#fantasy prison band

[originalharmonysalad]

Fantasy Prison Band

via S4tD - Music Reels and Pics (@song4thedeaf) • Instagram-Fotos und -Videos

[aiiaiiiyo]

[tadpolesonalgae]

Venturing[*]

Monster!Rhysand x reader

a/n: monsterrrrrfuckingggggggg how I’ve missed you

warnings: elements of monsterfucking, oral (f! Receiving)

word count: 1,611

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Your lips part invitingly as you stare up in awe at the staggering size of the creature.

“…Rhys…?”

Violet eyes watch from high above, twinkling in the low light of the underground training chamber, used specifically to contain the kind of magic that thrives in his veins. You’d always wondered why they needed the hall to be so vast, but seeing him now, his body so large you have to steeply crane your neck to see him, taller than the majority of buildings in Velaris, you can understand the reasoning.

He seems to almost be made of shadow, something resembling one of those immortal terrors kept locked beneath the distant, misty island of the Prison. Small, blue-black feathers give off a dull light as he moves, powerful muscle shifting beneath what’s likely leathery skin as those towering joints bend backwards, allowing him to descend, paws—you aren’t quite sure what to call them, paws seems too adorable for the talon-tipped terrors before you—folding beneath his elongated snout, watching you idly.

Don’t be scared, he tells you, a faint huff of hot breath unfurling from his nostrils in a laugh, those violet eyes gleaming with amusement and mischief. I’m not, you manage to reply, truthfully. I’m just— you’re very…different…

He pauses at that, the amusement fading into something more serious as he watches you. Have you changed your mind? He asks earnestly, and wild heat swarms your features as you remember the suggestion you’d made…perhaps not entirely thought through on your part. Your head dips a little in embarrassment, and you can practically hear his laughter at your sudden bashfulness. Shadows slide from his dark body, gliding like living fog across the chamber floor, twining up your calves playfully, dipping beneath your skirts as they curiously inch up your thighs. It’s okay if you have, he reassures, I understand I look a little nightmarish, as I am.

But you swallow, that heat growing more intense with the way his beastly eyes run over you, inherently sharp, no matter the softness he’s watching you with. Exposing his more cunning nature that you admit you find appealing. And you’d both agreed you’d be happy to try it, so as long as he’s comfortable…You can definitely feel the arousal that’s soaking your underwear, the hot wetness that’s making it unbearable to keep your clothes on. Fantasy can only take you so far, and now having him truly like this before you—the dizzying need is much more staggering than you had expected.

I was a little caught off guard, you think as your fingers grip the hem of your dress, the small shake in their tips from excitement as your heart pounds, skin hypersensitive as the fabric drags away, baring you to the slightly cool air of the underground chamber. But I hope you didn’t expect that to deter me.

Interest and hunger spark in his darkened violet eyes, shadows coiling closer around your thighs, over the sweep of your hips, twining possessively around your waist as they dip between your legs. You inhale softly as one rolls over your clothed clit, the pressure making your hips want to wind forward, to settle on your knees and rub against the velvety dark tendril…but there’s better in store for you, if you can manage.

“Rhys…” you moan breathlessly, eyes fluttering shut briefly, able to feel the keenness of his attention prickling your skin as it rakes across your body. The shadow retracts enough, and you swallow, eyes reopening to meet his as your fingers hook beneath the band of your underwear, slowly tugging them down over your thighs, past your knees and stepping out of them. Darkness snatches them away to some hidden pocket before you have a chance to scold him—though honestly you’re too aroused to bother.

Slowly you take a few steps towards him, before carefully sliding to your knees, bare skin hyper aware of his attention.

Rhys raises his head from his paws to get a better look at you, violet eyes practically pinning you to your spot on the floor.

“Rhys…” you mumble, heat fluttering wildly in your pussy, already practically dripping onto the floor. “I…want you, still. I’m ready…” You trail off as the shadows snake delicately further up your body, cupping your breasts and skating across your nipples. Your breath hitches as the great beast shifts, snout ever so carefully nudging into you, gently pushing you backwards as the darkness cushions the stone, feeling full and plush beneath your skin.

You meet his eyes, wanting to share this experience as the shadows guide your thighs apart, and he dips closer. Heat liquefies between your legs as his mouth parts, and already you can feel the warmth of his breath brushing against you, even before he sets his tongue to you. Inhaling a slow, steadying breath, your fingers search for the darkness that’s pooling all around, thin tendrils linking with your digits as if he’s holding your hand, and you brace for the feeling.

Lips part, eyes widening as the broad flat of his tongue licks over you, gathering the slick that’s been steadily building and tasting it. A growl rumbles deeply in his chest, pupils expanding in his already darkened violet eyes as the pleasing flavour is swallowed down, and shadows ply your legs wider so he can fit the large, wet muscle over more of you.

Moans swiftly start spilling from your lips, every lick of his tongue dragging across the entirety of your sex, coating the inside of your thighs with gleaming saliva as he laps at a the wetness that’s dripping from your pussy. “Rhys…” you pant, feeling hot and dizzy and so far away from reality, the intensity of the sensations you’ve been fantasising about for so long knocking you clean from your feet, anticipation finally relieved as you meet his beastly eyes. Fuck, he’s so much larger than you are—resting his head on the floor alone put you at eye level.

“Oh, Gods, Rhys…” You pant, back arching as your legs are pulled further, the strokes of his tongue becoming broader and firmer, more certain as he gauges your reactions. Your toes curl, head tipping back as darkness skims across the peaks of your nipples, and fuck, it won’t take much longer.

“Rhys…please…” you beg, flushing hot with pleasure, phantom hands rising from the shadows to twine with your own, to gently pet your hair, to thumb across your breasts and stroke across the delicate planes of your body while the wet heat of his tongue mixes saliva and slick together into an erotic mess. “Gods, I’m—…oh!”

You gasp as the darkness lightly jolts you from the floor, his fangs seamlessly retracting as the lower portion of your body is hoisted inside the hot cavern of his mouth, arms and legs automatically curving and clutching around his snout as his head tips upward, so you’re balanced on the soft skin of his flattened nose.

“Rhys…” you whimper, wild heat making you weak, in awe of how far up in the air you are now he’s raised from the ground, darkness helpfully wrapped around your body like a harness to keep you from falling or toppling into his mouth. But like this, with your legs wrapped around his snout, you’re perfectly spread apart for him, lips sealing around the lower part of your body to create an air-tight environment, and your vision goes a little blurry from pleasure as he creates a gentle suction, hot wetness of his tongue lapping continuously at your cunt, sweeping across your sex hungrily, and you know you’re crying from pleasure.

From this angle you can see how he’s watching you, balanced as you are, and your hands shake as you try to gently stroke against the surprising softness of his skin, fingers trembling as moans spill relentlessly, crying out as the orgasm breaks through your body. Your toes curl, eyes squeezing shut as pleasured noises bubble from your chest, moaning unabashedly from the dizzying heat he’s using to soften your body. The waves pulse and flutter through your muscles with such force you loose grip on reality, falling temporarily into his waiting embrace within your mind.

You were so good, he murmurs tenderly against your temple, held within a quiet, private space that’s only shared between the two of you.

Even if this place doesn’t exist in the real world, you shudder as the aftershocks pass through you, mind stumbling and fumbling as he continues pressing light kisses across your skin, fingers stroking through your hair until your trembling has ceased.

That’s it, he murmurs softly, hand rising to cup your jaw, tilting you to meet his gaze, a faint smile on his mouth and for a moment you can imagine him grinning how he had you before, with you staring down from between his lips, peering into those beastly eyes.

Now that he’s back to usual, you can pick out the glint of mischief in his features. You enjoyed that…a lot, he ventures, an affectionately teasing note in his voice but you can’t manage embarrassment. Instead your hand raises so your fingers can thread through the silky locks of his hair, wanting his mouth closer.

His lips press delicately to your own, and you melt further beneath the touch.

I did, you reply, fatigue evident in your tone. …Did you…?

He smiles against your mouth, pulling you closer to him in this dream-like state you’re wrapped in.

Of course I did, he thinks back, thumb stroking against your cheek. I love when you’re content.

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general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @slut4acotar @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy @decomposing-writer @soph1644 @lilah-asteria @nighttimemoonlover @mrsjna @acoazlove

rhys taglist: @azrielshadows1nger

[familiarscars]

Lost In Control | Bad Omens | CHAPTER 06

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Bad Omens X ex-girlfriend and singer!Reader.

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. You and Noah had a difficult ending but you still need to support each other for the band.

⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). melancholy, ex-boyfriends, difficult relationships, alcohol abuse, swearing, drug addiction, violence.

It's okay to not agree with the characters' attitudes during the fic. It's good to remember that the story is fiction from the author's sick mind and of course they will make dubious decisions according to my fantasies. Nothing is done to be compared to reality.

NOAH

Prisons are noisy.

I went through the security check and was ready for the visit, waiting in a room with several tables where emotional family members awaited their loved ones who could walk through that door at any moment. The minutes on the clock with hands, hanging on the wall in front of me, moved with hypnotizing slowness.

Tick. Tock.

It didn’t take long for her to come, hands restrained by handcuffs and wearing an orange jumpsuit. Not very different from her daughter in physical appearance, even though the daughter was much prettier. I saw her neck stretch as she searched the room for someone she knew, and when she spotted me sitting there waving with a small smile, her posture stiffened.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Crystal barked, sitting in a chair across from me. Without any manners, she didn’t even say good morning.

"I found this in a pile of mail and saw you needed a visit." I signaled with the paper between my fingers. Opportunities rarely landed so easily in my lap, but this one was worth thanking the gods for.

"But it wasn’t your visit I asked for! Where is my daughter?"

"Was there a problem with your watch? You’re nine years late to ask if she’s found a place to live!"

"That’s none of your business!"

"Everything concerning her is my business. Don’t be ridiculous!" I said, loosening my tone slightly.

Crystal looked around uneasily. Her nails were dirty with soil, and she looked sweaty—I guessed it was from the prison’s activities. Clearly, the days here weren’t treating her well, judging by her expression and the size of her dark circles.

"How did you end up here?" I asked, tilting my head to the side. "No… wait! Let me guess! This is definitely your idiot boyfriend's fault, isn't it?

"I need to talk to my daughter," she completely ignored my sarcasm and dragged the chair closer to the table.

"Don’t tell me you’re hoping for her help to get out of here?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

Her silence made it inevitable for me to burst into laughter, shaking my head slowly. Leaning forward, I rested on my elbows on the table to speak as quietly as possible.

"You know when I’ll let you get near her again?" I whispered into her wide eyes. "Do you think I don’t know what you’re trying to do? You realized you’re alone, and she might be your only source of money and a ticket out of here. Only for you to then go after that man and keep ranting about her on social media like a lunatic, giving even more material for the people who hate her to make her life a hell!"

It was impossible not to notice the sudden change in her expression. With me, she could show her true face without hesitation. Playing the victim wouldn’t work.

"And what makes you think you have the right to come here and tell me what to do?" she questioned, lifting her chin as if she were in a position to challenge me. "I don’t think we’re that different when you took advantage of my daughter’s open door to keep destroying the little she had left!"

"EVERYTHING THAT FUCKED HER HEAD UP UNTIL NOW IS YOUR FAULT!" I spat, pointing a finger at her. From the corner of my eye, I saw the guard adjust his position as the conversation escalated. "No matter what I did to fix it, you always seemed to be there like a damn shadow to remind her where she came from!"

"I’m sorry if you wasted nine years of your life, boy."

Suddenly, that sentence felt like a shock through a high-voltage wire, and I stood frozen, staring at the apathetic face of the woman in front of me. I couldn’t say for sure if I had wasted nine years of my life while we were together, when I knew nothing but her. No other feelings, no other touch—nothing that didn’t come from her. All because I refused to live something different, something that didn’t include her, even if it meant facing hell every day.

I blinked a few times and clenched my fists before my thoughts could drag me into a place I couldn’t return from now.

"If it’s up to me, you’ll rot in this place, and I’ll do everything to keep her further away from any news about you."

Crystal swallowed hard, her fingers fidgeting nervously, tensing as my presence loomed over her. I leaned down to leave one last message in her ear.

"And I’m sure you’re still in touch with that boyfriend of yours. Don’t forget to tell him he can’t keep running from me forever," I whispered with satisfaction, hiding a little laugh.

Slowly, I straightened up and looked down at her one last time, seeing her as still as a statue, staring blankly at the table. I stepped back gradually and walked toward the exit, dreaming of the moment I’d finally rid myself of that place with its strange smell.

When I arrived at the studio, the band was in their respective spots, rehearsing on their own. Everyone was laughing at something that quickly lost its charm the moment I crossed the door, as if a dark cloud had invaded their colorful world.

Chewing my gum with more intensity, I hardened my expression as soon as I saw Landon sitting on one of the stools, like an audience interacting with the performance on the small stage in the center of the room.

I didn’t miss for a second that his eyes—and his stupid, unfunny jokes—were directed at one single person, who seemed to find joy in even the wind brushing through her hair. I shot him a brief glare that could have pierced his body while the energy drink can in my palm seemed to disappear under my grip. We worked at the same record label. He was the owner's son and the vocalist of some irrelevant band. Naturally, we didn’t get along.

“You’re late, Noah!” The lone feminine voice broke our eye contact, and I turned to join the others. I didn’t bother looking at her directly, but out of the corner of my eye, I watched her adjusting her guitar while he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

More precisely, off her long, tattooed legs, exposed by a short plaid skirt.

“I’ve got a watch,” I replied.

An awful silence filled the room in seconds, and Folio broke it with a casual drumbeat, a habit whenever we traded jabs.

“And you, Landon?” I asked while checking the microphone setup. “Don’t you have anything better to do? I remember booking this space just for my band today.”

“No one complained about me being here before. We’re just hanging out, chatting, man. Don’t tell me you’re gonna cry about it,” he said, smirking. “Ruffilo was giving me a few tips.”

It felt like my face had been plunged into a tub of lava, the heat rising so fiercely in my cheeks. If the mic stand could talk, it would probably beg me to stop gripping it so tightly.

“I don’t see any problem with Landon watching the rehearsal.” Strangely, she seemed overly agreeable today, her sultry tone almost convincing if I weren’t paying attention. Actually, I knew perfectly well why she was acting so liberally—she was high.

“But I do,” I snapped without taking my eyes off him, still lounging in his seat like he owned the place. “We already have enough issues with band members getting distracted, and the last thing I need is a pest hanging around!”

“Buzzkill.”

I caught a whispered insult from afar, followed by their shared laughter, which only fueled my rage.

Jolly and I exchanged glances, and I was sure he was thinking exactly the same thing I was.

“I won’t ask you to leave again!” If my eyes had the power to kill, his body would have been shattered to pieces by now.

“Okay, okay! See you later...” He stood, shoving his hands into his pockets and shrugging in mock surrender. “Oh, Noah, almost forgot—I’m hosting a little party at my place, just something casual with friends. It’d be cool if you came with the rest of the band.”

And who said we were friends?

“See you there!” Folio shouted from the back of the room.

Landon nodded, and just before leaving, I noticed him brush his hand against hers in a slow enough motion for her to take whatever he handed her and tuck it into her pocket. I took a deep breath as the door shut, leaning my head against the microphone stand with my eyes closed while my bandmates silently gestured to one another to start playing.

“It’s too late…” she began, testing the microphone.

“Stop.”

“What’s wrong?” she asked, throwing her hands up.

“You’re doing it wrong.”

“Okay, okay!” Jolly intervened. “It’s fine; we’ll start over.”

The intro of Take Me First started again, and I saw her clear her throat, straightening her posture as she inhaled through her nose and exhaled slowly through her mouth. Even after all these years, she still warmed up incorrectly, yet her voice seemed to defy every logical explanation, getting better every time despite her doing everything wrong.

Every time she opened her mouth and delivered a line, my mind entered some hypnotic state. My body didn’t care about the destination, as long as she was guiding the journey with her characteristic husky, dramatic tone.

“It’s too late…”

“Stop!” I ordered. “Start again.”

“It’s too late…”

“Stop!” I repeated. “You’re still coming in at the wrong time!”

Her lips trembled as she huffed in frustration, and without saying a word, she excused herself, marching across the room to lock herself in the bathroom.

“Have you lost it? She’s coming in at the right time, according to the new intro!” Jolly snapped, impatient. “If you’re going to nitpick, at least point out real mistakes!”

“Jolly’s right, man. Chugging all that energy drink is probably messing with your chakras!” Folio teased, punctuating his words with a playful cymbal crash.

“Folio, where did you even get the idea that energy drinks can do that?” Ruffilo asked, spinning his neck around with a puzzled expression.

“Let’s continue the rehearsal,” I said over my shoulder, watching them exchange glances.

“But she hasn’t come back yet…”

“If it mattered to her, she’d be here. Let’s go!”

Without questioning, they returned to their positions, and the intro started again. I cracked my neck from side to side before leaning into the microphone. During the opening bars, I closed my eyes, trying my hardest to pretend she was in some parallel space where her shadow couldn’t reach me.

But all it took was opening my eyes to collide with reality.

The bathroom door was still shut.

After practice, everyone grabbed their things and left for their destinations.

I have to admit, I felt betrayed, but screw it.

Lying on the couch in the living room, nothing seemed to hold my attention. I couldn’t watch a movie, couldn’t read, or even jot something down in a notebook because even the sound of the pencil scratching the paper annoyed me. I picked up the guitar and placed it on my thigh, hoping silence might serve as inspiration, and on the first chord, my luck had the string snap.

“Shit.”

I sighed, bored, banging my head against the back of the couch. On the floor, there was a pile of crumpled-up balls of paper from all my failed attempts at composing something. My mind was emptier than my stomach.

“I hope your little party is awful, sweetheart,” I murmured sarcastically to myself. Maybe talking to myself was the last stage before fully surrendering to madness.

The light of headlights in the garage caught my attention through the window. Judging by the incessant chatter, it was the guys—they were laughing and coming inside with parallel conversations and an armful of grocery bags. When I came face-to-face with them, I did a mental roll call, frowning when I noticed someone was missing.

“Huh,” I hesitated, crossing my arms and leaning against the couch. “Weren’t you all at the same party?”

“No, we changed our minds and went to the supermarket,” Ruffilo shrugged, lifting the bags. Suddenly, all the smiles disappeared. “She’s not here?”

My feet went numb, and for a moment, I thought I was floating, the ground vanishing beneath them. What pounded in my chest could easily be mistaken for the echo of a drum, grating against my ears. I didn’t fully understand why, but there was an unsettling itch beneath my skin that spread throughout my body, like a thousand needles piercing all at once.

“Shit.”

“Noah, where are you going?” one of them shouted, but I was already out the door and in the car, turning the ignition with the same speed I left the garage.

I was definitely speeding, but my vision felt too blurred on the city’s narrow streets as I swerved past car after car. The tightness in my chest gripped me diagonally, and I used my finger to loosen the collar of my shirt, trying my best to breathe in slowly and stay focused on the road.

Every time I heard a horn, it had the power to jolt me back to reality, preventing my car from crashing into another on the shoulder. The closer I got to the address, the more my agony escalated, and the harder it became to fight against the paralysis threatening my body.

I parked in the first available spot I found. Cars were haphazardly positioned with no room to maneuver, so I had to vault over a few hoods to get through. Loud music and a dense crowd amidst smoke—the party at Landon’s was so packed and noisy it was impossible to hear my own thoughts. Dodging a few girls drinking and bumping into a guy, I ended up with an entire drink spilled over my hoodie.

He was ready to curse me out but paused when he looked up and smiled.

“Noah? Noah Sebastian?” he squinted, double-checking what he was seeing. “Hey man, would you mind taking a picture with me? My sister loves—”

I didn’t wait for him to finish, turning my back on him, breathless, my heart hammering at a wild rhythm. It felt like I was getting closer.

Instinctively, I decided to head upstairs. On my way, I ran into Landon. He was stumbling over his own feet, wearing star-shaped glasses, nearly collapsing onto me. Luckily, I pushed him off just in time, throwing a punch that sent him sprawling onto the floor, creating a circle in the crowd.

Shaking my fist in the air and ignoring the murmurs, I took the stairs two steps at a time. As I reached the hallway, my insides twisted in dread over what I might find. Kicking open the first door, I found a couple—clean. The second door revealed some people passed out. The third was empty, aside from the mess.

That left me with only one option.

At the end of the hall, there was only one white door, which I assumed was a bathroom. I forced the golden doorknob and found it locked. Panic flared through my body. I slammed my shoulder against the wood, breaking through on the second try.

The music became just a distant echo.

And my heart was on the verge of stopping.

It was impossible not to collapse onto the wet floor beside her as soon as I saw her pale, unconscious body with liquid trickling from her lips. Despite my panic and groans of anguish, I forced myself to check her pulse. I abandoned every rule about not touching her again, cradling her in my arms and thrusting my fingers into her mouth to reach her throat. But there was nothing to pull out, and even if there had been, she was too limp to expel it.

“No. No. No. No,” I repeated in desperation, holding my phone to my ear while dialing emergency services. “Stay with me. Keep breathing. Please. Please. Please!”

I had no idea if I was doing the right things, but I was alone and couldn’t think of anything else besides needing her to come back. Her face was so sunken I could see the blue veins stark against her skin. Her well-shaped lips were dry and cracked, contradicting the increasingly shallow breaths escaping her nose.

“Keep breathing. Keep breathing. Keep breathing,” I kept repeating, pressing my lips to her forehead, feeling something wet and salty transfer between us as the hold music played in my ear. “Please, my little storm.”

The music outside drowned out my cries of pain—not physical, though. My body felt numb, like enduring a long episode of cramps. All the pain was internal, dissolving as I watched her grow colder in my arms.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

⭑ @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard ; @anarchydomainglory ; @iluvmewwwww75

[blouisparadise]

Here are some amazing bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of October. We hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!

1) You Know I Need Your Love | Explicit | 1,016 words

Harry studied him, eyes lingering on the spit dripping from his tongue in a long, cobweb-like string and pooling on Louis’s naked thighs. Louis waited patiently, fighting the urge to fidget or lunge forward, hoping to be good enough to be allowed an orgasm that night.

2) All Eyes On Me | Explicit | 1,019 words

Louis gets fucked by a fucking machine in a room full of people, and he loves every second of it.

3) I Never Come Close | Explicit | 1,032 words

Louis has the day from hell, Harry knows how to make him forget it.

4) Baby, I'm Yours | Explict | 1,076 words

Louis' obsessed with marking Harry.

5) I'm Too Tired To Be Tough | Explicit | 1,250 words

Louis looks after everyone else all the time. Harry decided to look after him for a change.

6) Sleeping To Dream Of You | Explicit | 1,625 words

Louis has plans for some late night activities, and Harry is never one to deny. Written for day 2 of kinktober, prompt: somnophilia.

7) A Morning In The Frathouse | Explicit | 2,418 words

The one where Louis decided to surprise Harry with a wake-up blowie.

8) Babyboy | Mature | 2,581 words

Note: The main pairing is Louis/Liam Payne.  This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

Liam is Louis' daddy.

9) I Wanted You To Share My Life | Explicit | 2,676 words

“Why the fuck would you kiss that guy right in front of me Louis?” “It’s not like you’re my fucking boyfriend, are you?” Louis rolled his eyes.

10) Let's Get Physical | Explicit | 2,995 words

The one where they use a fitness ball inappropriately.

11) Masks And Sweat | Explicit | 3,082 words

Louis goes to a halloween party without many expectations and ends up meeting Harry, the bass player of one of the bands that performed at the party.

12) Love's A State Of Mind | Teen & Up | 3,041 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

“Your omega?” Louis asked softly, trying his best to keep his voice steady. “Hmmm.” Harry smushed his face in Louis’ shirt, his hand moving up to mess with one of the buttons. “He’s great, my omega. He’s kind and passionate and funny, even when he makes jokes about me.” “He- He sounds great, button.” “He is. You are.” What?!

13) Fight Or Flight | Explicit | 3,156 words

Harry and Louis are enemies who play on the same footie team and an argument turns into a physical fight and that into something no one expected, least of all Louis.

14) Hold Me And Explore Me | Explicit | 3,573 words

Louis and Harry are roomies and Louis really needs Harry to kiss and touch him.

15) I Never Knew Somebody Like You | Explicit | 4,148 words

Louise and Harriet are teammates on the ice skating team but they hate each other.

16) I Want Yesterdays Love | Mature | 4,789 words

Note: the main pairing is Louis/Dev Patel.

“We’re going on holiday before the term starts again,” Oli announces in their kitchen the day after the art opening. Louis looks up from his cereal bowl. “Who is we?” “I’ve rented us a cottage near the beach. Me, you, Calvin, Rick, and Dev.” Louis makes a noncommittal noise but can’t deny his heartbeat racing at the mention of Dev.

17) Medicine | Mature | 4,824 words

Louis attends his favorite artist Harry Styles concert in London. Louis has always had fantasies of what would happen if he ever went to one of Harry's shows, and that's what they've always been. Fantasies. But perhaps a fantasy in particular might come true this night.

18) Trick-Or-Treat: Love Is Sweet | Not Rated | 5,053 words

Grumpy Harry & Sunshine Louis go to a Halloween party dressed as Judy Hobbs & Nick Wilde.

19) Metamorphosys | General Audiences | 5,062 words

Childhood best friends where H went to prison protecting L some years ago. He was recently released and has nowhere to go, so he shows up on Louis' doorstep. But the sweet kid he used to be has completely changed due to his imprisonment.

20) Dripping Down Your Body Like Gold |Explicit | 6,657 words

Omega!Louis is a phone sex operator by night and Alpha!Harry (one of his friends) calls him by chance.

21) Cherries And Honey | Mature| 7,556 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Louis is surprised that he doesn't have any cravings while pregnant and that he doesn't feel overly emotional, but he just doesn't notice. Harry does though. Featuring an emotional, demanding, and happy pregnant Louis who unconsciously sends Harry to make or get his current cravings.

22) Another Load | Explicit | 7,857 words

Louis and Harry are engaged and in a dom/sub relationship for the past two years. Together 4. They recently upgraded their washer and dryer. Today the new washer malfunctioned or Lou put one too many items in the wash and an error appeared. Louis was half laying on top of the washer looking down as music fills their house. Harry ran to the store. When Harry returned finding Louis bent over the washer looking obscene by pretty much doing nothing. he knew he needed to do something about it. 

23) Do You Want To Know A Secret? | Explicit | 8,029 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Harry and Louis aren’t hiding their relationship, but everyone always thinks they’re joking when they act it/mention it. Hilarity ensues when they try to tell everyone that they really are together with various things happening that keep people from believing them.

24) Soft Hands Organics - Adore Sensitive Skin | Explicit | 8,243 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

The Ass Worship fic.

25) A Bite Of Love | Explicit | 8,546 words

It was something that had been on his mind more often than not but this Halloween Louis, a clumsy little witch, would get his vampire boyfriend, Harry, to bite him.

26) Haunted By You (And Only By You) | Mature | 8,597 words

Louise works with Harry's advertising company, attends the company's halloween party and things happen that she never imagined. After that party, there's a small change in her life and she is delighted and in love with it.

27) Anything At All (Worse Than Anyone) | Explicit | 9,083 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

The one where they work together and they can't stand each other; Louis doesn't really know why, Harry likes to think he does. But when something unexpected happens at the restaurant, he's forced to admit that he has been wrong all this time— and that he's the only one who's been lying all along between the two of them.

28) It's Cold In Hell ᡣ𐭩 | Not Rated | 9,433 words

Asher was stranded in the middle of nowhere. A truck driver saved his life and the angel with him take it away.

29) Lost In Psychic Dire Straits | Explicit | 10,894 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Through the one way glass, Harry watches as the suspect fidgets, drumming his fingers on top of the table briefly before picking at the skin on his left thumb. A nervous habit, one that makes him prone to shedding DNA all over the place. With any luck forensics will come back with a strong match. “His lawyer or a lawyer?” Harry clarifies. “His lawyer,” Marianne tells him. “Seems like Mr. Tomlinson has spent the better part of the last decade running around trying to convince people he's a psychic. Got enough brains to have an attorney on speed dial, seems like.”

30) Roman Empire | Explicit | 11,111 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

One day Louis answers Liam's phone while he is in the shower. That's how he meets Harry, Liam's friend who moved to Italy just a while ago. And that's how Liam loses ownership of his phone.

31) I’m A Fire, And I’ll Keep Your Brittle Heart Warm | Not Rated | 12,200 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

“You’re doing the best you can, Harry. I can see that. Dory can too,” he says softly, assuringly. Harry’s breath catches in his throat. He’s needed to hear those words, he hasn’t realized till now. Harry meets his gaze once again. In his eyes, he sees that there was something deep there, something genuine, full of understanding. “Thank you,” his voice thick with emotion, “I’m glad he has you now.” Louis brushes his thumb gently over the back of the alpha’s hand. The gesture is all soft and soothing and it made Harry’s heart flutter with so much want. “You could have me too,” Louis whispers as if it was a secret, as if it was not meant to be heard by anyone. But Harry hears it loud and clear.

32) Me And My Husband | Explicit | 19,061 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Where Harry met someone else, leaving behind everything he once built with Louis.

33) Your Handprints On My Hips | Explicit | 19,834 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

When Louis hired someone to paint the exterior of his house, he didn’t expect to be met with a familiar face. Will summer romance be relived or does fate have a way of pulling them apart?

34) You're Not Harry Styles (Or Are You?) | Explicit | 20,116 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Singer Louis Tomlinson finally meets his crush - ex-boybander Harry Styles - on a late night talk show after he recently released a hit single mentioning Harry. They hit it off and fall in love.

35) One, Two Or Three? | Explicit | 21,050 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

It starts with one Louis going on holiday. He spends his well deserved but not welcomed holiday in a resort. He feels a slight embarrassment for having sex with two guys within 48 hours so when he runs in to them, he invents his twin brother to keep things normal (at least in his eyes). Little did he know those men were almost sure he was all alone on this holiday. Both men like him equally and to be honest, he likes them two. Will they end up with just two or with three?

36) Help Me Make It Through The Night | Explicit | 22,828 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

“Be a dear and get that for me,” Liz says. There’s a glint of something mischievous on her face but Louis ignores it, figuring her cold has slowed her down from worrying about answering the door. He heads to the door and opens it. On the other side is one of the most beautiful men Louis has ever seen. He’s a bit taller than Louis and he has broad shoulders. His legs seem to last for days and Louis can tell that he’s muscular, but with a feminine softness in his form. He has short curly hair and his eyes are the prettiest shade of green Louis has ever encountered before. There’s a smile on his face and dimples on his cheeks and Louis kind of wants to dig his finger in the left one. Just poke it a little. The smile on the man’s face dies when he sees Louis. The following silence is uncomfortable. “Louis Tomlinson,” the man says with distaste in his voice. Louis can’t comprehend why he sounds like that. He’s only just met the man… Oh, wait! No. He knows this man. Or he knew him when he was a boy. The man before him is Harry Styles, the boy he and his mates back in school used to bully relentlessly.

37) Don't Make Me Feel Special | Mature | 26,691 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Its only when Harry is chosen for the Triwizard tournament that Louis realizes that his feelings are returned. Make it abo please.

38) God I Love the English | Explicit | 38,572 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

The one where Louis is a singer and Harry is an actor and they enjoy teasing their fans a little too much.

39) Yours To Reign | Explicit | 39,548 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

The Princess Protection Program AU.

40) Easier Than Lying | Not Rated | 49,991 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

“Harry, my dear friend, you don’t want to start a war with Louis Tomlinson, trust me,” Niall seemed serious now, shooting Harry a warning look. He simply rolled his eyes at Niall, “So, what? I’m just supposed to put up with Louis’ incessant need to make me miserable? I don’t think he plans to stop anytime soon.” Talking it out with Louis proved to be futile, so maybe he could give the brat a taste of his own medicine. There was no guarantee that it would work, but it couldn’t hurt to try.

41) Student of the Year | Not Rated | 52,868 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Life is unpredictable and so is the story between Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles. Featuring fights, prank wars, sweetness, friendship, sex and a healthy dose of a heartbreaking competition.

42) I Am Br(ok)en | Explicit | 53,180 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Harry is a 28 year old Alpha who just got his heart broken by his long-term boyfriend. What happens when he meets Louis, a 30 year-old omega who is the spitting image of his ex? Sparks fly and hearts get on the line... Will Harry be able to understand his feelings before it's too late and he loses everything?

43) Sharp As Sugar, Sweet As Spice | Explicit | 60,270 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Louis loves his life. He’s got great friends, endless hookups, everyone loves him, and he’s a top student set to graduate with a medical degree. When he meets Harry by chance one day, he expects it to just be a sneaky blowjob with a hot dad—it ends up being anything but that, well, except for the DILF part, that’s most definitely the case.

44) Forget Me Not | Explicit | 99,608 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

After a life altering car crash steals the last five years of Louis Tomlinson's memory, he returns from the hospital to an unfamiliar life that leaves him feeling inconsequential. An accidental run in with single father, Harry Styles, and his adorable pup, Elliot, make Louis question his desires, his dreams, and his fears. Eventually, he's forced to read between the lines and wonder... Has his forgotten past been that far away all along? Or have the answers been just beyond his reach all this time?

45) If I Cannot Bend Heaven, I’ll Rise Hell | Explicit | 109,110 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

It blooms: In 1807, a boy falls for the wrong monster. It eats: In 1969, omegas began to disappear as rumors of the rising of a cannibalistic cult spread like wildfire. It grins: Now, one of the most powerful vampires of the West sits down for an interview to reveal all his sins. “Exodus 7:14-11:10, right before he sent the plagues, he said to Moses; ‘By this you will know that I am the Lord.’.” The vampire said with the ghost of a smile, small, almost intimate. “How can you annihilate something that you cannot touch, something you cannot see? How can you fight against a hungry God?"

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

[gay-disabled-characters-showdown]

LGBTQ+ Disabled Characters Showdown Round 2, Wave 2, Poll 11

A character being totally canon LGBTQ+ and disabled was not required to be in this competition. Please check qualifications and propaganda before asking why a character is included.

Check out the other polls in this wave and prior here.

Hermann Gottlieb-Pacific Rim

Qualifications/Propaganda:

He uses a cane and is commonly shipped with Newt Gieszler. One of the better parts of Pacific Rim. If drift compatible why not gay.

Wylan Van Eck-Six of Crows

Qualifications:

Wylan has dyslexia (heavily implied, but not outright said bc setting) and is gay,

Dyslexic and gay!

They are in a adorable m/m relationship, and also have severe dyslexia to the point that (when eight) he could not read or write despite formal education

Wylan is gay and dyslexic!

Propaganda:

Wylan and Jesper have the absolute cutest relationship. Also, Wylan has dyslexia. I don't think it was outright said, but that was heavily implied. It just couldn't be set out loud for the sake of maintaining the fantasy setting. He's such a good character, and is primarily known for his skill with explosives, not his struggles with reading and writing. The other protagonists also never judge him for it, and the only character who does is the kind of person 90% of readers want to kill by the end of the series.

His boyfriend Jesper helped him fake being able to read so they could beat Wylan's shitty dad.

- He's incredibly sweet - But can also be ok with murder sometimes, like when killing unconscious people wasn't good - so just wake them up. - He was thrown out of the house and his father tried to kill him, because of said dyslexia, but managed to survive. Then rebelled against his father and with the help of friends took down his empire - He is very talented at the flute. And can draw very well, along with being a great chemist and demolition experts (hired for making flash bombs and other cool shit-) - Helps break into a world-class prison, then blushes the entire time because the person he's pared with keeps flirting with him - Asks his (eventual boyfriend) if he's into guys. Then immediately gets flustered when Jesper picks it up - Is very rich heir (due to shenanigans) and there's a one-off line about this sweet bean kind of being a sugar daddy- (just gives his boyfriend money to do stocks with, to stop him from gambling) - Supports his boyfriend throughout his gambling addiction and tries to help him overcome it

Wylan is dyslexic and because of this written off as stupid by his father. However, he is actually a genius, especially with chemicals, and he uses his genius and his new band of misfit friends to take his father down and read him for filth in front of a whole bunch of important people. He is good at making things explode. He also nabs himself a hot boyfriend in the process so good for him!

The qualifications and propaganda paragraphs correspond, @wisheduponastar is the third submitter.

[starrynightsoversunflowers]

I made a rec list for Latin American books that have queer themes

*DISCLAIMER: "Queer" is not a theme per se. Sometimes it's about identity, sexuality, love, horror, violence, etc. All happening around queer characters.

Most of these deal with pretty heavy themes: prostitution, rape, violence, aids, death. Some representations can be considered "problematic" if you're boring. There are different ways to approach queerness.

Feel free to yell at me about these books/ask where to read them/make recommendations/etc. I definetly have favourites. Also some have movie adaptations.

Descriptions and warnings under the cut

La condesa sangrienta (The bloody countess):

The story of countess Erzebeth Báthory, a medieval hungarian countess know for committing more than 650 murders and inspiring the figure of the vampire. There´s no explicit queer relationships here but there´s absolutely some homoerotism in the narrations of torture. Pizarnik was a lesbian also. TW: disturbing, torture, blood, murder, you should not read this in one go.

El lugar sin límites (Hell has no limits):

The story about la Manuela, a homosexual transvestite that owns half a brothel in a small town. Her daughter owns the other half. The novel shows crudely the misery of forgotten towns and the day to day life of prostitution. There's also a movie. TW: prostitution, murder, homo/transphobia.

El mundo alucinante (A Hallucinations):

A fantasy and free version parody of the Memoires of Fray Servando Teresa de Mier. Known for the uses of magical realism and innovative prose.

Cobra:

Two stories meet. The first is of Cobra, a transvestite, and her transformation. The second of her initiation in a band of black jackers. Erotism and death.

Evita vive (Evita lives):

A controversial book around Eva Perón (after her death) who lives among prostitutes and homosexuals, having orgies and living a life of debauchery.

El beso de la mujer araña (The kiss of the spider woman):

The meeting of two prisoners living in the same cell. One, Valentín, is a political prisoner and the other, Molina, is a sexual deviant. During their weeks there, Molina narrates movies to Valentín and their relationship develops. There's also a movie.

Stella Manhattan:

During Brasil's military dictatorship, the apolitical Eduardo, a.k.a. Stella Manhattan, is expelled form his country for his shameful homosexuality. He returns to the surface as a brazilian counsil in New York and is immediately accosted by a military called Colonel Vianna, a sadomasichist known as the "Black Widow", and by the guerrillas seeking his befall.

Antes que anochezca (Before night falls):

Th 7th of december of 1990 the Cuban author Reinaldo Arenas, in a terminal phase of AIDS, would commit suicide, leaving behing this moving and political testimony, which he finished mere days before taking his own life.

Salón de belleza (Beauty salon):

In a large, unnamed city, a strange, highly infectious disease begins to spread, afflicting its victims with an excruciating descent toward death, particularly unsparing in its assault of those on society's margins. Spurned by their loved ones and denied treatment by hospitals, the sick are left to die on the streets until a beauty salon owner, whose previous caretaking experience extended only to the exotic fish tanks scattered among his workstations, opens his doors as a refuge. In the ramshackle Morgue, victim to persecution and violence, he accompanies his male guests as they suffer through the lifeless anticipation of certain death, eventually leaving the wistful narrator in complete, ill-fated isolation.

Bajar es lo peor (Going down is the worst):

With gothic resonances, Enríquez shows crudely the Buenos Aires of the 90's. The confinement and the paranoia of cocaine, sex as a means to escape or survive, political unbelief, mix with a romantic love that never reaches satisfaction. There's also a movie. TW: drugs, prostitution, rape, suicide.

Loco afán (Mad eagerness):

These "chronicles of aids" narrate stories of homosexuality in Latin America, focused on drag, transvestites and AIDS.

Sirena Selena vestida de pena:

Discovered by Martha Divine in the backstreets of San Juan, picking over garbage, drugged out of his mind and singing boleros that transfix the listener, a fifteen year old hustler is transformed into Sirena Selena, a diva whose uncanny beauty and irrisistable voice will be their ticket to fame and fortune. Auditioning for one of the luxury hotels in the Dominican Republic, Selena casts her spell over Hugo Graubel, one of the hotel's rich investors. Graubel is a powerful man in the Republic, married with children. Selena, determined to escape the poverty and abuse s/he suffered as a child, engages Graubel in a long seduction in this mordant, intensely lyrical tragi-comedy - part masque, part cabaret - about identity (class, race, gender) and "the hunger and desire to be other things."

Tengo miedo torero (My tender matador):

It is the spring of 1986, and Chilean dictator Augusto Pinochet is losing his grip on power. In one of Santiago’s many poor neighborhoods, a man known as the Queen of the Corner embroiders linens for the wealthy. A hopeless and lonely romantic, he listens to boleros to drown out the gunshots. Then he meets Carlos, a young, handsome man who befriends the aging homosexual and uses his house to store mysterious boxes and hold clandestine meetings. And as the relationship between these two very different men blossoms, they find themselves caught in a revolution that could doom them both. There's also a movie.

Adiós mariquita linda (Goodbye pretty pansy):

Chronicles of ire, delation, passion, resentment and loves. Stories of different cities and travels.

Sexografías (Sexographies):

In fierce and sumptuous first-person accounts, renowned Peruvian journalist Gabriela Wiener records infiltrating the most dangerous Peruvian prison, participating in sexual exchanges in swingers clubs, traveling the dark paths of the Bois de Boulogne in Paris in the company of transvestites and prostitutes, undergoing a complicated process of egg donation, and participating in a ritual of ayahuasca ingestion in the Amazon jungle--all while taking us on inward journeys that explore immigration, maternity, fear of death, ugliness, and threesomes. Fortunately, our eagle-eyed voyeur emerges from her narrative forays unscathed and ready to take on the kinks, obsessions, and messiness of our lives. Sexographies is an eye-opening, kamikaze journey across the contours of the human body and mind.

Los topos (The moles):

The son of missing persons of the Dictatorship casually meets a half-brother who poses as a transvestite to investigate ex repressors and cops.

La virgen cabeza (Slum virgin):

When the Virgin Mary appears to Cleopatra, she renounces sex work and takes charge of the shantytown she lives in, transforming it into a tiny utopia. Ambitious journalist Quity knows she’s found the story of the year when she hears about it, but her life is changed forever once she finds herself irrevocably seduced by the captivating subject of her article.

Falsa liebre (False hare):

The darkness at the port engulfs everything. Pachi and Vinicio go deeper into the beach, approaching an improvised party. They are looking for something to numb their bodies, something to finally erase themselves. Summer has been long, and that day was much worse. Not far from there, Zahir fantasizes about his next travel to the capital city or the northern part of Mexico, away from the aunt who keeps asking him for money, controls him through physical violence, and has driven his little brother, Andrik, to run away from the family home and end up in another: a man’s house, who caresses Andrik and then strikes him with the same hand. Now Zahir must not only convince Andrik to start a new life, but make sure they find a way out of that seemingly endless beach. TW: rape, prostitution, violence.

Ladrilleros (Brickmakers):

Oscar Tamai and Elvio Miranda, the patriarchs of two families of brickmakers, have for years nursed a mutual hatred, but their teenage sons, Pájaro and Ángelito, somehow fell in love. Brickmakers begins as Pájaro and Marciano, Ángelito’s older brother, lie dying in the mud at the base of a Ferris wheel. Inhabiting a dreamlike state between life and death, they recall the events that forced them to pay the price of their fathers’ petty feud. The Tamai and Miranda families are caught, like the Capulets and the Montagues, in an almost mythic conflict, one that emerges from stubborn pride and intractable machismo. Like her heralded debut, The Wind That Lays Waste, Selva Almada’s fierce and tender second novel is an unforgettable portrayal of characters who initially seem to stand in opposition, but are ultimately revealed to be bound by their similarities. TW: violence.

Cuerpo a tierra (Body to the ground):

We aren't always owners of our own decisions, sometimes we´re pulled by an irrecognizable impulse and, sometimes, the only truth is that of the body. Betrayal and deception, love and heartbreak, love and search are the protagonists of these stories.

Temporada de huracanes (Hurricane season):

The Witch is dead. And the discovery of her corpse has the whole village investigating the murder. As the novel unfolds in a dazzling linguistic torrent, with each unreliable narrator lingering on new details, new acts of depravity or brutality, Melchor extracts some tiny shred of humanity from these characters—inners whom most people would write off as irredeemable—forming a lasting portrait of a damned Mexican village. There will be a movie by the end of the year. TW: rape, paedophilia, prostitution.

Pelea de gallos (Cockfight):

Ampuero sheds light on the hidden aspects of the home: the grotesque realities of family, coming of age, religion, and class struggle. A family’s maids witness a horrible cycle of abuse, a girl is auctioned off by a gang of criminals, and two sisters find themselves at the mercy of their spiteful brother. With violence masquerading as love, characters spend their lives trapped reenacting their past traumas. Heralding a brutal and singular new voice, Cockfight explores the power of the home to both create and destroy those within it. TW: rape, incest, violence.

Las aventuras de la China Iron (The adventures of China Iron):

1872. The pampas of Argentina. China is a young woman eking out an existence in a remote gaucho encampment. After her no-good husband is conscripted into the army, China bolts for freedom, setting off on a wagon journey through the pampas in the company of her new-found friend Liz, a settler from Scotland. While Liz provides China with a sentimental education and schools her in the nefarious ways of the British Empire, their eyes are opened to the wonders of Argentina’s richly diverse flora and fauna, cultures and languages, as well as to the ruthless violence involved in nation-building.

Mandíbula (Jawbone):

Fernanda and Annelise are so close they are practically sisters: a double image, inseparable. So how does Fernanda end up bound on the floor of a deserted cabin, held hostage by one of her teachers and estranged from Annelise? When Fernanda, Annelise, and their friends from the Delta Bilingual Academy convene after school, Annelise leads them in thrilling but increasingly dangerous rituals to a rhinestoned, Dior-scented, drag-queen god of her own invention. Even more perilous is the secret Annelise and Fernanda share, rooted in a dare in which violence meets love. Meanwhile, their literature teacher Miss Clara, who is obsessed with imitating her dead mother, struggles to preserve her deteriorating sanity. Each day she edges nearer to a total break with reality. TW: violence, cannibalism.

Las malas (Bad girls):

A trans woman's coming-of-age tale about finding a community among fellow outcasts. Born in the small Argentine town of Mina Clavero, Camila is designated male but begins to identify from an early age as a girl. She is well aware that she's different from other children and reacts to her oppressive, poverty-stricken home life, with a cowed mother and abusive, alcoholic father, by acting out-with swift consequences. Deeply intelligent, she eventually leaves for the city to attend university, slipping into prostitution to make ends meet. And in Sarmiento Park, in the heart of Córdoba, she discovers the strange, wonderful world of the trans sex workers who dwell there. Taken under the wing of Auntie Encarna, the 178-year-old eternal whose house shelters this unconventional extended family, Camila becomes a part of their stories-of a Headless Man who fled his country's wars, a mute young woman who transforms into a bird, an abandoned baby boy who brings a twinkle to your eye. TW: rape, prostitution, transphobia, murder, child death.

Nuestra parte de noche (Our share of the night):

A young father and son set out on a road trip, devastated by the death of the wife and mother they both loved. United in grief, the pair travel to her ancestral home, where they must confront the terrifying legacy she has bequeathed: a family called the Order that commits unspeakable acts in search of immortality. For Gaspar, the son, this maniacal cult is his destiny. As the Order tries to pull him into their evil, he and his father take flight, attempting to outrun a powerful clan that will do anything to ensure its own survival. But how far will Gaspar’s father go to protect his child? And can anyone escape their fate? Moving back and forth in time, from London in the swinging 1960s to the brutal years of Argentina’s military dictatorship and its turbulent aftermath.

Tesis sobre una domesticación (Thesis about a domestication):

A single transvestite is enough to undermine the foundations of a house, to untie the knots of compromise, to break a promise, to give up a life. The familiy clings to brief moments of happiness without noticing it´s been defeated since the start.

La hija única (Still born):

Alina and Laura are independent and career-driven women in their mid-thirties, neither of whom have built their future around the prospect of a family. Laura is so determined not to become a mother that she has taken the drastic decision to have her tubes tied. But when she announces this to her friend, she learns that Alina has made the opposite decision and is preparing to have a child of her own. Alina's pregnancy shakes the women's lives, first creating distance and then a remarkable closeness between them. When Alina's daughter survives childbirth – after a diagnosis that predicted the opposite – and Laura becomes attached to her neighbor's son, both women are forced to reckon with the complexity of their emotions, their needs, and the needs of the people who are dependent upon them. TW: child disease, family violence.

Huaco retrato (Undiscovered):

In an ethnographic museum in Paris, Gabriela Wiener is confronted with her unusual inheritance. She is visiting an exhibition of pre-Columbian artefacts, the spoils of European colonial plunder. As she peers through the glass, she sees sculptures of Indigenous faces that resemble her own - but the man responsible for pillaging them was her own great-great-grandfather, Austrian colonial explorer Charles Wiener. In the wake of her father's death, Gabriela begins delving into all she has inherited from her paternal line. From the brutal trail of racism and theft that Charles left behind to revelations of her father's infidelity, she traces a legacy of abandonment, jealousy and colonial violence, in turn reframing her own struggles with desire, love and race. Seeking relief from these personal and historical wounds, Gabriela turns to the body and desire as sources of both constraint and potential freedom.

Sacrificios humanos (Human sacrifices):

An undocumented woman answers a job posting only to find herself held hostage, a group of outcasts obsess over popular boys drowned while surfing, and two girls suspect sinister behavior from the missionaries lodging in their home. Simultaneously terrifying and exquisite, Human Sacrifices is "tropical gothic" at its finest. Ampuero considers the decay and oppression beneath the surface of our humid and hostile world, where those on the margins must pay the price for the comfort and safety of the elite. These twelve stories contemplate the nature of exploitation and abuse, illuminating the realities of those society consumes and leaves behind.

Soy una tonta por quererte (I'm a fool to want you):

In the 1990s, a woman makes a living as a rental girlfriend for gay men. In a Harlem den, a travesti gets to know none other than Billie Holiday. A group of rugby players haggle over the price of a night of sex, and in return they get what they deserve. Nuns, grandmothers, children, and dogs are never what they seem. These 9 stories are inhabited by extravagant and profoundly human characters who face an ominous reality in ways as strange as themselves.

Las indignas (The unworthy):

A searing, dystopian tale about climate crisis, ideological extremism, and the tidal pull of our most violent, exploitative instincts. TW: death, animal death, rape, cults.

[queereads-bracket]

Queer Adult SFF Books Bracket: Round 1

Book summaries and submitted endorsements below:

The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern

Zachary Ezra Rawlins is a graduate student in Vermont when he discovers a mysterious book hidden in the stacks. As he turns the pages, entranced by tales of lovelorn prisoners, key collectors, and nameless acolytes, he reads something strange: a story from his own childhood. Bewildered by this inexplicable book and desperate to make sense of how his own life came to be recorded, Zachary uncovers a series of clues—a bee, a key, and a sword—that lead him to a masquerade party in New York, to a secret club, and through a doorway to an ancient library hidden far below the surface of the earth. What Zachary finds in this curious place is more than just a buried home for books and their guardians—it is a place of lost cities and seas, lovers who pass notes under doors and across time, and of stories whispered by the dead. Zachary learns of those who have sacrificed much to protect this realm, relinquishing their sight and their tongues to preserve this archive, and also of those who are intent on its destruction. Together with Mirabel, a fierce, pink-haired protector of the place, and Dorian, a handsome, barefoot man with shifting alliances, Zachary travels the twisting tunnels, darkened stairwells, crowded ballrooms, and sweetly soaked shores of this magical world, discovering his purpose—in both the mysterious book and in his own life.

Fantasy, portal fantasy, metatextual, adult

The Heretic's Guide to Homecoming series (Book 1: Theory, Book 2: Practice) by Sienna Tristen

Endorsement from submitter: "Part travelogue, part coming of age, this has a really intense focus on the main character's personal growth, with a backdrop of an entire continent's worth of new cultures to explore."

“Life is transformation. You change or you die.”

Ashamed of his past and overwhelmed by his future, Ronoah Genoveffa Elizzi-denna Pilanovani feels too small for his own name. After a graceless exit from his homeland in the Acharrioni desert, his anxiety has sabotaged every attempt at redemption. Asides from a fiery devotion to his godling, the one piece of home he brought with him, he has nothing.

That is, until he meets Reilin. Beguiling, bewildering Reilin, who whisks Ronoah up into a cross-continental pilgrimage to the most sacred place on the planet. The people they encounter on the way—children of the sea, a priestess and her band of storytellers, the lonely ghosts of monsters—are grim and whimsical in equal measure. Each has their part to play in rewriting Ronoah’s personal narrative.

One part fantasy travelogue, one part emotional underworld journey, The Heretic’s Guide to Homecoming is a sumptuous, slow-burning story about stories and the way they shape our lives.

Fantasy, metanarrative, secondary world, series, adult

[notsocooljess]

people i’d like to get to know better

thanks for the tag @atelierlili 🫶🏼🫶🏼

last song: i fell in love with princess peach - hot mulligan

last book: normal people by sally rooney (it’s been a minute since i’ve had time/motivation to read)

last movie: harry potter and the prisoner of azkaban

last tv show: maid

sweet/spicy/savory: at the moment, sweet

relationship status: happily with my boyfriend for 6.5 years and hoping for a status upgrade sometime soon

last thing googled: election results hahaha i’m not stressed at all

current obsessions: everlark (always), conch piercings, fantasy football, the dip (band)

looking forward to: this election being over so my anxiety can hopefully return to a normal level

tagging: @mage-chocolate @bbrooklynbabe @liberalk1tsch or anyone who wants to join!

[hernakedmuse]

"It hurts monkey, aches so much..." her plush lips with smudged Revlon's black cherry were inviting, speaking spells of desire like a nymph luring a band of warriors into a trap.

In only his Metallica tee, her plush, gooey thighs were spread open to reveal red lace that didn't quite fit, that disappeared between her puffy, dripping folds. It was better than any penthouse centerfold and something better than any lewd fantasy Eddie conjured about his friend.

Icing sweet, gooey slick was drooling from her gummy pink slit, pooling on his well overdue for laundry day sheets. It was a wet dream come to life and his boner was pointing north and straining against his zipper like a prisoner.

He could only be patient for so long, and what were friends for?

[autumnslance]

FFXIV Write 2024: 19 Taken

(Violence, fantasy racism, kidnapping, death)

His side twinged, but he winced and kept tracking his quarry. It was not difficult, given their vehicles and the way they marched the troops and their prisoners.

A surge of anger rolled through him and he pressed on, the pain in his side forgotten. It had been his own fault, when his mentor had pushed him out of the way of the attacking soldiers. It had saved his life, but his mentor’s had been lost.

Along with most of the village they protected; the warders had failed. His shame in surviving could only be alleviated by finding the children that had been taken.

In the smoldering wreckage he had found his dying mother. She had weakly cried out for his sibling, using their diminutive nickname for the child—Ijna. When he made his occasional visits to the village—as a young man, he made more frequent trips than his elders tended to—he would be sure to visit his mother, and had been fond of Ijna, with skin as coal-dark as Mother’s. Their dark hair had turquoise streaks to match their bright eyes. A small, slight child, but he had once been, too, and had often assured the little one that someday they would grow as large and strong as himself—perhaps moreso, if they were a girl.

His sibling was among those stolen.

His nose caught the stench of ceruleum. His lips twisted in a snarl and he took to the tree branches.

The chief had defied the imperial officers who came to make demands, and the warders had harried them. They thought they had made the Garleans leave their valley. They had been terribly wrong, as the invaders had returned in force.

He did not know what he would do, when he rescued the children. He would figure that out once safely away from the camp.

They had stopped for the night, a pavilion set up for the officers to dine and sleep in. Troops who were not attending to their superiors patrolled the perimeter, or guarded the vehicle where the children huddled. They had been allowed to relieve themselves in a trench, and given some rations to eat the same as the soldiers. Then returned to the bed of the truck, where they huddled together for comfort and warmth under not enough thin blankets.

“Wretched little beasts,” one of the soldiers under his chosen branch said to a fellow. “And the Praefectus thinks they can be citizens?”

The other shrugged. “That’s the Emperor’s idea. If they will not submit, make them wish they had, as one way or another, they will be civilized. These brats shouldn’t be as feral as the adults, and there’s a school where they’ll be tamed of their savage ways.”

The first made another derogatory sound. “Even so, no one will mistake them for anything but beasts with those ears.” The two laughed and continued on their patrols.

He grit his teeth and waited.

Eventually the camp settled in for the night. There were soldiers taking their turn at patrol, at guarding the children. They were more lax than they could have been, thinking they had dealt with all of the village’s adults.

He handled the wandering patrols first, with careful, silent arrows for the first, and a dagger across the throat of the second. The high collars of their lightly armored uniforms, in addition to the rounded helms they wore, made it difficult, but there was hardly any sound, and no one came to investigate. He deposited the bodies in the woodline and crept toward the truck.

The children heard him coming, even if their Garlean guard did not. He gestured for them to keep quiet, uncertain if they could see him in the dark. Even silent, their stirring and looking around put their guard on alert. He would have to be swift. He drew his bow and—

A light snapped on, blinding him as he was exposed. “I knew it!” one of the officers growled. “Kill him, and search for more! He may be a scout for a war band!”

They were already firing their weapons as he dashed into the woods. The children screamed and shouted, their guards yelling at them. His ears picked up Ijna’s particular keening cry before it was cut off, the child struck by a guard.

A bullet hit his calf, another his bicep, and one tore a long graze along his side. He cried out as pain erupted through him and he fell, tumbling down a bank, bruised and cut from the fall. The soldiers were above him, he had to move but gods help him everything not bruised was on fire, and his older injury had reopened.

“Been awhile since I’ve been on a rabbit hunt,” a distant voice said, cruel laughter answering.

He tried to crawl forward, into the thorny bramble and the swift stream he heard on its other side. He had to get away, had to heal, had to pick up the trail later and find the children. He owed it to his mentor, he had promised his mother…

More gunshots, more fiery pain blooming across his body. His blood flowed freely, pooling around him, his leathers and green clothes stained. He couldn’t move, no matter how he wanted to.

He had failed.

Boots tromped close. His vision faded.

“Ijna, I’m sorry,” he tried to say, hardly enough breath for it.

“Damned savages,” a soldier said, pressing the muzzle of a weapon against his head.

[clickerflight]

The Price of War - Part 1: Field Medicine

Author's note: New storyyyyyyy! Below I have tagged all of my active whump story taglists including the story I just finished so people can see if they're interested in reading this story. If you want to be added to the tag list, let me know in the comments or sending in an ask. You will not be tagged in future parts unless you tell me you want to be.

Masterlist

Content: Elf whumpee, minotaur carewhumper, manhandling, abdomen injury, fantasy racism, passing out

.......................................

Alo’ad huffed, falling back behind the other members of his war party. He wasn’t as big as them, so keeping up with them was harder after hours of trekking through the thick woods while the elves attacked them over and over again, trying to get them surrounded. 

Due to the leader of the party, Underar, having superior wood lore under his belt, they had made it this far relatively unscathed. In fact, they had the elves on the run now which was the only reason Alo’ad allowed himself to slow down. That and any other minotaur that was hurt could slow down and get some healing from the half-taur now that it was safer to do so. 

Alo’ad stretched his arms, looking for Taurs that had fallen behind or collapsed because of an unnoticed injury. 

He smelled blood in the air and snuffled, trying to find it quickly. It smelled dangerous, whatever wound it came from. 

He ducked his head a little, his short horns brushing under a branch as he stepped through the last of the tall grass in the clearing. 

The tree the branch belonged to loomed overhead, and at the roots sat a man. A small elf, thin and willowy though as short as any of his kind, clutching at a deep wound in his abdomen. 

The elf’s eyes went wide, long ears tipping down and pinning in his long pale hair as he drew in a short breath. 

Alo’ad moved quickly, grabbing the elf by the face and gently pinned his head to the tree. The elf whimpered, Alo’ad’s hand, while smaller than a full Taur’s hand, was still big enough to almost entirely cover the elf’s face. 

Alo’ad looked over his shoulder, making sure he was crouched far enough that no one in the war party would be able to see him. If the elf was heard or spotted they would take him back to camp to interrogate him. They wouldn’t torture him, but it would be torture as his wounds  would be left unattended. And he would die before he could tell them anything interesting. 

No, that would be a waste of life, and Alo’ad had been taught by his human father, against Taur culture, that life was endlessly valuable. Even that of the enemy. His mother had rolled her eyes at such claims, but she never stopped old Hesikaia from teaching their son such things, a soft look in her eyes as she watched her husband do so. 

Alo’ad reached into his pack, ignoring the elf’s scrambling fingers, slick with blood, on his wrist. 

He pulled out a small satchel full of poultice soaked pads and pulled one out, gently tugging the elf’s war tunic up out of his belt before applying the pad to the wound. 

The elf tensed under his fingers, small hands grabbing at his wrist, though he was no longer fighting back. 

Alo’ad didn’t dare make much noise, so he leaned in and whispered, “Please be quiet. If they hear you, you will be taken prisoner. Understand?”

The elf sat there frozen before tapping twice, the common sign for yes. 

Alo’ad released the elf’s face, who took a deep breath, eyes wide, but he did not scream. 

Alo’ad nodded and turned his attention to the wound, lifting the pad to check the damage. It was deep, but it did not smell of bile like it would if any organs had been ruptured. 

The half-taur grunted, happy enough as he replaced the pad, grabbing the elf by the upper arm to lift him away from the tree, reaching into his pack for bandages to wrap around the elf’s stomach. 

The elf squirmed a little, opening his mouth, but one stern look from Alo’ad quieted him. 

The elf stilled as Alo’ad finished wrapping the bandages, pinning it with a long thorn from a plant in the underbrush near the tree. 

The elf looked very strange indeed, sitting there with the bulky bandages meant for a minotaur wrapped around his middle. 

“Why?” the elf whispered in accented common. 

Alo’ad tilted his head a little. He just gave a little shrug. “Stay here,” he whispered. “I will find you a staff.”

He got up to hunt quickly through the forest for a stick for the small elf, looking up at branches with his knife in hand to cut one if he found a sturdy enough branch within his reach. 

………………………….

Bettelenian watched in amazement as the half-taur left to look for a staff. He rested a hand on his bandaged stomach, still trembling in the aftershocks of fear. He had been certain he was going to die when he looked up from his wound to see the enemy standing in front of him. Laying wounded, out of energy entirely to cast any spells, far away from the horses he trained and cursing the reckless decisions of his peers that brought him here, he thought he was going to die. 

When the half-taur had moved, quicker than a horse striking out with its back hooves, Bettelenian was sure he would wake up on the other side, wrapped in the robes of the dead, but instead he had only been slightly smothered as the half-taur messed with his wound. 

Bettelenian had been stupidly lucky. So very very lucky. He should have died, really. He had been thrown from his horse, upset by the attacking Taurs and difficult terrain and some Taur had managed to stick him, leaving for dead in the grass, a sneering face imprinted in Bettelenian’s head. He’d crawled to the tree before he’d run out of energy entirely. 

And here he was, patched up by a half-taur. It looked as though it were true that the human blood in any species made them softer. Maybe even foolish. 

Bettlenian shuddered at that thought. Now was not the time for blood snobbery. Really, he should be on his hands and knees thanking whatever human helped create this man who had come to save him. 

He heard a cracking of branches behind him and he turned his head to see the half-taur coming back, a sturdy branch in hand, tucking a huge knife away. 

His huge hand encompassed Bettelenian’s whole shoulder, hauling him up more than helping, giving him the staff and holding him until the dizziness had passed from him. 

“That way should be safe,” the half-taur said, pointing into the woods. “I will make sure they do not search this way for a while. Here.”

He pulled out a small bottle with something white and pearly inside. “Take a sip of this.”

“What is it?” Bettelenian asked, trying to hide his disgust. 

“It will give you energy to get back to an elven camp,” the half-taur said. “Take only a sip. It’ll feel like a kick to the chest.”

“I’ll do without,” Bettelenian said, trying to take a step away, but he was so tired his hands slipped on the staff, sending him to his knees. 

The huge enemy crouched by him, a huge hand on Bettelenian’s lower back, clearly able to grab him all the way around if he wanted to. The bottle was shoved under Bettelenian’s nose. “Take it.”

“No! I won’t have a barbarian’s brew! I-”

Something angry flashed through the half-taur’s eyes and he grabbed Bettelenian by his long hair, pulling him back and putting the bottle to his lips. 

The potion dribbled like honey into Bettelenian’s mouth - a bitter, numbing honey - sticking to his molars as he haltingly swallowed, and then the bottle was ripped away again. 

“Go,” the half-taur said darkly, pushing Bettelenian back up and shoving the staff into his hands. 

Bettelenian gasped as energy slammed into his body, indeed feeling like a kick to the chest as his heart pumped quicker and his urge to run kicked in as powerfully as it did when he found himself at the end of a spear. 

“Go,” the half-taur growled again. “May my father’s brewing knowledge carry you from here after the insult you gave to it. You are lucky I chose to let you go to live with your people instead of dying among mine.”

Bettelenian stumbled away before turning and fleeing as fast as he could, heavily using the staff as he did so. 

…………………………………………

��Alo’ad!” Underar called as the healer came back to meet with the other Taurs. They were setting up camp, laughing and singing together as they celebrated their victory and even Underar’s blood swam with the alcohol he had allowed himself to share in. “There you are! Where were you?”

“Likely finding a river to clean off in!” another Taur called. Kiadhi grinned at Alo’ad in a friendly, teasing way. “Just like your father, hey?”

Alo’ad rolled his eyes, though it was clear he had found a water source of some sort to clean off as he was somewhat damp and no longer smelled of the chase or war. “Perhaps, but you want your healer’s hands clean if he’s going to be digging around in your organs.”

“Only if the healer is in camp in the first place,” Underar said, a little bite in his tone now. “You were gone for a long time.”

Alo’ad shrugged, muscled shoulders rolling in a sleeveless tunic. “I was tired,” he admitted.

Underar scowled, stepping forward and putting a large hand on Alo’ad’s small shoulder, leading him away from camp as the Taurs who had been paying attention went back to their celebration. 

“Alo’ad,” the leader said softly. “You told me that you could keep up with us. If you have lied for the glory of running with the herd, I can understand that, but-”

“No, it’s fine. I can keep up. I just need longer breaks,” Alo’ad said firmly. “I have not slowed you down yet, and I do not intend on slowing you down in the future.”

Underar looked Alo’ad up and down, judging the small half-taur’s words before nodding. “I believe you, Alo’ad. Try to rest closer to the camp, understand?”

“I understand,” Alo’ad replied, nostrils flaring with some relief. 

“Good. Come join the celebration. We will need your voice to sing the victory chorus.”

……………………………………….

Bettelenian stumbled into an elven camp as the moon began to rise, the potion worn off now. He had no idea who’s camp he was in, but he wanted to cry in relief. 

He called out in pain, falling to his knees, his staff clattering to the ground. 

A tent near him lit up with mage light and soon elves were running to him, helping him up and calling for a healer. 

Bettelenian forced himself to stay conscious through pride alone as he was taken into a tent, a healer, wearing the symbols of the second highest order, pulled back his tunic only as far as necessary to deal with the injury. 

“These aren’t elven,” he said, confused. “What happened out there?”

Bettelenian opened his mouth to answer, but the Lord of sleep was already coming for him, taking his vision before carrying him to rest. 

Part 2

Let me know if you want to be on the tag list

[theguywithaplan]

List of Video Games turning ten (10) years old in 2025

Alone in the Dark: Illumination (if you thought the AitD game from last year was bad, check this shit out).

Angry Birds 2 (yes, there was a 2).

Animal Crossing: Happy Home Designer

Animal Crossing: Amiibo Festival (two AC games from 2015 and neither of them were what people wanted).

Assassin's Creed Syndicate (the Bri'ish one).

Atelier Shallie

Axiom Verge

Batman: Arkham Knight

Battlefield: Hardline (the last game from Visceral Games, the guys who made the Dead Space series).

The Beginner's Guide (the second game from the creator of The Stanley Parable).

Bloodborne (anything for the 10th anniver-- no. Never gonna happen).

Broken Age

Call of Duty: Black Ops III

Chibi-Robo! Zip Lash

Cities: Skylines

Crypt of the NecroDancer

Devil's Third (one of the rarest Wii U games ever).

Disgaea 5: Alliance of Vengeance

Disney Infinity 3.0

Dragon Ball XenoVerse (the first one. not the second).

Dying Light

Evolve (these guys would go on to make Back 4 Blood).

Fallout 4

Fatal Frame: Maiden of Black Water

Final Fantasy Type-0 HD

Game of Thrones (the Telltale game)

Guitar Hero Live

Halo 5: Guardians

Hatred (a game so edgy and terrible that it got itself kicked off of Steam).

Helldivers (the first one).

Heroes of the Storm (the Blizzard MOBA).

Hotline Miami 2: Wrong Number

HuniePop (for all you pervs out there).

I Am Bread

Just Cause 3

Keep Talking and Nobody Explodes (the quintessential VR game)

Kerbal Space Program

Kirby and the Rainbow Curse (one of the few Wii U games that hasn't been ported to the Switch. And probably never will be).

The Legend of Heroes: Trails of Cold Steel

The Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask 3D

The Legend of Zelda: Tri Force Heroes

Lego Dimensions (a crossover game with about a billion different franchises).

Lego Jurassic World

Life is Strange (controversial opinion: I sacrificed Chloe and felt nothing).

Mario Party 10 (the only MP on the Wii U)

Mario Tennis: Ultra Smash

Metal Gear Solid V: The Phantom Pain

Monster Hunter 4 Ultimate (back when the 3DS was single-handedly keeping MH alive)

Mortal Kombat X

Need for Speed (the reboot)

The Order: 1886

Ori and the Blind Forest

Pillars of Eternity

Pokemon Super Mystery Dungeon

Prison Architect

Rainbow Six: Siege

Rare Replay

Resident Evil: Revelations 2

Rise of the Tomb Raider

Rock Band 4

Rocket League

Saints Row: Gat Out of Hell (RIP Volition. You were too good for the modern day).

Shadowrun: Hong Kong

Skylanders: SuperChargers

Soma (the best horror game ever made. Play it if you haven't yet).

Splatoon

Star Wars: Battlefront (the EA reboot).

StarCraft II: Legacy of the Void (RIP StarCraft. You were too good for modern day Blizzard).

Steven Universe: Attack the Light!

Story of Seasons (the very fight one)

Super Mario Maker

Tales from the Borderlands (the best thing that Telltale EVER made).

Tales of Zestiria

Tembo the Badass Elephant (published by Sega and developed by Game Freak... the Pokemon guys).

Tony Hawk's Pro Skater 5

Total War: Attila

Transformers: Devastation (RIP PlatinumGames. You... kinda started sucking after Astral Chain).

Undertale (yep, it's happening).

Until Dawn

Warhammer: End Times - Vermintide

The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt (just in time for the 4th game)

Wolfenstein: The Old Blood (remember, kids: Nazi lives don't matter).

Xenoblade Chronicles X (finally escaping the Wii U this year).

Yakuza 5

Yo-Kai Watch

Yoshi's Woolly World

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 5/21/2024

get a load of this cat

listening

one of my favorite bands, Joywave, dropped a new album last week! it is not my favorite album of theirs but so it goes. perhaps it needs more time to grow on me. Sleepytime Fantasy kicks off my favorite section of the album. video game enchanted ice cave dream sequence music.

i must stay true to my own rules for this series (not a rec series, genuinely what i've been into the most this week) and the song that's been on loop all week is a genshin impact character's theme music (punchy wolf-coded ice cop who is the duke of the prison he. runs? administers? don't worry about it). unfortunately a bop. the character music lately has been a lot more modern and experimental than i expected? this one has a police siren drop

-

reading

thank you mackintosh.

i really, really enjoyed Trouble And Her Friends by Melissa Scott (LAMBDA award winner 1995)! @delta-orionis and i frequently ask ourselves "what if neuromancer was good?" and this scratches that itch for me. it is often difficult for me to take neuromancer's protagonist henry seriously, but this book features a pair of extremely practical dykes. it opens on the passing of a new american law criminalizing big swathes of online activity, passed despite a presidential veto. description from amazon

Less than a hundred years from now, the forces of law and order crack down on the world of the computer nets. The hip, noir adventurers who get by on wit, bravado, and drugs, and haunt the virtual worlds of the Shadows of cyberspace, are up against the encroachments of civilization. It's time to adapt or die. India Carless, alias Trouble, got out ahead of the feds and settled down to run a small network for an artist's co-op. Now someone has taken her name and begun to use it for criminal hacking. So Trouble returns. Once the fastest gun on the electronic frontier, she had tried to retire-but has been called out for one last fight. And it's a killer.

this startled me by how fun and competent it is! i tried reading one of the author's books last year (Dreamships) and had a miserable time with the pacing and flow of information. there are echoes of the pacing issues i had with the last book-- this is a nearly four hundred page hardcover, we have a lot of Next Locations to go to, and we are going to take our fucking time getting there. a road trip book, rather than a destination book. Scott has gotten way way better at fleshing out those locations— an artists' co-op has their skylights set to amber to hide the wear and tear on everything in their central hangout space when the feds show up. i also connected with the inciting incident way more-- someone stealing a female hacker’s name and style is instantly relatable. i am riding shotgun with Trouble. i am ready to throw down with her.

it's a very physical book in many ways, bc it has three brief sex scenes, is very concerned with sensuality in both senses of the word, and overall it's like the background in an anime that’s full of dials and buttons and little blinky lights. written in 1994, fascjnating how much concepts of VR and sensory inputs have not changed, but everyone still has the equivalent of an enormous old school desktop and giant CRT monitors set up. everyone is constantly lugging around so much physical tech. the stuff that makes you better at hacking in the net is quick reactions to VR sensations, the only way to get that cutting edge sensation is to get a physical chip or “worm” in your head, and the only people who do that are the core outcasts and freaks of the internet (the gays, the women, the people of color, the all three, presumably the furries as well). from that day to this…

there's an interesting contrast between Trouble and her old partner Cerise stalking the virtual reality bazaars/being queens of the BBS undergrounds, and the danger they feel and face when moving about in the real world. some reviewers are very cranky about how negotiations on and offline feel the same but i did not feel this particular quibble. communication is communication. it is known both on and offline that they're 1) women and 2) lesbians. they're in less physical danger online but slurs can still happen no matter where they are. also, i am well used to the necessity of having to posture and peacock and be kind of a bitch to establish myself in order to get anything done in coding/hardware scenes, which is something i don't think any of the male reviewers of the day ever had to think about.

some cowboy shit goes down at the end that had me hooting and hollering, and Scott handled the hacking scenes in an interesting way-- a sort of abstracted duel? terrific "fight" scenes. very interesting at how she will move things around in order to treat scenes in ways she's good at-- like establishing very grounded locations that feel real, physical sensations, and fight scenes-- instead of just kind of slogging through a very surface level high-overview travelogue like in her last book. ive been stuck on a fic chapter for like four years and this is making me think about doing it the fun way instead of the way i thought it should be done. this may be obvious but i am an amateur and more importantly an idiot.

this was a $6/1 book special last year at one of my favorite thrift stores, a religious shop with the absolute worst vibes in the greater houston area but some of the best stuff

-

watching

Five Dolls For An August Moon (1970, dir. Brava). sometimes you see a cool title on kanopy and you don't have a better way to kill an hour and a half. plus it had some guys i know from cowboys. tw for a suicide's body in the first fucking ten seconds of the trailer, which is a weird trailer choice bc u don't actually see most of the murders in the movie.

ive watched a fuck of a lot of spaghetti westerns so i feel i am somewhat qualified to tell you this is one of the worst dubs ive ever seen. the lines actors are quarter-heartedly delivering do not always make a lot of sense and only occasionally match the subtitles. i am assuming this is the original dub, bc kino lorber generally does a pretty okay job restoring things?

this is not a good movie (extremely troubled production, director swap three days before filming, made on a shoestring budget, the actors mostly wore their own clothes, etc). it is not very good at maintaining tension, because it is a film that first and foremost Looks. beautiful fucking sets, beautifully decorated. the exterior is a matte painting, a sort of frothy dream-bubble of sixties architecture. most of the interiors are apparently a real house. incredible experimental burbling soundtrack full of Weird Sounds.

sorry about the tubi interface and our old friend the activate windows logo.

there are so many fun directorial flourishes and staging, but it does get a little wrapped up in itself. this made me think of The Secret of NIMH, a beautifully animated talking-animal film that gave me nightmares as a child, where the animation tricks and sparkles and moving parts sort of all get in each other's way to produce something less than the sum of its parts. this sort of happens here. i'm going to yoink this from a review:

Bava’s eye for exquisite compositions is equally evident. One scene in particular stands out in this regard: The filmmaker shoots an otherwise humdrum fistfight through wooden latticework that breaks the action up into an abstracted mosaic effect. The fight culminates with a table being upended, which in turn unleashes a myriad crystal spheres. The camera follows along as the spheres tumble and cascade down a spiral staircase and roll across a tiled floor before plopping like so many bath bubbles into a tub. The scene concludes with the revelation of a recently deceased character caught in what you’d have to call a tableau morte. It’s a dazzlingly orchestrated sequence, easily on par with more famous Bava set pieces.

it's gorgeous! there's also So Much going on. another lovely bit of business: as each person dies they get wrapped in plastic sheeting and put in the walkin freezer. next to slabs of beef. not a subtle film, and i don't mean it as a diss, bc where's the fuckin fun in that?

-

playing

i have not been doing much of anything here except listen to podcasts and work toward the two-thousand-fish-caught achievement in genshin. impatiently waiting for Clorinde to be released in several weeks. that one button needs a raise. it is So funny to see genshin characters with fucking guns. very sword and pike based societies so far

-

making

every time i have tried to make one of these samplers for Me it's gone horribly wrong or been somehow destroyed so i'm making this one for my brother's upcoming birthday, bc he will have off-campus housing next academic year, in an attempt to peacefully do some fucking cross stitch and get something out at the end of it. pattern here on etsy

[alltheweirdkidsinoneplace]

Eddie Munson + potential Iron Maiden references

because I'm hyperfixiating and desperate. Also apparently not everyone was raised on 80s metal, so this might be new to some people and gatekeeping is lame. None of this is confirmed obviously and I'm probably reaching but here we go

let's start with the most obvious one: This is Iron Maiden's mascot. His name is Eddie. He's been on every single album cover, most single covers, merch, posters... He looks a little different every time, but he's always undead.

This is the cover artwork for the 1982 album The Number of the Beast. It features A huge version of Eddie, controlling the strings of a red, devil-like creature, which in turn holds the strings of a tiny version of Eddie. The Devil (Vecna, there I said it) is not shown to be aware of Big Eddie controlling him. It's all very double agent, The Spy parallel. Also if you take just the frame of Big Eddie's hand and the devil, it looks A LOT like Eddie Munson's puppetmaster tattoo. With a little fantasy and even more reaching there's also some vaguely mindflayery shape in the background of the image.

(probably irrelevant but still fun fact: This album was released on March 22nd 1982 - EXACTLY four years before Eddie Munson became the main suspect in Chrissy's death)

This one speaks for itself. We've all seen the Eddie prequel book that's gonna come out later this year with literally the same title as this 1983 song.

Interestingly, Eddie has batwings here, aka KAS THEORY CONFIRMED?

This one, holy shit. This is the artwork for the 1986 (!) album Somewhere in Time, and if the year and title weren't enough, there is so much more.

1. Again starting with the most obvious: There is a graffito on the wall to the very right that literally says EDDIE LIVES.

2. Under the graffito we see a hand reaching up from the ground (grave?). The version of Eddie that we get here is a cyborg, and the hand on the ground looks very cyborg-esque as well. The band members are seen a little towards the left as normal humans, so it's not like everyone's just a cyborg in this world. Ergo the hand belongs to a second Eddie, which is very in line with the whole "there is another timeline with shadow selves"-theory.

3. The red clouds in the background are very vecna-y.

4. The little winged figure from the Flight of Icarus cover is seen left of the big tower in the middle.

5. The neon sign of the movie theatre to the very bottom left contains the words "Live After Death" (illegible here, but it's there!)

6. The lyrics on this album! In particular Wasted Years, featuring the lines "But now it seems I'm just a stranger to myself

And all the things I sometimes do, it isn't me but someone else"

- again, very much in line with shadow selves. And even more Stranger in a Strange Land:

"Was many years ago that I left home and came this way

I was a young man full of hopes and dreams

But now it seems to me that all is lost and nothing gained

Sometimes things ain't what they seem

No brave new world, no brave new world

No brave new world, no brave new world

Night and day I scan horizon, sea and sky

My spirit wanders endlessly

Until the day will dawn and friends from home discover why

Hear me calling, rescue me

Set me free, set me free

Lost in this place and leave no trace

Stranger in a strange land

Land of ice and snow

Trapped inside this prison

Lost and far from home

[...]

They found his body lying where it fell on that day

Preserved in time for all to see

No brave new world, no brave new world

Lost in this place, and leave no trace

What became of the man that started

All are gone and their souls departed

Left me here in this place so all alone"

Does that sound like someone left for dead in the Upside Down or is that just me?

7. idk a fuckload more in the cover probablay because it's wild.

Bonus Metallica fact: Master of Puppets was released on March 3rd 1986. Eeven if he bought the album the day it was released (he would) that would have given him under three weeks to rehearse it so much that he could give the most metal concert ever on March 27th.

Anyway that's just from the top of my head; I might add on to it if/when I think of more. PLEASE spam me with your theories I beg you.

Side note: Contrary to popular belief, if you got into metal because of Eddie: That's awesome! Welcome! Again, gatekeeping sucks; we've all had our minds blown by a Metallica song for the first time at some point, so let's be nice to the newcomers.

[gay-disabled-characters-showdown]

LGBTQ+ Disabled Characters Showdown Round 3, Wave 2, Poll 9

A character being totally canon LGBTQ+ and disabled was not required to be in this competition. Please check qualifications and propaganda before asking why a character is included. 

Check out the other polls in this wave and prior here.

Lan Wangji-The Untamed / Mo Dao Zu Shi

Qualifications:

Canonically gay, pretty heavily coded as autistic (esp in the show)

Additional qualifications by @lovewanxian : I would like to add that Lan Wangji also has extremely extensive scarring on his back from getting whipped 33 times and spent an extended amount of time bedridden because of it

Propaganda:

He's an absolute badass - in a series full of morally ambiguous or outright immoral characters, he's one of the only people around to consistently show he's reliable, honorable and strong. Some examples include Lan Wangji defending Wei Wuxian, his love interest and eventual husband, against his own clan and other clans because WWX went against their rules and tried to save innocent people, or LWJ raising WWX's adopted son for years and being a great father and mentor to him. While LWJ isn't *technically* canonically autistic, (not that this word would exist in the setting), he has flat affect, fixates on rules and his difficulty in understanding people's emotions is explicitly brought up and a minor plot point.

Wylan Van Eck-Six of Crows

Qualifications:

Wylan has dyslexia (heavily implied, but not outright said bc setting) and is gay,

Dyslexic and gay!

They are in a adorable m/m relationship, and also have severe dyslexia to the point that (when eight) he could not read or write despite formal education

Wylan is gay and dyslexic!

Propaganda:

Wylan and Jesper have the absolute cutest relationship. Also, Wylan has dyslexia. I don't think it was outright said, but that was heavily implied. It just couldn't be set out loud for the sake of maintaining the fantasy setting. He's such a good character, and is primarily known for his skill with explosives, not his struggles with reading and writing. The other protagonists also never judge him for it, and the only character who does is the kind of person 90% of readers want to kill by the end of the series.

His boyfriend Jesper helped him fake being able to read so they could beat Wylan's shitty dad.

- He's incredibly sweet - But can also be ok with murder sometimes, like when killing unconscious people wasn't good - so just wake them up. - He was thrown out of the house and his father tried to kill him, because of said dyslexia, but managed to survive. Then rebelled against his father and with the help of friends took down his empire - He is very talented at the flute. And can draw very well, along with being a great chemist and demolition experts (hired for making flash bombs and other cool shit-) - Helps break into a world-class prison, then blushes the entire time because the person he's pared with keeps flirting with him - Asks his (eventual boyfriend) if he's into guys. Then immediately gets flustered when Jesper picks it up - Is very rich heir (due to shenanigans) and there's a one-off line about this sweet bean kind of being a sugar daddy- (just gives his boyfriend money to do stocks with, to stop him from gambling) - Supports his boyfriend throughout his gambling addiction and tries to help him overcome it

Wylan is dyslexic and because of this written off as stupid by his father. However, he is actually a genius, especially with chemicals, and he uses his genius and his new band of misfit friends to take his father down and read him for filth in front of a whole bunch of important people. He is good at making things explode. He also nabs himself a hot boyfriend in the process so good for him!

The qualifications and propaganda paragraphs correspond, @wisheduponastar is the third submitter.