a glance before dumping your bag on the ground and leaning against a wall to focus your gaze on a suit of armour for the next five minutes. You’re about half a minute in when you notice that one of the hands are slightly wonky and the classroom door suddenly opens.

Remus, of all people, enters the hallway to join the two of you and quickly shuts the door.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, furrowing your brows and getting up from against the wall.

“Yeah, what are you doing here?” Snape sneers at him, and you give him a scathing look before turning to Remus for an answer.

Remus pointedly ignores him to stand next to you against the brick wall. “I just pointed out to Professor Marigold that you both have your wands and she may not have two students left out here by the end of the lesson.”

“I can defend myself,” you snort, folding your arms. You aren’t sure if you’re annoyed that Remus is insinuating otherwise, or if you’re touched that he doesn’t want you to be hexed into oblivion by Snape. “Especially from him.”

“Oh, I know,” Remus raises both hands in surrender as his tone becomes grave. “It’s not you I’m worried about, trouble.”

“Ha ha,” you deadpan, rolling your eyes at the nickname. He started it around a year ago when you got your first ever detention for helping Sirius and James Charm the Slytherin chairs to throw them off every time someone sat. Your friends had kept quiet about your involvement, but Peeves had spotted you, the nosy bastard. The nickname stemmed from the fact it was the first time you had ever gotten into trouble and it never failed to irritate you. “You better be careful I don’t hex you.”

“I wouldn’t dream of annoying you,” he says, but the serious tone of voice is ruined by the way his lips are twitching in an attempt not to laugh at you. “After what happened when I said I didn’t like that one Jane Austen book? Forget it.”

“Hey, you insulted one of my favourite characters,” you point out, resting a hand on your hip. “What did Emma ever do to you? You had that hex coming.”

“I had pink hair for a week,” Remus narrows his eyes at you, but you can tell he isn’t really angry. Although he refuses to admit it, you know for a fact he didn’t hate the pink hair considering how good he looked with it. An annoying indiscretion on your part. Remus looks behind you for a split second before leaning in a little to whisper. “I won’t get in the way if you want to turn Snape’s hair pink, though. Preferably a very bright shade of flaming, hot pink.”

At risk of your own cheeks flaming up from how close he is – really, what’s the need? – you shake your head let your hair fall into your face. Almost having forgotten Snape is also there, you start when he scoffs (for what you think is the millionth time this afternoon) and you sigh before facing him begrudgingly. “What now?”

“Couldn’t handle the content of today’s lesson?” he asks, tiling his head. You’re about to ask him what the hell he’s talking about before you realise, he isn’t actually talking to you, but to the boy behind you.

“Uh…” you trail off, not sure how to respond. All three of you currently standing in the corridor know that Remus is smart enough to tackle any type of content, especially something as memorable and interesting as werewolves.

Remus’ amused demeanour has been wiped away and you can’t determine his exact expression, but his voice is cold when he talks to you. “Just ignore him.”

“You and your group of friends can’t help themselves when it comes to defending strays and all sorts,” Snape continues, much to your confusion. “It’s not enough that you’re a group full of blood-traitors and mudbloods…”

Remus tenses up behind you and you find yourself frozen for a second.

The next thing you know, you’re lunging at the greasy-haired Slytherin with every intention of hurting his face with your fists, wand long forgotten. Your fingers barely brush his robes, however, when you feel yourself being hauled back by strong arms that wrap around your middle.

“Let go!” you snarl, enjoying the way Snape has backed away, eyes wide and worried. “Did you hear what he said? Remus, let me go.”

He doesn’t relent, still holding onto you when he leans down to speak in your ear. “You’ve already gotten into trouble. You’ll get into a whole lot more when everyone walks out to see Snape with a black eye and you with bruised knuckles.”

“Worth it,” you grit out, still pulling away from his grip and throwing daggers with your eyes at Snape. After a few more seconds of pointless struggling, you relax very slightly just to turn in his arms so you can direct your next words to him more pointedly. “Not only is he a slimy, blood-supremacist twat, but he also wants to kill a poor bunch of werewolves. We should be throwing him into the bloody Black Lake!”

“I know, I-” Remus is cut off when the door opens and students start flooding into the corridor to provide a barrier between you and Snape, indicating the end of the lesson. Remus finally lets you go when he realises you’re in direct view of Professor Marigold who stands behind her desk, waiting for you. “I had no idea you were such an advocate for werewolves.”

It’s the last thing you expected him to say and you immediately look up at him and frown. “Again, they’re people. They don’t deserve to be victims of prejudice just as no one does.” He doesn’t respond, staring at you with an unreadable expression and a hint of a smile. Your frown deepens in confusion. Was he… laughing at you? Especially after you had just gotten along. “I’m so glad you find me amusing,” you say, scowling and storming back into the classroom and away from Remus.

3. when he's too good for flower crowns.

“Tell it again,” James insists, grin wide as ever plastered onto his face despite the withering look you send his way. “Getting a glimpse at even the possibility of Snivellus getting pummelled by Y/N would have made my entire year.”

“The galleons I’d give up to have been there,” Sirius releases a wistful sigh, closing his eyes as he lies down, facing the sun.

You hand him the daisy chain crown you just finished and he dutifully dons it. “I’ll alert the Ministry of Magic to order in a time-turner for an issue of utmost urgency,” you say sarcastically as you start on the next daisy chain. Sirius merely winks at you.

“I think you should’ve let her have at him, Remus,” Marlene states, unapologetic. You nod vehemently in agreement, a little too enthusiastically as you end up splitting a daisy down the middle.

Lily tuts, adjusting her own flower crown as it slips against her silky red hair. “I’m glad you didn’t. Godric knows what Professor Marigold would have done,” she shudders at the thought, ever the diligent student.

“Forget Marigold,” Peter chimes in. “Imagine what Professor McGonagall would have done.”

You don’t miss how he looks over his shoulder in case your head of house is taking a stroll along the grassy grounds.

“She would have combusted when you called him an ugly arse,” Remus pipes in, unhelpfully might you add, from where he sits slightly away from the group under a tree, reading.

The comment sends Marlene, Sirius and Peter into a fit of laughter – James is too busy staring at the way the sun is making Lily look ethereal and she’s too busy pretending not to notice while being secretly pleased. Doing a quick survey of your friends, you see everyone now has a flower crown except Remus. You make your way to the tree he’s resting against while the others chat, and sit yourself down with purpose.

Remus lowers his book very slightly to peer at you and your too-sweet smile. He raises a sceptical brow. “Should I be scared right now?”

You drop the fake smile and hold up your flower crown expectantly. “Everyone has one, but you.”

“How observant,” he says, setting his book down to look at you in mock astonishment. “Have the Aurors at the Ministry caught wind of you yet?”

“Don’t be a pain,” you groan, dropping it onto his open book. “I want everyone to wear one for the picture!”

Remus sighs, looking at the large camera over by your bag. You had saved up all summer to buy a magical camera to be able to take pictures of you and your friends in your final year at Hogwarts. The time you used your own muggle camera was a disaster of sparks and broken bits of plastic that took hours to mend. “I already agreed to your incessant picture-taking,” he reminds you, acting like it’s the most painful thing in the world. “The flower crown is not happening.”

“Fine, you miserable git,” you flick a handful of grass at him, sending him sputtering. “Now come and sit for the photo.”

You return to the group with Remus behind you and get everyone in position before hunting down someone to take the photo. Glancing around, you spot a close bunch of first-years and send Lily to use her Head Girl credentials (and warm and inviting personality, of course) to rope one of them into coming over.

“Okay, smile everyone,” you order, plopping down on the grass next to James. You elbow him in the ribs, not even having to look at him to know what he’s doing. “Stop looking at Lily and look at the camera.”

With a couple of mutterings and some nudging, the nervous first-year Hufflepuff girl shakily takes the picture and hurriedly hands you the camera in the middle of the picture sliding out of it. James and Sirius go back to playing with a golden Snitch while Peter watches, while Remus returns to his book.

Lily looks at the picture and coos over how cute everyone looks at the same time as Marlene complaining about her hair. You impatiently take the picture back to slide it into your photo album and something catches your eye.

Sirius is making a peace sign behind Remus’ head. His head that wears a flower crown.

4. when he bleeds out on you.

You’re not sure what time it is – either very late at night, or very early in the morning. You do know, however, that you want to finish your Herbology essay so you can enjoy tomorrow (or today) and cheer your friends on in the Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw Quidditch game. You only have the conclusion left and you’re confident it’ll be done in the next ten minutes.

If you can find your damned quill, that is. You could have sworn you had it ten minutes ago, just before you snuck down to the kitchens to persuade the house-elves to give you the strongest cup of coffee they could make. You take a quick sip and grimace at the lukewarm temperature before setting it down and getting up to search. After turning every sofa cushion upside down, you go to crouch behind the sofa.

You hear the door to the common room being swung open and the hushed voices of the Marauders enter, but you don’t take too much notice as you squint for your quill. It isn’t unusual for the boys to be roaming around the castle at odd hours of the night, but a hiss of pain grabs your attention at the same time you spot the quill.

“Can you guys manage taking him up to the-” Sirius cuts himself off when your face pops up from behind the sofa. He freezes in his efforts to hold up Remus, who you notice is leaning on him and James and Merlin’s balls he’s covered in blood.

“What the fuck happened to him?” Your voice comes out weak as you walk over to the boys. Remus has deep, bleeding slashes over his chest and an assortment of little cuts on his face and hands. He seems barely able to keep his eyes open but when his gaze meets yours, he winces. He isn’t the only one hurt and you realise Sirius’ arm is damp with blood and trembling, the same going for James’ thigh. “What the fuck happened to all of you, oh my God…?”

“Peter, you were supposed to keep watch,” James hisses at the boy who looks like a deer in headlights. He looks a lot better than the others, with only a couple of small cuts scattered around his face and arms.

“She was behind the sofa!”

James’ leg buckles and you snap out of your state of shock to dart forward and keep him steady. “Right. Shit, okay,” you breathe out, holding off asking any questions to prevent anyone from bleeding out. “James, Sirius, set Remus down on the sofa and take off his shirt. Peter, help these two up the stairs and go find a first-aid kit or something.”

“We’ve got a couple in the dorm,” Sirius says, summoning one of them down with a quick Accio and handing it to you. He hesitates for a second, probably unsure if he should stay and explain things, before deciding to turn in the direction of the stairs with James as Peter rushes to help them up. “Look after him, please. We’ll be right back, Moony.”

“Take your time, I’ve got him,” you utter, already fiddling with the first-aid box and trying to open it with shaky hands. You’re no healer, but you know enough to panic when you see Remus has had his eyes closed for the last few seconds. “Remus, keep your eyes open!”

He groans, cracking one eye open to look at you. “I’m injured and bleeding out and you still manage to yell at me.”

“I wasn’t yelling,” you frown, unscrewing the bottle of dittany and scrambling for the cotton pads. You try to avoid Remus’ gaze because you feel extremely silly about being more panicked than him when he’s the one with claw marks down his chest. “Don’t move, or it’ll hurt.”

While dabbing the liquid onto the deep gashes in an attempt to close them up, you ponder on the fact that he probably knows it hurts from experience. You’re not completely clueless.

“What are you thinking?” Remus whispers in the stifling quiet of the common room, looking unsure.

You don’t cease in your movements, changing cotton pad after cotton pad. It takes you a minute to muster up the courage to meet Remus’ gaze again and this time he looks more nervous than you’ve ever seen him. “You’re a werewolf, aren’t you?”

Remus gives you an almost imperceptible nod, like he doesn’t want to admit to it. You take a deep breath.

“Who else knows?” you ask calmly, as if you’re asking him about the weather.

“The boys and Lily,” he admits, swallowing hard. “Oh, and Snape.”

“Snape?” you exclaim, halting your dabbing to gawp at Remus. “I’m not saying you had to tell me or anything, but Snape?”

 Remus winces and you don’t think it has anything to do with his injuries. “In my defence he found out on his own and hates me for it,” he rushes out. “And it’s not that I didn’t want to tell you… I-”

“It’s fine,” you cut him off, waving him off and wondering how good you’re hiding the fact you’re a little hurt. “You didn’t have to tell me.”

“No, I wanted to. I did,” Remus insists, looking earnest. There’s something in his voice that’s a little pained and desperate that has you meeting his eyes. “I just couldn’t have dealt with it if you started looking at me differently. The boys and Lily sometimes do, y’know? Like I’m made of glass or something. It’s refreshing whenever you scowl at me or call me an idiot or an arse or a stupid gi-”

“Okay,” you stop him, stifling a grin. “I get it!”

Remus’ eyes flash with relief for a second before you notice doubt start to creep in again. “You don’t need to hide it, by the way. I won’t hold it against you if… If you’re scared or disgusted, or-”

“What?” you cut him off again and scrunch your nose in confusion. “I’m not scared or disgusted. Why would you think that?”

“You’ve been a bit too calm,” he points out.

Rolling your eyes, you grab a bandage to start patching up the worst of the injuries before you move onto the minor cuts and bruises. “I didn’t want you to think I was freaking out, or looking at you differently,” you quote his own words to him with a pointed look, making him smile again. “I don’t, you know. Think of you any differently, I mean.”

His expression is unreadable as he just looks at you and you just look at him, bandage hovering over his chest before his fingers come up to brush the back of your hand. He lightly holds your hand, softly running his thumb over your knuckle as his voice drops to a whisper again. “Thank you.”

You offer him a gentle smile, holding his gaze for a second longer before focusing on bandaging him up again. His hand drops to the side and you oddly find yourself missing his warmth. The large bandage adheres to his skin and you run your fingers along the sides to stick them down, feeling him shudder under your touch.

You quickly busy yourself with looking for more supplies in the kit to hide the way your own breathing has increased slightly. “Hey, anyway, I almost walloped Snape right in the eye for you. If that wasn’t any indication of my standing on werewolves, I don’t know what is.”

“Ah, my knight in shining armour,” Remus chuckles before breaking into a wheeze as the muscles of his injured abdomen contract. “Fuck, don’t make me laugh.”

“Don’t laugh at me then!”

5. when you’re definitely not jealous… you’re not!

Three cups of coffee. You’re on three cups of coffee. It’s also the same number of hours you’ve slept and by Godric can you feel it in every inch of your body as the muted chatter of the Great Hall buzzes around you. Your head is in your hands as you contemplate stealing some Polyjuice potion and bribing a first-year to take a dose with your hair in it so you can go to bed and they can pretend to watch the Quidditch match.

You knock back the last sip of coffee when you sense a presence sliding onto the bench in front of you. Groggily setting the cup down, you see that its Remus. It takes a second to remember why this is concerning.

“Morning, h- Wait, what the hell are you doing out of bed?” you hiss, leaning forward to avoid anyone listening in. You scan your eyes over his chest, two seconds away from ripping his shirt off to check his bandages. “How are you even standing?”

“Relax, Florence Nightingale,” Remus says, rolling his eyes at your dramatics. He does his own quick sweep of the table and sees that most people are out in the Quidditch stands already, so he proceeds to pull the neckline of his shirt down slightly to reveal an already fading scar. No bleeding in sight. “I went to Madame Pomfrey with the boys this morning and she hurried up the process like she usually does. I feel achier than a 90-year-old woman with a metal hip, but the brunt of it is gone and Pads and Prongs are good as new.”

“Okay,” you say slowly, narrowing your eyes slightly. “If you’re sure you can sit out in the stands…”

“I can once I’ve consumed every cup of tea on the premises,” he says, reaching for the teapot. An annoyingly smug smirk starts to appear on his face while he pours. “What, are you worried about me, trouble?”

You scowl instantly. “No, I just don’t want you collapsing on me in the Quidditch stands while I’m cheering the boys on.”

“Right.” He hides his grin behind his cup of tea.

“Hey,” you mumble, nodding to Patricia Holloway who looks like she’s making a beeline to your table. More specifically, towards Remus. “Bright and cheery Hufflepuff incoming.”

“Merlin, it’s too early for this,” Remus whispers, taking another sip of tea before his face breaks out into a charming smile directed at the girl who slides into the empty seat next to him. “Morning, Patricia.”

“You look good today, Remus,” Patricia rests her elbow on the table and tilts her head to look at him with simpering eyes. It’s no secret Remus is good-looking and you’ve heard a million girls talk about him before. You’ve never seen any of them approach him yourself, though. You can’t say you enjoy it. “Are you… okay, Y/N?”

You didn’t realise you were scowling until she addresses you and you rapidly smooth out your expression, clearing your throat. Remus looks amused, which makes it harder to keep the scowl off your face. “Fine! I’m fine, just a bit confused since Remus looks half asleep,” you attempt a laugh through gritted teeth and are spurred on when Remus is actively trying to fight a grin. “And his hair currently makes him look like he’s been dragged through the Forbidden Forest.”

He can’t stop himself snorting at that, but Patricia just looks confused as though unsure how to react. She settles on a nervous little laugh, turning back to him. “I can fix that for you, here,” she says, scooting closer and starts to run her hands through Remus’ hair. You poke your cheek with your tongue, marvelling at how bold she’s being and how Remus is just sat there, still looking amused as ever. “There, what do you think?”

“A hairbrush couldn’t have done a better job,” you deadpan, softening your expression slightly when Patricia begins to look a little disconcerted. “You keep doing that, I’m going to head off to the Quidditch field.”

You all but storm out of the Great Hall, exhaustion having left you completely. It’s replaced by a newfound whirl of irritation that pools in your stomach and creeps up your throat, making you feel a little sick. It must be the coffee, you think, and you’re trying to remember if the beverage has ever made you experience this when all of a sudden there’s a hand circling your wrist.

“Stop, Y/N,” Remus says, a little breathless. You didn’t realise he’d run out after you and you feel bad about his injuries before your gaze snags on his newly tousled hair. “Godric, you walk fast.”

“I didn’t ask you to catch up to me,” you snap, purposely scowling this time. The cheeky bastard still looks amused and your irritation is growing faster than ever. “Besides, the match doesn’t start for another fifteen minutes. Plenty of time for Patricia to give you a whole new hairdo. Maybe she can give you plaits or– Why are you laughing.”

“You’re jealous,” he exhales with a smile, sounding positively delighted. Any feelings of concern have disappeared and are being rapidly replaced with wanting to thwack him upside the head. “Oh my God, you really are jealous.”

“Jealous, my arse,” you scoff, turning your back to him with every intention of speed walking out of the castle. His long legs keep up with you easily and he rushes in front of you to stop you going anywhere. You glare at him. “Leave me alone, Lupin.”

“Not until you admit that you’re jealous.” Remus is positively giddy with glee and you feel a flush of heat crawling up your neck. You set your jaw stubbornly and he’s incredulous as he shakes his head. “Merlin, you really have to argue with me on everything don’t you? I don’t care about Patricia Holloway and I’m glad you’re jealous. Means you’re less likely to break my nose when I kiss you.”

You barely get the chance to make an incoherent noise when Remus grabs you by the waist and presses his lips against yours, kissing you like he isn’t prepared to let you go anytime soon. His mouth slides hot and wet against your own and you gasp into the kiss when he nips lightly at your lip, your hands coming up to slide into his hair, making it unruly all over again.

Remus is the first to break apart, too soon, and you physically restrain yourself from chasing after his lips. He pulls back slightly, breathing fast to look into your eyes, searching for the answer you’re unable to speak yet.

“You… uh, I-I’m…” you trail off, dazed and breathless and head swirling with every emotion under the sun.

Remus laughs, pulling you impossibly close and leaving a soft kiss on your jaw, which doesn’t help your current speech issues. “If I knew that was all it took to shut you up, I’d have kissed you years ago.”

“Wha-!” You slap his arm, snapping out of the haze. You hide your current uncertainty behind a glare. It hit you like a ton of bricks, but you realised about five seconds into the kiss that you wanted Remus Lupin in every way, shape and form. You’re more than a little terrified, so what better defence mechanism than anger? “Why did you actually kiss me, you prick?”

“You are the densest, most clueless,” Remus begins, pausing to kiss you lightly a couple times when you start to scowl. “Most stubborn and most beautiful little witch I’ve ever known. And if you haven’t figured out after almost seven years that I love you, then I’m afraid we might have to admit you to St Mungo’s, because really-”

“Stop,” you whisper, lifting a finger to press against his lips, effectively silencing him. “You love me? You actually, seriously love me?”

He rolls his eyes and nods, like it’s obvious or something. You huff. “Then why have you been such an annoying pain in my bloody arse, Remus Lupin?!”

“Because,” he says, the word coming out muffled and you hastily remove your finger. “It was a good way to keep your attention. Plus, I like when you’re angry. It’s cute.”

You scowl without thinking and his smile impossibly widens.

“See?”

“Shut up and kiss me again,” you say dryly, pulling him in by the collar to give him a short, searing kiss. “Oh, and I guess I love you too.”

“So, no broken noses in my future?” Remus asks hopefully, softly sliding his nose against yours.

“No promises.”

© angelfic 2023.

[pedropascallme]

I’ll Always Come Back

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!Reader; no use of y/n

Summary: “The bed in the house you shared wasn’t all that large, but without Joel in it you felt completely dwarfed. It was like the mattress was swallowing you whole without Joel to anchor you to his broad shoulders and wide chest.”

Warnings: Smut (18+ MINORS DNI), dom/sub dynamics (dom!Joel x sub!Reader), fingering, oral (M & F receiving), p in v sex, praise kink, daddy kink. If I missed anything please let me know!

~~~

Summer in Jackson was a mixed bag. On the one hand, the warm weather made it much more encouraging to tend to your day-to-day activities; you could clean up around the house, sing along to the radio Joel had fixed up while you rearranged the cabin you had been gifted. You could go out and mingle without the need to put on layers and layers of clothing. And the plants—God, the plants! Things were growing, summer meant fresh greens and tending to your little plot of garden.

On the other hand, summer in Jackson meant extended patrols; the warm weather encouraged raiders to branch out further, to attempt riskier and riskier maneuvers. You never felt scared, why should stuff like that scare you after everything you had been through with Joel and Ellie? But what did get to you was the fact that Joel’s patrols were getting longer as the warm June days arrived.

Ultimately, things weren’t much different. You and Ellie and Joel still had time together and time apart, but it drove you nearly insane when you had to get into bed without him, wake up without him. The bed in the house you shared wasn’t all that large, but without Joel in it you felt completely dwarfed. It was like the mattress was swallowing you whole without Joel to anchor you to his broad shoulders and wide chest.  

Today had consisted of next to nothing. Ellie had shouted at you while you were still half asleep, saying something along the lines of “Dina” and “movie night” and “back tomorrow, maybe!” You had offered a lazy “mmff” in response. And then you heard the door slam. You tried your best to spend the day doing something—anything—productive. Go for a walk, clean the kitchen, weed the garden. In the end, though, you had found yourself letting yet another day slip by completely wasted. Maybe not completely: You had found the copy of The Catcher in the Rye that you had picked up somewhere along your journey with Joel and Ellie.

You remembered how much you had loved the cover when you first read the book—you must’ve been 14 or 15, if even. The red carousel horse that looked so…messy and unhinged. That might’ve been what initially drew you to the book in the first place, not to judge a book by its cover or anything, but it just looked so promising. When you reread it, you found yourself comparing Holden Caulfield to one Joel Miller; the character’s intensity, his need to isolate himself in order to protect himself and everybody else, his crippling losses. It was all Joel. So maybe, in the back of your mind, you had really just started skimming through it today to remind yourself of the growth you had seen Joel go through in your time together. He was so closed off, so hesitant when you had first joined him and Ellie. Of course, the biggest difference between the real life and the literary was Joel’s ability to grow, to open up and remember how to feel; Holden never really got that sort of closure.

After hours and hours of reading and reminiscing, the sun had finally started to go down. You prepared yourself for another night alone in the house. You were happy Ellie had the ability to go out and spend her time with people she loved, but when Joel was out for so long, you couldn’t help but feel jealous. Jealous and lonely. But you were a big girl, and you could handle it. Even if you hated it. You changed out of your denim shorts and took off the tank top that was now fairly sweaty, opting to sleep naked. Might as well if nobody is going to see you, anyway. You curled up under the bedsheet, not bothering to sleep under the comforter, it was entirely too hot for that. You fell asleep far quicker than anticipated.

You woke with a start when you felt a hand wrap around your midriff, a voice in your ear drawling “g’night, darlin’.” Dazed, you turned yourself over to face the direction of the voice.

Joel was home.

Nothing could’ve snapped you out of your groggy state faster than the excitement of seeing him again after so long. Really, it hadn’t been long at all, but it was always such a relief having him back next to you. You clung to him, reacquainting yourself with his smell and the feel of him. Just as quickly, though, you pushed yourself up and off of him.

“You’re dirty.”

“Missed you too, sweetheart.” He pulled you back down to him, caging you in with his arms. “Don’t’cha like dirty, baby?” He laughed while you tried to wriggle yourself out of his hold.

“Like it when it’s how you’re acting, not when you’re literally caked in dirt.” You faked outrage, hitting his chest softly.

“C’mon, know you like seein’ me this way.”

And he was right, obviously. You loved seeing his hair pushed back with sweat, feeling his calloused hands against your bare back, tracing his collarbones and feeling the gravelly remnants of dirt.

“You had a good patrol, then?” You asked, finally letting yourself fall atop him, truly not caring about the dirt and sweat.

“It was alright. Uneventful. Fuckin’ hot out there, though.”

“Maybe it’s time to start wearing shorts, cowboy.”

“Yeah, that’s what everybody wants to see. My old man knees shinin’ out in the sun.”

You giggled. He traced his hands down your naked body, letting himself feel every dimple and curve.

“You got th’right idea. Nothin’ like comin’ in from the heat to see my baby stripped down for me. Should probably start doin’ the same whenever I can.” He squeezed your ass roughly, forcing a moan from your lips.

“C-can’t just walk around the commune naked, Joel. At least put some rips in your pants.”

“Mm, why walk around the commune in jeans when I could strip down with you at home, darlin’?” He delivered a smack to your ass, making you gasp. “Could just stay here all day ‘nd play with you. Make me sweat, keep me cool.” He quirked an eyebrow, tongue wetting his bottom lip before he brought your face to his with both his hands.

He tasted perfect, like the cigarettes he and Tommy swore they weren’t smoking, like whiskey, like mint, like black coffee. He licked at your bottom lip, encouraging you to open your mouth and let his tongue in. You felt him sweep the inside of your mouth, spit mingling and teeth clacking together as the kiss intensified. Without separating himself from you, Joel sat up, grabbing you by the hair and biting your bottom lip.

“Gonna be good f’me?” He still had you by the hair as he started to undo his belt. “Gonna show daddy what you missed so much while I was gone?”

“Wanna show you, please Joel.”

He pulled your hair tighter into his fist, and you let out a high pitched sound.

“You can do better than that, baby. Try again.”

“Please daddy, I wanna show you what I missed!”

“Atta girl.”

He pulled his belt from the loops on his jeans in one swift motion, undoing his button and fly just as fast. You could see the bulge that had grown in his jeans, and your mouth watered at the sight.

“You wanna be good?” Joel pulled your head back so that you were looking into his eyes. “You gotta work for what you want, baby. You know that.” He laughed when your hands flew to his crotch, shoving the denim down his hips and doing the same to the boxers he was wearing. You took his hard length in your hands; no matter how long you had been together, no matter how many times he let you have it, you were consistently amazed by how big he was. He was long, thick, heavy in your hands, and it just spurred you on further to show him how good you could be.

“Spit.” He still had a fist in your hair, and he held you above the tip of his cock. You did as you were told, letting your spit drip from his tip, down his shaft. He made you repeat the action once more before letting you move your hands.

“Good girl, jerkin’ daddy off so good.” He groaned when you dropped a hand to his balls, your other hand working his full length. His back arched slightly when you gave his balls a squeeze, moving your hand to focus on the head of his cock. He released you from his grip.

“Open your mouth, baby, give your daddy a show, huh?” You jumped at the chance, shuffling down his body and lowering your face between his hips. You kept one hand working up and down his shaft and took as much as you could in your mouth, flicking your tongue against his most sensitive spots.

“Fuck, good girl. Gonna make me cum if you keep going like that. Fuck!” You took his rambling as an opportunity to take as much of him as you could down your throat. Suddenly, his hand was back in your hair, pulling you off of him. A string of your saliva kept you connected to his cock, dripping from your puffy lips.

Joel brought your face back up to his, catching you in a heated kiss. You felt him bite your bottom lip, your own tongue tasting the inside of his mouth. He broke away for just long enough to flip you onto your back. He stood over you, pulling his jeans off completely and staring down at you hungrily.

“Y’out here sayin’ you don’t like dirty. You got such a mouth on you, baby, y’know it’s not good to go ‘round lyin’.” He pulled you towards him by your ankles, letting your legs fall over the edge of the bed before he kneeled in front of you and hiked them up on his shoulders. “See how I know you were lyin’?” He wasted no time showing you, pushing a thick finger into your cunt. “Drippin’ baby, fuckin’ soaked. S’all for daddy, isn’t it, sweetheart?” You moaned at the sudden intrusion. Just one of Joel’s fingers was enough to make you lose control completely. He twisted it inside you, pumping in and out slowly.

“Tell me it’s for daddy.”

“I—it’s all for, it’s all f—for daddy!” You gasped when you felt another one of his fingers exploring your slit, using your wet to force itself in beside his other finger.

“S’what I thought.” He curled his fingers, bringing his mouth down to your clit and sucking hard. You let out a scream of his name. He only sucked harder, letting the bundle of nerves go with a pop.

“Cum on my fingers, baby. C’mon now, give it to me.” You felt his fingers, still curled, start rubbing against the spongy spot inside of you. Your walls began to clench around his fingers, his mouth once again finding a pace on your clit. You came around his fingers with a jumbled mixture of gasps and screams, barely registering how he talked you through it.

“Good fuckin’ girl, that’s it. Yeah, show daddy what a good girl you are.” Joel placed another kiss on your clit, slowly slipping his fingers out of you. Though your mind was still foggy from the orgasm he had just given you, you whined at the sudden emptiness. When he stood above you again, you reached your arms up for him. He smiled down at you, bending over to kiss your forehead and then your lips.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, not done yet.” He straightened himself out a little, placing a knee on the bed next to you. You reached out to brush your fingers over his thigh. God, he was so muscular. You suppose, for all the walking he did, he should be, but still. Your legs were once again over his shoulders, now above you as he loomed over your naked figure. He took his cock in his hand, stroking himself as he lined himself up with your still dripping slit.

“Daddy’s gonna give you more baby, don’t worry.” You felt the tip of his cock nudge your clit before he lowered himself into your pussy. You both groaned at the contact; the squeeze of your cunt around his thick cock felt like heaven for each of you.

Once fully inside of you, Joel dropped the leg that had bed resting on the bed back to the ground, and pressed his body to yours, chest to chest. He pulled out till just his head was still resting in your pussy, before snapping his hips forward, shoving himself completely back into you, punching the air from your lungs.

“Missed this pussy,” he breathed out shakily, keeping a harsh pace, “missed feelin’ your tight fuckin’ cunt wrap around me like this.”

“Missed you so much, missed daddy’s cock—fuck!” He had your arms above your head now, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples and slowing his strokes slightly, continuing to fuck you deep. You rubbed your hips into his own, desperate for as much friction as you could get. He felt you bucking your hips, laughing at your desperation.

“Poor lil’ baby, such a needy fuckin’ pussy.”

“Dadd—y, need it!”

“Watch your mouth, darlin’, I’m givin’ it to you, ain’t I? Remember who you’re speakin’ to,” he sped up his thrusts, making your tits bounce while you lay back taking it. “Need some fuckin’ manners, baby.”

“I—fuck!—Please daddy, need to cu—m on your cock. Please!” You were begging, he had you exactly where he wanted you. Fucked out and messy, your hair sticking to your forehead and your slick dripping down his cock to your thighs. He loved when you got desperate. Fuck, he had missed you. He had been gone two, maybe three days, and all he could think about was coming home to you. One of his hands came down between your legs, fingers attaching to your clit. You arched your back, moaning, inviting him to touch you where you needed him most. He massaged your bud in tight, neat circles, his fingers moving faster than his thrusts.

He was fucking merciless.

“Can feel that pussy getting’ tighter on me. Y’gonna cum for me again, baby? Gonna cover daddy’s cock in your pretty fuckin’ juices?” His thrusts were beginning to speed up, and within a few more seconds of him fucking you senseless and talking you up (“Good girl, good girl gonna soak daddy’s big cock. That’s right, beautiful, make a fuckin’ mess on me.”) you were cumming hard around him. You grabbed at him, pulling him down onto you while he continued to push his cock deeper into you.

“That’s right, my fuckin’ girl. So good baby, tha’s it.” You scratched your nails down his back, legs shaking as you wrapped them around him. His thrusts became sloppy, nearing his high. You took it upon yourself to gain back a teeny bit of control.

“Cum, daddy, please. Want you to fill me up, want daddy’s cum.” He growled in your ear, fucking into you harder.

“Yeah? Want daddy to full this cunt with my fuckin’ load, baby?”

“Please, yes please,” you begged, still trembling from your own high.

“Gonna give it to you, sweetheart, gonna—shit, gonna fill you up so nice and deep—” He cut himself off with a deep thrust and a loud groan. You felt the warm spurts of his cum deep inside you, moaning at the sensation. He moaned, dropping himself down onto you. You stayed like that for as long as you could; his cock softening inside you, his full body weight pressing you into the springs of the old mattress, your breathing heavy. It was perfect.

“I missed you so much,” Joel panted out, still catching his breath. “M’sorry for comin’ home dirty. ‘Nd late.” He pushed himself up off of you, now mostly-soft cock sliding out of you, turning to lie on his back. You crawled up to him, lying on your side as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. You could feel his cum and yours dripping down the curve of your thigh and onto the mattress.

“You know I don’t mind. I know you’re out there keeping us all safe. You’re good at it.” You kissed his jawline. “Plus, means I get to welcome you back like this.” He smiled, letting you continue trailing kisses wherever you could reach.

“Just hate leavin’ you.”

“I know you’ll always come back home to me.”

He looked down at you, still smiling. You’ll never get used to seeing Joel Miller smile, but you’ll always love how he looked doing it. He kissed your forehead, pushing the hair out of your face before taking your chin in his hand and leaning you up to kiss him.

“I’ll always come back.”

[biillyhargroves]

no but billy and chrissy are best friends in the “unlikely animal friendships” type of way. he is a feral cat that lives in a dumpster and hisses at passersby and she is a well-kept designer-breed doodle. and they LOVE EACH OTHER. and the best part is that no one sees it coming. chrissy? pretty, popular, the-sun-rises-and-sets-on-her, homecoming queen, peppy cheerleader, sweet-as-pie chrissy cunningham? and dark horse, pedal to the metal, chain-smoking, swears-like-a-sailor, total metalhead, keg king billy hargrove? they seem like complete opposites. they seem like they wouldn’t have a single thing in common. and yet!!!! there they are. he drives her to school every! day! they spend study hall passing notes and doodling in the margins of their shared copy of the catcher in the rye. they are always together (which jason hates, btw - but he also knows if he says anything about it chrissy will claw his eyes out because that’s her bff and god forbid anything come between them). they have inside jokes that no one could ever hope to understand. you almost never see one without the other. they’re BEST FRIENDS. feral cat!billy and spoiled poodle!chrissy. the king and and queen of hawkins high. 

[butterflyscribbles]

So I haven’t talked nearly enough about Mutant Mayhem yet but I saw it for the second time a few days ago and they have consumed all my thoughts have some random headcanons I’m dying I have to talk about them more:

⚠️(Spoiler warning for MM as well)⚠️

April

- Lives with her mom and grandfather on her mother’s side. Raised by a single mom who’s a veterinarian and her grandpa, a retired tailor and clothing retail manager, moved in after her grandma passed away a few years ago.

- Listens to way too many murder mystery podcasts and thrillers are her favorite movie genre

- Practices doodling a lot in the sides of her journal or class notes. She’s inspired by courtroom sketch artists and old biology journals.

- Swears like a sailor. Even more than Raph. Tries to censor herself around them but it only gets worse the closer they become as friends

- Becomes a sort of ambassador for the turtles and other mutants in the city. Anyone who doesn’t approve of them, goes through her…

- Favorite subject is biology, outside of working on the school newspaper of course

Leo

- Big time book worm. Has read a lot of the classics like The Great Gatsby, Catcher in the Rye, etc. which gives him an advantage heading into high school. His favorite subject is literature naturally as a result.

- Autistic, practically canon but just putting it out there

- Like April, he’s got a sensitive stomach under pressure. Nausea flares up all the time, especially at the sight or smell of blood. They bond over it. Nothing brings two people together like commiserating that your tummy hurts all the time🤝

- Hopeless romantic. Had fallen head over heels for a few other girls he spotted up top even before April came along. She was just��different. He watches a lot of sappy romance movies too they make him feel all warm and fuzzy.

- Love language is words of affirmation big time. He’s always about hyping up the people he loves and will defend them through anything.

Raph

- He’s the team medic in this iteration. He’s no professional but growing up he had so many injuries from being a scrappy lil dude that he picked up on how to take care of ‘em on his own and of course shares that knowledge with his bros and April later. He’s surprisingly gentle when he needs to be.

- He’s the most prone to nightmares/night terrors. The fact that Raph was the one to go seek comfort from Splinter in the tots scene is so important to me.

- He and Donnie are the anime enthusiasts. Hasn’t seen as many as Donnie but it’s close.

- Scratching his shell gently, especially up by the shoulder blades, is like an automatic snooze button. He passes out within minutes.

- Second biggest crybaby to Mikey. It happens when he feels any emotion too strongly whether it’s happiness, anger, sadness, etc. and he hates it. Makes him feel weak, which is why there usually is a lot of punching involved too.

Donnie

- Can’t swim and is the only one who actively dislikes getting into the water.

- He and Leo have been studying how to speak and write Japanese together for years. Don has picked up a lot from all the anime he watches.

- Is the most emotionally open version of Donnie to date. He’s always telling his family how much he loves them without restraint and is the first to ask what’s wrong if he picks up on someone acting weird or trying to hide something.

- To compliment the above hc, he’s insanely observational, like Sherlock level. They don’t know how he’s able to do it but his attention to detail and his ability to take that and create plans and get a read on people is baffling. If Donnie doesn’t get a good vibe off someone, believe him and run the other way. (Makes him really good at those spot the different puzzles too lol.)

- Loves to dance just like his previous incarnation before him:’) Bootyyyshaker9001

Mikey

- Is actually afraid of cats…growing up with Splinter, who would freak out at the sight of them, only taught him to freak out along with him. They are sharp and unpredictable.

- Other than that however he’s an animal lover. Had a few pet fish through the years that he saved after being flushed.

- Practically canon but the most physically affectionate by leagues. Constantly seeking a brother, adopted mutant family member, or an April to cling to.

- Super into musicals and is a actually a decent singer

- Can take a punch like nothing you’ve ever seen and can still be standing….but gets sick constantly his immune system is wack

[chaifootsteps]

Y'know, that clip from Family Guy, where Quagmire tells Brian why he hates him, kind of fits Viv. ⬇️ (just gotta change some words here and there)

You are the worst person I know. You constantly hit on your best friend's wife(screw over your friends), the man (they)pays for your food and rescued you from certain death(funded your youtube pilot, worked their butts off to get you where you are now), and this is how you repay him(them)? And to add insult to injury, you(go and talk about Ashley behind her back) defecate all over his yard. And you're such a sponge. You pay for nothing, you always say "Oh, I'll get you later," but later never comes. And what really bothers me, is you pretend you're this deep guy(woman) who loves women(LGBTQ+ people) for their souls when all you do is (relegate your LGBTQ+ characters down to stereotypes) date bimbos. Yeah, (some people make their LGBTQ ocs into stereotypes) I date women for their bodies, but at least (they're)I'm honest about it. (They)I don't buy them a copy of ("Sausage Party") "Catcher in the Rye" and then lecture them with some seventh grade interpretation of how (Seth Rogan) Holden Caulfield is some profound intellectual. He wasn't! He was a spoiled brat! And that's why you like him so much, he's you! God, you're pretentious! And you delude yourself by thinking you're some (savior of indie animation)great writer even though you're terrible. You know, I should've known(Gooseworx) Cheryl Tiegs didn't (draw) write me that (character) note. She would've(understood basic character design principles)known there's no "a" in the word "definite." And I think what I hate most about you is your textbook liberal agenda, how we should "legalize pot, man," how big business is crushing the underclass, how homelessness is the biggest tragedy in America. Well, what have you done to help? I work down at the soup kitchen, (Viv)Brian. Never seen you down there! You wanna help? Grab a ladle! And by the way, (being a well known indie creator)driving a Prius doesn't make you Jesus Christ! Oh, wait! You(probably) don't (know anything about)believe in Jesus Christ or any religion for that matter, because "religion is for idiots!" Well, who the hell are you to talk down to anyone? You failed (to make something good) college twice, which isn't nearly as bad as your failure as a (boss) father! How's (Erin) that son of yours you never see? But you know what? I could forgive all of that, all of it, if you weren't such a (hack) bore! That's the worst of it, (Vivienne)Brian. You're just a (bullying, narcissistic, talentless)big, sad, alcoholic (hack)bore.

File this one under asks that feel like cracking your back, in the best way.

[whoisshel]

Stuck on You

Honey was given the nickname for a reason; she’s sweet and sticky like honey. Memories of her will stick with you forever, and after meeting her, you’ll want to stick by her side. Most people know her by Honey more than they do her own name. The whole town of Hawkins was surprised when they learned who she allowed to stick by her at all times.

If there was ever a person to be considered an opposite of Honey, it was Eddie “The Freak” Munson. Eddie wore black and leather while Honey wore white and soft cotton. Eddie lived in a one-bedroom trailer with his Uncle, Honey grew up with both her parents and was surrounded by siblings in the house neighboring the Harrington’s. Eddie couldn't care less about the number of eyes that fell on him for being loud and different than everyone else in town, and Honey tried to shield herself from the eyes that peered at her being the town's sweetheart.

Yet, besides those differences, and more, the two found each other and haven’t left that feeling behind. Eddie and Honey started dating during Eddie’s second senior year and Honey’s first. They both knew of each other, of course, from being Hawkins’ freak and sweetheart. They officially met in their English class when Honey noticed Eddie looking confused while reading Catcher in the Rye, so she went over to see if she could be of any help.

“Hi,” Hones shyly said standing over the desk he sat at, “I saw that you seemed confused by the book, and was wondering if you’d like some help. Catcher in the Rye is one of my favorite books, I’ve read it like a million times.”

Eddie just stared at Honey as she rambled on. He took in her shy appearance as she swayed nervously with her hands linked behind her back. Eddie was mostly surprised that a girl who was dressed in a white sweater and short plaid skirt would willingly want to help him, not to mention this girl was loved by everyone in town.

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie finally sputtered out, “I would love your help.”

Not long after that, the two began to date, and the town erupted. Everyone talked about how surprised they were about the two teens dating. No one’s opinion was split though, it was probably the first the town could agree on something, Honey was too good for that “Freak.”

The town didn’t care to get to know Honey, because if they did they’d see that she’s not that different from Eddie.

Honey loves Rock music, what else is going to tune her parents’ shouting. She also enjoyed reading The Hobbit, she and Eddie loved reading The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings series over and over again together. While Honey didn’t know anything about Dungeons and Dragons before Eddie, she loved to listen to him talk about it and watch him play. Maybe she loved it because he loved it and would enthusiastically talk about it, or maybe because the game was actually fun.

The Dungeons and Dragons club members were very surprised when Honey showed up to one of the meetings. They heard the rumors but didn't believe them until the day they showed up to what was supposed to be a regular meeting but there Honey was all smiles and sitting comfortably on Eddie’s lap. The members were also surprised by how much patience Eddie had when teaching Honey the game. Usually, Eddie hated newbies that knew nothing, trying to play but when it came to Honey he was calm and collected, helping her every step of the way.

“Hey Eddie,” Honey unknowingly interrupted Eddie in the middle of telling another member his damage.

While everyone else froze, Eddie turned to Honey with the gentle list smile, “Yeah, babe?”

“Can you explain her powers to me again?”

Everyone assumed Eddie and Honey wouldn’t last longer than two months, but they were so wrong.

They’ve been together for three years now, Honey has graduated and is now a Junior in college while Eddie took another year to graduate High School where he met all their new friends. Eddie now works as a mechanic at a shop near Honey’s school. The two had even saved up enough money to move into an apartment and seemed like they weren’t going to be breaking up any time soon.

Honey and Eddie were happy that their place would give them space from the talk in their town but not too much that they couldn’t see friends or family. They would make the trip to visit Wayne and Honey’s siblings when they had time and would occasionally visit friends but most of the time they prioritized family. Their friends would visit them so much that they never needed to worry; especially when it came to Dustin, Steve, and Robin. Dustin practically lived with them from how often he would visit, and now that it’s his Junior year of High School all he can talk about is that once he graduated, he wants to go to the same college as Honey so they always be together.

“And then, I can get an apartment in the same building as yours so we can visit each other every day!” Dustin enthusiastically ranted.

Eddie looked over at Honey with wide eyes, while she just continued smiling. Eddie turned back to give Dustin a strained smile along with a nod, “That sounds great.”

The sarcasm was dripping off of Eddie’s extended “great” but that just went past Dustin as he continued with his plan.

“Oh, oh, even better idea. We should all move in together.”

It actually wasn’t too long after this conversation that three familiar faces became their neighbor six doors down.

Robin did attend the same college as Honey, and at first, she was just commuting but she wanted to live a shorter distance away. Robin and Vickie started looking for close apartments when Honey told her about a place that opened up in her building. One problem was that the place was a bit out of their price range and a two-bedroom. The place was really nice though and in walking distance to school so they wouldn’t have to pay for the parking pass. That’s when the third familiar face named Steve Harrington joined and now Honey and Eddie lived next to their friends.

Maybe living next to Dustin wouldn’t be so bad. Wrong!

In the morning, everyone stayed in their own apartments, giving Eddie and Honey time to enjoy each other's company. Every morning was pretty much the same for them. Honey was a big morning person, she loved to sit on the couch, placed perfectly near a window so she could watch the sun change from dark blue to orange to pink while she sipped on her Earl Grey Tea in her favorite Golden Girls mug. This gave Eddie time to sleep in because once the sun was shining Honey had nothing else to do but get Eddie up.

Eddie was not a morning person like his girlfriend but he couldn’t afford staying in bed; literally. Eddie had to be at work by nine a.m. which was luckier than the opener. Getting up at seven was made easier by the beautiful sight he saw every morning and the coffee that came with it.

Eddie stirred at the light caress he felt on his cheek, and what sounded to be an angel calling his name, “Eddie, it’s time to get up.”

When he realized what he was hearing, he scrunched his face in protest keeping his eyes shut tight trying to bring his sleep back.

“Come on, Eddie,” Honey chuckled at the cute face he made, “I’ve already let you sleep in. You’ve got to get ready for work.”

Eddie ended his protest, opening his eyes. As soon as he saw his beautiful girlfriend, a soft smile made its way on his face and to his eyes, “Good morning, beautiful.”

“Good morning, handsome.” Honey still had a hand on his cheek, stroking a thumb across his cheekbone, “I brought your coffee.”

Eddie sat up, leaning against the wall their bed was against. He reached over to the bedside table and grabbed the mug filled with coffee, taking a small sip, His face filled with disgust, pushing the mug towards Honey, “Bleh, not sweet enough.”

Honey just rolled her eyes, trying to hide the smile creeping its way onto her face. Eddie made this joke every morning; and yet, Honey never grew tired of it. Neither did Eddie, seeing the same reluctant smile turn into one of joy. So Honey did what she does every morning, and stuck her finger into his coffee.

Taking the mug back, Eddie took another sip, “That’s better.”

The two have heard everything there could be said about how they would never make it and they were too different from each other. Even though Honey continued to dress in white sweaters and Eddie in his black leather vest, the two could never be more alike or in love.

Eddie knew that, and so did the small felt box he kept stashed away.

[lightyaoigami]

welcome to my long promised grief media master post! my credentials: card carrying member of the dead dads club. i chose the books, tv, and movies based on vibes alone and i was guided by divine vision. possible spoilers below the cut.

Books

Catcher in the Rye

I was only thirteen, and they were going to have me psychoanalyzed and all, because I broke all the windows in the garage. I don’t blame them. I really don’t. I slept in the garage the night he died, and I broke all the goddam windows with my fist, just for the hell of it. It was a very stupid thing to do, I’ll admit, but I hardly didn’t even know I was doing it and you didn’t know Allie.

The Goldfinch

And what would I do? Part of me was immobile, stunned with despair, like those rats that lose hope in laboratory experiments and lie down in the maze to starve. I tried to pull my thoughts together. For a while, it had almost seemed that if I sat still enough, and waited, things might straighten themselves out somehow. Objects in the apartment wobbled with my fatigue: halos shimmered around the table lamp; the stripe of the wallpaper seemed to vibrate.

Hard Boiled and Hard Luck

Sometimes you go back again to the place you’ve just come from, stop and close your eyes, and realize that not a second has passed, and time just leaves you there, stranded, in the darkness.

The Fellowship of the Ring

I feel thin, sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread.

The Stranger

 At that time, I often thought that if I had had to live in the trunk of a dead tree, with nothing to do but look up at the sky flowing overhead, little by little I would have gotten used to it. 

Life of Pi

I still see him in my dreams. They are nightmares mostly, but nightmares tinged with love. Such is the strangeness of the human heart.

TV Shows

Severance

the grief and loss show of all time. 10/10. don't look it up just watch.

Euphoria

i like this show because it depicts someone whose life just sucks after their dad dies. like she just becomes a worse person with a more unhappy life. real!

Never Have I Ever

people hate this show because the main character is a nasty little pill but i hate to tell you that that is literally what happens when you lose a loved one unexpectedly and traumatically. sorry.

Movies

Eternal Sunshine

captures the surreal nature of forgetting someone you love(d) and knowing exactly what's happening despite being powerless to stop it.

Menashe

truly beautiful and moving film about the utter listlessness of life after loss. if you have ever felt unmoored, this movie is for you. one of the most beautiful soundtracks ever, too.

The Farewell

people were weird about this movie but the final scene where billie is being driven away from her nainai's house is one of the realest things i can remember seeing in a recent movie.

Games

Disco Elysium

just play it. don't look anything up about it just play it immediately.

Life is Strange

people found the dialogue in this stilted but this scene (spoilers) is so true to life especially for the early 2010s.

Comics

for unknown reasons this panel of calvin mourning a raccoon that he found is the ultimate expression of grief - the horror and resignation and dissonance are captured so well in his sunken eyes. i think about this all the time.

[according2thelore]

happy wincest wednesday!!! i really want to pay it forward from the ask you sent me last week and ask what you (both?) think sam and dean's favorite books are! i mostly answered based on what books i had already read, so i'm really curious if in the books you've read you'd have different opinions! if not though (or in addition if you'd like!), i'd love to know what you think their favorite movies are, too :) give dean's favorite medium a moment in the spotlight, too 💖 (@incesthemes)

hi! happy wincest wednesday!

hmm--i think sam has a long, enduring, passionate love affair with the hardy boys and nancy drew books. i think he longs in some ways to be the hardy boys/nancy drew, because they get to solve mysteries and be hypercompetent while also having a secure home environment. in nancy's case, she's popular and has a boyfriend and also gets to explore thick tomes of town lore. they were so easy to find at libraries across america, and super easy to steal/shoplift because of how thin they were.

(dean also makes fun of him by calling him a hardy boy for a long time, i imagine. you also cannot tell me dean would not get an absolute fucking kick out of calling sam "nancy")

i also think that as he gets older, he gets more bitter/disillusioned about both series, but still has a secret fondness for seeing their covers in bookstores.

as he gets older (high school age), sam definitely gravitates towards more gothic, as you mentioned! i think he finds wuthering heights compelling, but can't quite put his finger on it, and never tells dean because dean would make fun of him for liking such a girly book. science fiction/horror novellas are also fun to him (frankenstein, poe, dracula, jekyll, the murders in rue morgue).

we know dean is a closet intellectual at his own choice, so i imagine he steals/lifts books from libraries/stores, and keeps them in the bottom of his duffle. i think a lot of this happens after sam leaves for college and dean suddenly has 80 hours of free time a week now that he's not huffing sam's boxers and staring at him lovingly in the rearview mirror.

in terms of books that they had to read (and inevitably read/reread over and over again as they move to schools that haven't read them yet):

sam likes: tale of two cities by dickens, telltale heart by poe, in cold blood by capote, inferno by dante, to kill a mockingbird by lee, yellow wallpaper by gilman, matilda by dahl sam HATES: romeo and juliet by shakespeare, heart of darkness by conrad, a separate peace by knowles (he hates that he finds himself in gene), tess of the d'urbervilles (bc he also hates he strangely relates to it)

dean likes: in cold blood by capote, hamlet by shakespeare, 1984 by orwell, lord of the flies by golding, and then there were none by christie, count of monte christo by dumas, any western he can get his hands on dean HATES: frankenstein by shelley, a good man by o'conner (HATES IT), catcher in the rye by salinger (it makes him angry that he gets called out), lolita by nabokov (it makes him a little nauseous how much he likes it, he agrees that humbert is a pedophile, but the depth of the "devotion" there makes him ill), dense histories like war and peace/tale of two cities/les miserables, etc.; he hates anything by dostoevsky--he finds the morality to be posturing and tiresome

i think they BOTH love the LOTR series--books and movies. as they both canonically watch GOT together as adults (and considering dean is more into LARPing than he likes to admit) i think they both love fantasy.

dean saw two towers while sam was away at college and has been dreaming nonstop of dying in an epic battle protecting those he loves in heroic and sexy ways like in the battle for helms deep.

but he still mostly refuses to watch the parts with frodo/sam in return of the king because "frodo is annoying" (because he gets uncomfortable and scared when frodo and sam touch foreheads and cry and sam picks up frodo because he can't carry the ring but he can carry frodo, and hearing frodo scream sam's name in agony makes him nauseous)

dean swears he likes LOTR for the fights but sam knows better.

(secretly, i think dean used to read chapters of the hobbit to sam when he was really small. it's the first book john buys him after the fire because john grew up with his own dad reading it to him before he disappeared.)

i think as an adult, dean gravitates towards more crime thrillers. they have clean cut endings, and he likes how the main character is usually a grizzled, alcoholic washup looking for redemption with his estranged wife (he completely cannot relate). he also likes brandon sanderson until he finds out Nerds also like them, so he gives up on them.

and i think sam might gravitate towards nonfiction/realistic fiction/historical fiction. he doesn't want to read about quests, he doesn't want to read about chosen ones, he doesn't want to read about brothers having to watch each other die, he doesn't want to read about how Bad is Always Bad.

bonus: they both read 50 shades after the craze in like 2015, and dean was scandalized to read this in a book while sam was like...this is it? he hits her a couple of times??

i've mentioned this a MILLION times, but i think they both love the die hard movie series. mostly the first one, and mostly dean, but they try to catch the marathons on cable every christmas.

dean loves the lost boys (because COME ON OF COURSE HE DOES!!! little brother and vampires and the good guys win! no moral complexity!), ghost busters, roadhouse, quick and fast murder mysteries with easy solutions, dirty dancing, tombstone, rocky, jaws, and--secretly--little women. he cries like a fucking kid being dragged away from a candy store.

sam loves indiana jones, star trek, friday the 13th (bc if he follows the Horror Movie rules, he and his family are safe!), the rear window, ET, it's a wonderful life (a movie about how your life has meaning even if you think you're making everyone's life worse...come on...), and a million arthouse movies about how life is strange and vulnerable.

they both like/watch together: star wars, bill & ted's excellent adventure, die hard, jurassic park, LOTR, the early 2000 fantastic four movies (they're not good, but they're mindless; dean wants to be johnny storm and sammy would DIE to be reed; dean likes to joke that sam's jessica alba instead), oceans 11

sam doesn't like monster movies anymore. dean doesn't like war movies anymore.

THIS WAS SO MUCH LOL I'M SO SORRY--i have a lot of thoughts about their favourite books/movies apparently! thank you so much for this ask--it was SO FUN to answer, lol! <3

i have texted charlotte and will reblog with her opinions when she responds! (she is busy gworl)

-lizzy

[wutheringmights]

I wanted to read one last book to close out the year, so I shopped through my bookshelf for a small little novel I could read in a few days and ended up pulling out my copy of The Catcher In The Rye by J.D. Salinger (CITR).

I never read CITR in high school. My AP teacher had the privilege of being able to assign us non-state standard readings and took full advantage of it. And in college, professors just assume you've already been forced to read it. But, nope. Not me.

I actually bought my copy many years ago from Goodwill when I lived in [redacted city], then proceeded to forget about it until now. I only mention this because my copy is apparently the UK edition and doesn't have so much as a synopsis on the back. So beyond knowing a little bit about the misinterpreted poem scene and that everyone HATES Holden Caulfield, I had no idea what this book was even about.

And... holy fuck.

This book is AMAZING.

At first, I just thought it was funny. I was enjoying how much of a shit head Holden is, and all the ways he is such a teenager. He's insightful, but draws some of the dumbest conclusions you have ever seen. He thinks he's so suave and cool, and it's so clear that everyone thinks he's a loser. He wants so badly to be thought well of by his peers while not respecting any of them. I love how Salinger writes his narration, how he branches off into little anecdotes about barely related topics.

But at some point, I just got so sad for him. I'm not sure where exactly it hit me, but at some point you can't help but see how tragic he is. He truly is in so much pain and has no idea how to process any of it. He's traumatized and has been failed by every adult in his life. No one is helping him.

But for a character that has such a reputation for being a manipulative man, he really does seem like a child who is scared to grow up. I was surprised to find out that the titular catcher in the rye monologue was about wanting to protect the innocence of other kids. With the way people discuss this kid, you would think he was conspiring to kill, well, John Lennon.

By the end of the story, when he's with Phoebe at the carousel and he's feeling happy for once in his life, I was crying (or as Holden would say, that killed me).

I then proceeded to spend the next twenty minutes staring at the ceiling, just trying to make sense of it all.

It's such a shame that this novel has been so thoroughly marred by its controversy. I tried to talk to my sister about it afterwards, and she just got really hung up about how she always thought Holden Caulfied was a "psycho" and "one-step away from being a school shooter."

Which, no? Did we even read the same book? Are we still talking about the same kid? He's a brat, but he's not out there to hurt anyone one.

I'm not sure how I would have felt about this book had I actually read it in high school. On one hand, I had a hefty respect for classics when I was a teen and would never dare claim that any one of them is terrible or stupid (except The Great Gatsby). But on the other, I think that a teacher that tried to teach this novel as Holden being a character who has profound thoughts and sees through the veneer of polite society (like apparently how it was taught to my brother)... I mean, I would have believed it but adult me certainly doesn't agree.

This book definitely lays a blueprint for Robert Cormier's entire catalogue, and I was obsessed with his books in junior high. So I probably would have inevitably liked CITR.

I'm glad I waited until now to read it. Teenage me wouldn't have understood everything in it. Older and (hopefully) wiser me does, and she will defend Holden Caulfield with her life.

[bookaddict24-7]

REVIEWS OF THE WEEK!

Every week I will post various reviews I've written so far in 2024. You can check out my Goodreads for more up-to-date reviews HERE. You can friend me on Goodreads here.

Have you read any of these? What were your thoughts?

___

305. Kraken's Sacrifice by Katee Robert--⭐️⭐️⭐️

This was OK, kind of forgettable. Someone wrote a short review that just said "I wish this series was written better" and honestly...yes. LOL. There is SO MUCH potential here.

The romance was kind of weird, like the pacing was off. One moment he hates her and then boom--sexy time and suddenly he's in love. I also couldn't stop giggling at the fact that she sees his tentacles and immediately was like, "Yes, that. I want." Listen, I don't want to yuck anyone's yum, but I think it's okay to side-eye the fact that your husband has tentacles that could be used during fun times.

I did like the connection at the end and how communication saved the day. SEE?! Communication can even happen between a human and a Kraken Man. No excuses. But yeah, I liked the ending for this one more than book one, simply because it wasn't drawn out.

I felt really bad for the FMC and how the MMC had to overcome his grief to move forward in his life. She has had a very tragic life (as is alluded to in the beginning and can be seen in her actions throughout the novella).

Overall, this was a short and kinky story that had some spicy spice and had a very interesting dynamic. I think if this had been a bit longer and the characters were a bit more rounded, this would have been a better story.

___

306. Burden Falls by Kat Ellis--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I honestly didn't know what to expect from BURDEN FALLS. At some point, I was convinced it was a vampire story--look, an Apple and Blood? Definitely TWILIGHT coded.

But no, this is a mystery with a haunting mystery, a creepy set of deaths, and a family torn apart by loss. Though it took me a bit to get into this story, I was curious throughout the whole thing and really enjoyed that twist.

I have to give props to Kat Ellis for setting such a great atmosphere. It was described so well that I could see it perfectly in my mind and I imagined myself walking through dying apple orchards, trying to figure out who keeps killing the people who've affected the MC's life in one way or another.

I will say, however, that the romance was a bit expected and predictable. But I wasn't really here for that romance, more for the mystery. BURDEN FALLS was the kind of book that I think would have been fine without the romance. BUT with that being said, I liked that neither of the characters lost themselves to their relationship.

The whole story led up to an explosive reveal and some great scary times along the way, with some pretty haunting descriptions. Definitely a great read for the Fall, especially if you're visiting an apple orchard in a small, haunted town.

___

307. Forgive Me, Leonard Peacock by Matthew Quick--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

TW: Suicide Ideation, Description of SA, Threatened Gun Violence, Depression, Parental Abandonment.

I think if you liked THE CATCHER IN THE RYE, or if you empathized with Holden Caufield, you'll empathize more with this MC and his thought process. One of the things I don't think I'll ever understand about the hate CATCHER gets is that Holden is insufferable. He may be a tough pill to swallow, but that kid was extremely traumatized and in desperate need of therapy.

Much like Holden, this MC is in a very dark place. Everything he does is a cry for help--from his need to be a quiet observer just to not feel lonely, to trying to find a connection in a horrible and misguided way, this MC was on a downward spiral and the person who should have noticed the most was too self-involved to be a parent to him.

I did like, however, that despite the darker moments and the commitment to the coming end, there WERE characters who noticed the MC's mindset. They saw the signs and while the MC would set near-impossible goals for those around him to meet, he missed all of the other signs that people DID notice.

My problem when I read books like this is that I empathize so much with the MC that I almost fall into their mindset--I feel their annoyances, their frustrations, and their feelings of being misunderstood. With this MC, his mind was a very dark place to be in. While there WERE signs of others noticing his mental state, there were also signs that no one noticed. I could see how the MC might have reached this point.

I remember reading somewhere that although everyone's struggle is different, it doesn't change how giant someone's struggle still feels. The world is chaos and there are multitudes of people living truly traumatizing lives, but to a teenager, the end of the world truly DOES feel like the end of the world. This MC may have been rich and may have had freedoms that others his age never had, but his trauma and loneliness, and lack of guidance in his messy world led up to this suicidal and pivotal moment.

By the end of the book, there is little hope. BUT this is also a realistic take because mental health is an ongoing fight for the rest of one's life--especially for a teenager. Every day is a different day and you never know what might come. While the ending isn't the best, it is sadly realistic.

The topic of the gun in this book and how he mentally uses it as a way to get through his day (by quietly threatening the students around him) is a very real problem right now--especially with the school shootings--but I think it's easy to focus on those moments of the story and bypass the SA that he suffers at a young age, which essentially changed him completely.

This book isn't an easy read. It can even be incredibly triggering. But I also think it can be very important. It shows that you never really know what that person beside you is thinking, feeling, or experiencing.

___

308. Hope & Other Punchlines by Julie Buxbaum--⭐️⭐️⭐️

I went through a phase a few years ago where I read a few of Buxbaum's works because they were the type of YA contemporary that had me hooked. While HOPE & OTHER PUNCHLINES had a lot of those things, I think I read this too far after I purchased it. There were certain things in here that made me give this book side eye, but it's fine. Everything is fine.

One of the things that this book definitely had going for it was the very unique approach to 9/11. And let be super clear here: when I read this, I had no idea it was about 9/11, so starting it on that same date 23 years later was not planned.

I think one of the questions a lot of people ask themselves is: Where were you when 9/11 happened? I remember I was in grade 6, hearing about it happening. I remember seeing all of the parents picking us up in a panic, thinking that Canadian schools would be next (which like...why?) and I remember my dad being very worried. And then I remember writing letters to...who? I don't know, but it's very clear in my mind that we wrote letters.

Anyway, I digress. This was such a unique take on the topic. I never even thought about what life must have been like for survivors so many years after the tragedy. Which seems callous, but I was twelve and it has become one of those things in our history that is a fact. But we're sadly at the point where we don't even do a moment of silence anymore. The human consciousness is...sometimes depressing like that.

Man, I am going off base a lot.

The romance in this book was...questionable. The connections between the two characters starts as blackmail, which was very off-putting and icky. Despite that beginning, I liked the characters and parents.

The MMC trying to find out what happened to his dad was honestly heartbreaking. I can't even imagine having that "what if" as such a big part of your identity. I think that was one of my favourite sad moments of this book--him trying to figure out this mystery, while also navigating the complicated relationships around him.

The FMC is one of those characters that had the best intentions, but made not so great choices. I did like that she was empathetic and still carved out her identity despite what the world expected of her.

If you're thinking of reading this, keep in mind that it does explore topics about loss, family, 9/11 and its after effects--such as the health side-effects so many people experienced years later.

___

309. Last One to Die by Cynthia Murphy--⭐️⭐️

Meh.

this book was a blur, but not in a good way. This felt like it needed...more? Why do I care for these characters that are introduced before becoming the victims of the killer?

What was that twist? I know it had been alluded to throughout the book, but I never truly expected it. In a weird way, I would have preferred the very cliched twist.

I do think this book had a lot of potential. There were so many things that could have been done and the way everything came to light at the end would have been really great if it hadn't all been revealed at once. My main issue with LAST ONE TO DIE was that it felt under developed. Like the author was given this book as an assignment and they followed the bare minimum. Give me a more rounded character, give me a reason to care for these victims that we literally JUST met.

And seriously, I know we got an "answer" at the end, but WHY was this killer so obsessed with the MC? It was all just so flat.

I didn't make this one star because there was a lot of potential here. And I was so excited to have found this author because I love YA horror/thrillers. I have already DNFed one other book by this author.

___

310. Ruthless Creatures by J.T. Geissinger--⭐️⭐️⭐️

I had to really suspend my disbelief for this one LOL.

RUTHLESS CREATURES had a spicy and intriguing mystery throughout, but I was stuck on how quickly these two connected, especially when he is this cold and murderous human. I guess there are people out there that can tame the bad boy with their long black hair and curves. Imagine the POWER.

Anyway, I'm glad these two got to live their sexiest best lives.

This was spicy and fun and full of moments that had me giggling. This was the perfect read after reading a few heavier YA novels. I knew from the moment I started it that I was going to enjoy it for what it was. Do I agree with how fast it happened and how she just completely disregards that he's a murderer? Absolutely not. But you know, Fiction™️.

I won't lie, I'm excited to read book two. I LOVED her best friend. She's got the type of personality that would stick with you through life and death. I want to see her fall in love because she's so adamant that it doesn't exist for her. I just know that book is going to have a lot of personality. I also know it'll be hilarious and spicy af.

Anyway, I somehow read the fourth book in this series without realizing it. So, at least I know I've already enjoyed some aspect of this series. Glad I gave this one a shot!

___

311. Spanking Shakespeare by Jake Wizner & Richard Ewing (Illustrator)--⭐️⭐️⭐️

I'm going to be 100% honest with this one: I almost DNF'ed SPANKING SHAKESPEARE. I came so close to not finishing this book, mainly because it was...a lot. The MC is your typical seventeen year-old horny boy and his POV took some time to get used to.

But, I'm glad I kept going because he had some good character growth throughout the story, leading up to a pretty good ending.

And while some of the humour was truly teen boy cringe, there were some genuinely funny moments. A good chunk of the events in this book are told as writing projects by the MC and I liked those retellings more than the actual out of character writing. Despite the cringe honesty, I appreciated the humour in this book. I especially laughed at that last story told in the book.

I also liked how the MC learned about others' experiences in comparison to his own. While his parents definitely do questionable stuff, he learns that there are some kids who would love to have parents like his.

I think this book would have been a very relatable source for teen boys maybe a decade or two ago. There were some pretty important topics discussed and some great moments of self-discoveries that a teen boy might appreciate.

If you want to read this because of that title, expect the humour that comes naturally with that title. But also be prepared for the cringe moments that can only come from a very honest point of view of a horny seventeen year old boy.

___

312. To Be Taught, If Fortunate by Becky Chambers--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

TO BE TAUGHT, IF FORTUNATE is my third Becky Chambers novella and much like the other two I've read, this one does such a great job of exploring humanity. We see it in the decisions the characters make when certain truths come to light, and when they interact to creatures that aren't from Earth.

But in a way, Chamber's novel also reminded me how small we really are in the universe. All that keeps these astronauts connected to their Earthly humanity is a delayed radio signal. I can't even imagine how lonely it must be to know that you're so far away that the people you know would be dead by the time you arrive back home.

I think this book is also a hopeful story of how humanity might treat the world beyond Earth. Preserving life, rather than conquering it? What a concept.

Overall, there is a good and interesting exploration of grief that weighs heavily over the crew. They each, in turn, experience a moment where they disconnect to process the losses they're finally coming to terms with. Even when explaining what the process of goodbye looks like before the mission, the MC keeps it partially private. Grief is a human emotion, but it is sometimes felt better in the dark, even if that could potentially lead to suicidal ideation (in the case of this book)--which is where we see that teamwork come into effect.

By the end, there is this sense of hope but also sadness that permeates the book. A sad hopefulness for a future meant to be lived beyond the story. And that's the beauty of a Becky Chambers book--she'll have you for a moment, but her writing will linger for a while afterward.

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Happy reading!

[insufferableprotagonistpoll]

Round 2

Propaganda why Bella Swan is insufferable:

Feels like low hanging fruit, but characters that are supposed to be self inserts will always be bland boring bad ideas if you want to make a truly interesting character. Especially self inserts that go along with things like stalking and abuse from their love interests for the sake of continuing the story, because it kinda makes them seem like a mannequin who just there to be passed around like the punching bag in super smash bros, you know what I mean

complete bland character that all the boys somehow fall in love with. just gets pushed around by the plot. she's interesting as cardboard while everyone around her is more interesting.

She spends the entirety of three books looking down on others, being completely braindead, worrying that she's old at age 18 for an entire book, has a horror movie pregnancyand birth, and then becomes the most specialist vampire to ever vampire. And through all that her personality and thought processes that she had page 1 of Twilight she has on the last page of Breaking Dawn.

She has the personality of a rock, but for some reason everyone is obsessed with her.

Propaganda why Holden Caulfield is insufferable:

He is obnoxious and sexist and I can't enjoy any of the good things about the book because his narration makes me hate him so much. He's the main character of one of the most popular books of all time and I've never met anyone who liked him, even if they didn't hate him. Made me so upset that I genuinely planned on tearing my copy of the book up. Only reason I didn't is because I forgot to.

Man I just don't like him

He’s whiny and annoying

We all read it back in high school

Everyone is a phoney but him. Whiny, dramatic, egotistical kid.

I had to read this book in high school and I despised holden the whole time. I found his constant complaining and judging people super annoying.

Anti propaganda

[yrrtyrrtwhenihrrthrrt]

Gonna get a little personal for a minute but you know what grinds my fucking gears

Introverts on the Internet.

*note, if you identify with the term introvert but aren't a fucking asshole such as I am about to describe, this isn't about you but rather a larger issue I've observed

Cw: self-harm, substance abuse, mental illness (I'll get there)

I don't know who the fuck decided that a distinction nearly as scientifically baseless as your zodiac sign was such a metric to judge people by but Jesus fucking CHRIST

And you don't see "extroverts" doing this shit. I never once saw a post that was like "Hehe I'm such an extrovert I want to force ALLL my introvert friends out of the house!!! They're so boring and lame and weird" but all the time, ALL THE TIME it's "huehuehue I am an introvert I am morally AND intellectually superior. I hate all my friends and am annoyed when they expect me to show them any care or compassion BUT if they stop including me they are bad friends even though I tell them to fuck off when they invite me places. When strangers say hi to me in public I spit on them. Here's a tiktok I made joking about domestically abusing my roommate for inviting her friends over to our house" like fuck the fuck off???

Ignoring the fact that introvert and extrovert DO NOT MEAN "don't like people" "likes people" (they mean "gets energized from being around/not around people") and ignoring the fact that there's significant debate over whether or not this distinction even actually exists in psychology in the first place and ignoring the fact that many of these "introverts" aren't actually introverts and have undiagnosed mental illness or external circumstances that make social environments stressful (coming from someone mentally ill himself who thought she was an introvert because they had shitty friends and were depressed) can we just like. Leave people the fuck alone and not get mad at other humans for having the audacity to BE FRIENDLY!?!?

And it seeps into EVERYTHING. A depressed person who sits morosely in their room staring at a wall forgetting to eat, reading fucking. Catcher in the Rye over and over and over and cutting themselves is "deep, intellectual, etc." meanwhile a depressed person who goes to clubs because alcohol is the only way they can feel anything and they want so badly to be happy with their friends, blacking out making themselves sick, THAT person is "boring, dumb, not respectable"

How do I know? BECAUSE I WAS BOTH OF THESE DEPRESSED PEOPLE.

NEITHER OF THOSE BEHAVIORS SHOULD BE ENCOURAGED. THEY ARE BOTH SELF HARM. BUT NOBODY SHOULD BE MADE TO FEEL LIKE SHIT ABOUT THEMSELVES FOR HAVING A MENTAL ILLNESS EITHER. FUCK.

If you wouldn't be an asshole to someone for cutting themselves, don't be an asshole to someone for alcohol/drug use. Provide support? Yes! Express concerns, of course! But maybe just think about what you fucking say about strangers when you don't know what's going on in their life.

Context: I saw a post that said "If you need alcohol to have fun you're boring"

If you NEED alcohol to have fun, you are struggling with mental illness and you don't deserve to be called boring for it. Fuck. Rant over.