#grace d li

[thoughtfulfangirling]

Alex didn’t know how to lie, how to tell the truth. She couldn’t talk to Irene without feeling like she was preparing for a war she had already lost.

—Portrait of a Thief by Grace D. Li

[ijustkindalikebooks]

To tab or not to tab that is the question.

[living400lbs]

Her parents had lived through the Cultural Revolution, had come to America looking to start anew. Their parents—her grandparents—had died before she was born, to famine or persecution or any of the countless tragedies that happened in a country in upheaval. Without family in China, with all their friends lost to time—Lily had never needed to ask her parents about why they hadn’t taught her Chinese, why there were no summer trips to unknown provinces. Twenty years, and she was used to being asked where she was from, to giving an answer that felt like a lie. She could never be Chinese enough for China. She could never be American enough for here.

From Portrait Of A Thief by Grace D. Li

[thesewildreams]

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

Books of 2024: THE DEATH I GAVE HIM by Em X. Liu.

Up next! Hamlet retelling but make it science + a locked-lab mystery (which is, of course, directly up my alley!). Horatio is the lab's resident AI, and I'm so excited to see how this goes.

[claireelizabethsblog]

~May's Books Reviewed~

May saw some highs and lows in my enjoyment of books! I largely was still making my way through some old books I hadn't had the opportunity to read, but I also read a couple of newer ones. I was also on holiday for a week in May which meant that I had a couple of easier books thrown into the mix too. All in all, I've been enjoying my reading, especially as the weather has been nice and I'm able to read outside more!

Portrait of a Thief by Grace D. Li

(369 pages)

I actually started this book at the end of April, but I finished it at the start of May so in this post it goes! I really really enjoyed this book! I picked it up at the book shop because I have an unapologetic love for heist films, but had never actually read a proper heist book that I could think of. This fulfilled everything u wanted it to be as a heist book though. It was light and fun and a fairly easy read. It completely held my attention and remained believable (bizarrely!) while being compelling. It brought about the same feelings of investment and fun that I get while watching heist films and I would highly recommend it to people.

I gave this book 4.5 stars ⭐⭐️⭐️⭐️🌗

The MouseTrap (70th anniversary edition) by Agatha Christie (arranged and introduced by Sophie Hannah)

(245 pages)

This is a bit of an odd one to include, however I saw the play (finally!) and absolutely loved it so felt I had to locate the book now that I was part of the secret! Obviously seeing it was indescribably better, however it is still a fun story and I enjoyed all the behind the scenes bits and history that this book went in to. I cannot recommend going to see the play enough and would in fact not recommend reading this until after you already know the story so that you can enjoy the plot twists and mystery in real time with the rest of the audience.

I gave this book 3.5 stars ⭐️⭐️⭐️🌗 (but as a play it was 5!)

The Book of Dust by Philip Pullman

(546 pages - this was a hardback)

I had owned this book for several years, having got it when it first came out with every intention of reading it, only to never get around to it! I loved the His Dark Materials trilogy when I was younger which is why I was really wanting to read another book from the same universe. That being said, while I enjoyed this book, it did not quite live up to the original trilogy (at least not in my memory). This was probably mostly due to a lack of nostalgia and attachment to the characters considering it is set like a prequel to the original books. The world and the writing remains incredible so I would highly recommend all Philip Pullman books, including this one to anyone who is perhaps a younger reader and wanting to get into a good fantasy world.

I gave this book 3.5 stars ⭐️⭐️⭐️🌗

Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy by John LeCarré

(367 pages)

So I read this primarily for its reputation as this incredible espionage book.... I have to admit, I do not get the hype. I honestly could not tell you anything that happened in this book, it kept my interest that little that I have already forgotten genuinely everything. I found that there were too many characters and the plot and language was long winded, meandering and unnecessarily complex. It's supposedly a classic, but unfortunately I'm still not sure what I even actually read. I therefore did not exactly enjoy it. It's definitely not the worst book I've ever read, but I doubt I'll find myself reaching for any more LeCarré.

I gave this book 2 stars ⭐️⭐️

The Help by Kathryn Stochett

(451 pages)

Very different from the other books that I rated this highly, but no less enjoyable. It took me a surprisingly long time to read for the number of pages it is, but this was in no correlation to the writing, which was simple and effective, but rather down to the content I think. The book deals with a lot of heavy themes around racism in particular, especially as it aims to by historically accurate and so it would have felt disrespectful almost to have read it much quicker. The writing and story were addictive and despite the heavy themes, I genuinely enjoyed reading this book and at no point felt weighed down by the responsibility of it. I would really recommend this book.

I gave this book 4.5 stars ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️🌗

Nine Perfect Strangers by Liane Moriarty

(434 pages)

This was the start of my holiday reading and it was indeed a total "airport book", ironically enough about an airport book author! I did strangely enjoy this book and was definitely desperate to finish it and find out what was going on the whole time. Although, that being said, the ending was a little anticlimactic and sudden in my opinion which did drag the rating down a little. I would also say that there does need to be a bit of a content warning here for eating disorders and very casual references and descriptions of them at that. It is set at a wellness retreat so a lot of the characters internal monologue does end up focusing a fair amount on body image and dieting.

I gave this book 3 stars ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell

(461 pages)

The second of my holiday books! I mean.... it's been read before, and it holds up as being exactly what it says on the tin - a classic teen coming of age book that while horribly cringy at points is still generally enjoyable. I loved this book when I first read it (almost 10 years ago!!) and I still loved it this time through, even if it was no longer quite as relatable! I have not much else to say about this one other than I would recommend it, but know that this is not the highbrow literature but simply fun and light and easy.

I gave this book 4 stars ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Icebreaker by R.L. Graziadei

(314 pages)

The last of my holiday reads. My kindle recommended this one to me based off other books I have read I suppose and I have to admit that unfortunately I was a little disappointed, especially by the end.it felt like it was just beginning to pick up and get interesting, only for all the resolutions etc to happen and feel kinda rushed and kinda unrealistically unsatisfactory. That being said, it was still a mindless holiday read and I really did enjoy the representation, both of multiple sexualities and relationship types; and more so perhaps of various mental health struggles.

I gave this book 3 stars ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine by Gail Honeyman

(382 pages)

I really really enjoyed this book, was definitely a high to finish the month on! I found it highly engaging as I was so desperate to find out what had happened through out. The protagonist/speaker was incredibly unique and well written, with her trauma and experiences clearly affecting her thought patterns. This made it really interesting and cool to be reading from such a clearly unreliable narrators perspective, but also to watch with front row view as she herself slowly unpacks what has happened to her and come to terms with what other people see and how she could be living her life. The ending was perhaps a tiny bit too abrupt for my liking, but I really would recommend this book to people.

I gave this book 4 stars ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

[whatcharlottereads]

... sometimes she wondered if he knew how hard other people had to work for the love that came to him so easily.

Grace D. Li - Portrait of a Thief

[desdasiwrites]

For all that people in power claim to care about looting, it doesn't seem to matter when it's museums doing it.

– Grace D. Li, Portrait of a Thief

[katieroo28]

I read a book that had pretty much this premise called “Portrait of a Thief” by Grace D. Li

It’s REALLY good and I definitely recommend it if you haven’t read it already.

✨️Joana Indi and the Queen of Egypt ✨️

[thoughtfulfangirling]

As the light changed outside his window—fall swirling soft and  golden around him—Will thought, as he always did, of history. It was made in moments like this.

—Portrait of a Thief by Grace D. Li

[somethingthing]

Head Scratches

Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Warnings: slight sexual indications, tiny bit of angst if you squint, other than that, FLUFF

Word Count: ~900

A/N: I’ve literally forgotten how to write but I wanna start again so i apologize for any mistakes and feedback is always welcome!!

Hope you enjoy!

It was a quiet evening, in fact the whole day had been quiet. Your last hunt had drained all of you, making you come to the decision to not go looking for your next.

Dean had protested at first. Not wanting to waste anytime in finding the yellow-eyed demon, yet here he was. Laying with his head in your lap on the dusty sofa in the corner of the even dustier motel room you´d all taken into for the night.

"You know, one of these days we have to splurge just a little bit. Get a proper hotel room, or at least a room that doesn't make me sneeze every five minutes." you said mindlessly as one of your hands ran through his short hair. When you didn´t get an answer you stopped for a second and looked down at him. His eyes were shut. "You´re not falling asleep on me, are you? Sam will be back with some food soon" you stated.

Dean gave out a small huff "Why´d you stop?" One of his hands reached up behind his head, fumbling to find yours, he took it and firmly tangled your fingers back into his hair again "Please do continue sweetheart" eyes still closed.

You smiled softly, not being able to deny how much you enjoyed the nickname "For someone who was so determined to not take a quiet day in, you seem to be enjoying it an awful lot" you giggled out.

"How couldn´t I?" he slowly opened his eyes to look at you, letting a sly grin grace his lips "I´m in company of an very hot woman who continues to stroke my head when i tell her too" he wiggled his eyebrows at you, flashing an even bigger grin.

You rolled your eyes at him "Ha ha very funny" you slapped his chest gently "I´m staring to wonder if this head," tapping your fingers against his forehead "actually does any thinking, and not just the other one" you let your eyes dart to the lower half of his body.

"Not when you´re around sweetheart" he closed his eyes again with a content sight "The not so little, little man down there is perfectly capable of thinking on his own" he said, a bit too proud of himself.

"Jerk" was all you got out, trying keep the heat on your face from rising. You and Dean were something, a thing as Sam would call it, and yeah, maybe you were, but nothing ever really happened.

He´d flirt, you´d respond with something equally as flirty or do your best to try and sound grossed out. Other than that, nothing happened. You didn’t really know what you felt, you liked him, really liked him, but then what? Both your lives where chaos, always on the move, putting your lives on the line almost daily.

Too deep in thought you hadn´t noticed Dean staring at you, nudging you slightly "Hey," snapped out of it you looked down at him "what´s up? That wasn´t too far was it?" he looked at you, slightly concerned.

Still slightly out of it you shook your head "What?" his words slowly coming into your mind "No... no it´s..." you didn´t know how to phrase it, so you just blurred it out "What are we?" Dean opened his mouth and closed it again, you held your breath, anxious for his answer.

At last, he sat up and turned around to face you, cornering you at the edge of the couch, between him and the armrest "Can´t say i haven't thought about it, with my brain, mind you" you couldn´t help but to giggle a bit, letting go of some of the anxiety gnawing at you "I´ve never lied to you, every little flirty comment have been true, i really do like you" your eyes darted to his lips for a second.

"I- I like you too" you felt like a teenager with a crush, all warm and giddy, confused what to do with yourself "I really, really do, but our lives, not knowing what happens next, not-" you were cut off.

He scooched closer, propping his arm up on the back rest of the couch, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear "We´ll never know what´s gonna happen next, even in a normal life we wouldn´t" now it was his turn, letting his eyes rest of your lips for a moment "Question is, what do you want to happen next?" his eyes met yours again.

You didn´t even think about it "This" was all you said before your lips found his. It was slow, almost shy, until Dean cupped your face in his hands and deepened the kiss. It was still soft but more passionate, urgent.

The qlick of the lock on the door made you break away, sucking in air sharply. You shifted slightly just in time for Sam to open the door "Food delive-" he stopped in his tracks, giving you and Dean a funny look "Did I interrupt something?"

"Yes!" "No!" Dean and you exclaimed. Sam looked between the two of you and shook his head "I´ll just, uhm, I´ll just set the food up" he spun around awkwardly.

You looked at Dean, feeling like a deer in headlights "What now?" you whispered anxiously.

He looked at you for a moment, leaned forward and gave you one last kiss, letting his face stay close to yours "We table this for later`" he gave you a smirk and a wink as he licked his lips "All this touchy feely has made me starving" he joked and stood up, reaching his hand out the pull you up.

He pulled you up faster then you had expected, making you come crashing into his chest "But take out isn´t really what I´m hungry for" he smirked before turning a round, dragging you to the dinner table with a heat rising on you face and traveling elsewhere.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Am I back?? Who knows? Might disappear for a year again hah. But thank you for reading and I really do hope I get my writing motivation back cause it’s was fun<333

[jewish-microwave-laser]

And here is the most devastating fact of Frank's posthumous success, which leaves her real experience forever hidden: we know what she would have said, because other people have said it, and we don't want to hear it.

The line most often quoted from Frank's diary are her famous words, "I still believe, in spite of everything, that people are truly good at heart." These words are "inspiring," by which we mean that they flatter us. They make us feel forgiven for those lapses of our civilization that allow for piles of murdered girls—and if those words came from a murdered girl, well, then, we must be absolved, because they must be true. That gift of grace and absolution from a murdered Jew (exactly the gift that lies at the heart of Christianity) is what millions of people are so eager to find in Frank's hiding place, in her writings, in her "legacy." It is far more gratifying to believe that an innocent dead girl has offered us grace than to recognize the obvious: Frank wrote about people being "truly good at heart" before meeting people who weren't. Three weeks after writing those words, she met people who weren't.

Here's how much some people dislike living Jews: they murdered 6 million of them. This fact bears repeating, as it does not come up at all in Anne Frank's writings. Readers of her diary are aware that the author was murdered in a genocide, but this does not mean that her diary is a work about genocide. If it were, it is unlikely that it would have been anywhere near as universally embraced.

We know this, because there is no shortage of writings from victims and survivors who chronicled this fact in vivid detail, and none of those documents have achieved anything like Frank's diary's fame. Those that have come close have only done so by observing those same rules of hiding, the ones that insist on polite victims who don't insult their persecutors The work that came closest to achieving Frank's international fame might be Elie Wiesel's Night, a memoir that could be thought of as a continuation of Frank's diary, recounting the tortures of a fifteen-year-old imprisoned in Auschwitz. As the scholar Naomi Seidman has discussed, Wiesel first published his memoir in Yiddish, under the title And the World Was Silent. The Yiddish book told the same story told in Night, but it exploded with rage against his family's murderers and, as the title implies, the entire world whose indifference (or active hatred) made those murders possible. With the help of the French Catholic Nobel laureate François Mauriac, Wiesel later published a French version under the new title La Nuit���a work that repositioned the young survivor's rage into theological angst. After all, what reader would want to hear about how this society had failed, how he was guilty? Better to blame G[-]d. This approach earned Wiesel a Nobel Peace Prize, as well as, years later, selection for Oprah's Book Club, the American epitome of grace. It did not, however, make teenage girls read his book in Japan, the way they read Frank's. For that he would have had to hide much, much more.

from "Everyone's (Second) Favorite Dead Jew" in People Love Dead Jews by Dara Horn, pp 9–10

[munson-blurbs]

Eddie Munson x Shy!Reader

Summary: Max and Lucas are tired of their friends silently pining over each other but never making a move, so when the Winter Formal rolls around, they take matters into their own hands.

Warnings: mutual pining, idiots in love, fluffy fluff

WC: 1.8k

A/N: Happy anniversary to the love of my life, @corroded-hellfire 💚 one year ago today, we met in person for the first time, and my life has been infinitely better ever since. Thank you for being my best friend. I love you more than Dustin loves his Weird Al shirt. Red, this fic is for you.

Divider credit to @saradika

“Kill me now.”

Three words uttered by none other than Max Mayfield, sliding her lunch tray onto the table and sitting down with an irritated sigh. 

You look at her with an amused grin. “What is it this time? Bombed a pop quiz? Got detention for flipping off a teacher—again?” Her brazen, flippant attitude provided many entertaining moments, so long as you weren’t on the receiving end of it. 

Max shakes her head, spearing a limp macaroni noodle with her plastic fork. “I wish.” She holds up two tickets to the Winter Formal. “Lucas is dragging me to this bullshit. ‘All the other basketball guys’ girlfriends are going,’” she mocks him in an octave much lower than his actual voice, “so I guess that means I have to follow suit.”

Bringing a hand to your heart, you jut out your lower lip in mock-pity. “Oh, no; your boyfriend wants to show you off at a school dance! How will you ever survive?” 

Max doesn’t miss a beat. “You could go, too,” she says, blue eyes pleading. “Keep me company when the guys inevitably bail to get wasted in the woods.”

“I don’t—”

“You don’t need a date,” she insists, reading your mind before the words can leave your mouth. “I’m telling you, Lucas is gonna ditch me as soon as Jason and Patrick show up.” She takes your hand between both of hers. “Please? I’ll even tell Ms. Kelly the lengths you went to for your poor, troubled freshie.”

You exhale, knowing that she doesn’t need to go to all of that trouble. You’d started off the school year as her peer mentor, but just a few months later, you two have become close friends. “Fine, I’ll go,” you acquiesce, laughing when she pumps her fists victoriously. “But I’m not gonna be happy about it.”

You return to your own lunch, completely missing the mischievous look that graces her freckled face. 

Unbeknownst to you, a similar discussion is had at Hellfire Club later that same afternoon. 

“Absolutely not,” Eddie scoffs, folding his arms across his chest. “Nice try, Sinclair, but I wouldn’t be caught dead at some lame dance.”

“Seriously,” Jeff smirks from his position across the table. “He’s never been to a single one in his ten years of high school.”

Eddie flips him off casually. “It’s only six, asshole. But that doesn’t matter, because I’m not dressing up in some penguin suit to drink unspiked punch with a bunch of shitty people.”

“C’mon, dude,” Lucas says, his tone bordering on a whine. “If you don’t go, I’m gonna be stuck with the jocks all night, and they just wanna suck face with their girlfriends.”

“And you don’t?” Gareth quips. 

Lucas rolls his eyes. “Not in front of everyone. And I don’t need a front-row seat to their performances, either.” He turns his attention back to the Dungeon Master. “Look, I’m desperate. Mike’ll be visiting his grandma and Dustin’s grounded because of his D-plus in Spanish.”

Eddie narrows his eyes. “What about Huey, Dewey, and Louie over here?” he asks, gesturing to the three remaining club members. 

Their collective responses are jumbled excuses; Eddie swears one of them says he’s going kayaking—in mid-December in Indiana—but he doesn’t bother to sift through their lies. “You owe me, Sinclair,” he declares, pointing his forefinger at the underclassman. “Big time.”

The next few weeks leading up to the Winter Formal are spent meticulously making plans. For someone who seemed so disinterested in this dance, Max is paying careful attention to each detail. 

You walk out of the dressing room in a velvet emerald green dress that hits just above the knee. Max is beaming as she adjusts the off-the-shoulder sleeves and smooths down any creases. 

“You look really nice,” she says, nodding her head. She’s trying to temper her enthusiasm, but you can sense her excitement. “I can’t wait to tell Lucas.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Lucas? Why would he care?” He’s a nice kid—more in tune with emotions than the average fourteen-year-old boy—but that doesn’t constitute an interest in your fashion choices. 

Max’s cheeks burn as red as her hair. “Uh, well, seeing you happy makes me happy, and seeing me happy makes him happy, so…everyone’s happy?” she finishes lamely. She clears her throat as if expelling the awkwardness from the conversation. “Anyway, let’s buy this dress so we can look for shoes.”

“Yeah, okay.” You’re not fully convinced, but you brush it off and steel your nerves to ask a question. “Is anyone else gonna be there that we know?” You really want to know whether Eddie Munson is going to be there, but you can’t say the quiet part aloud. 

“Probably,” she shrugs, a bit too quickly, but she’s pushing you back behind the curtain to change before you can inquire more. 

“Why does this stupid tie need to be green?” Eddie asks, sifting through the store’s selection with Lucas by his side. 

“Uh, Christmas colors,” Lucas stammers, fumbling for a decent explanation other than the contents of his secret phone call with Max earlier today. “And, y’know, red is way overdone, so…” he trails off lamely, going back to the display table and hoping Eddie drops the matter. 

They find exactly what they’re looking for—not without Eddie complaining about putting in too much effort just to be a third wheel—and make their way over to the food court. Eddie makes a beeline for the Pizza Hut when he stops dead in his tracks. “Shit, Sinclair; we gotta go,” he says urgently, clapping a hand on the younger boy’s shoulder and steering him away from the fast food. 

“What the hell? I’m hungry!”

Eddie shakes his head, curls brushing against his shoulders. “Look, man.” He discreetly points to his left, where you and Max are giggling at the Orange Julius. “We can’t let them see us.”

“Dude, she’s like the nicest person ever,” Lucas rebuts. “Even Max likes her, and Max pretty much hates everyone.”

“That’s not the problem.” Eddie rakes his ringed fingers through his hair, wincing when he snags one on a knot. “The problem is that she’s gonna be all, ‘hi, Eddie; what’re you doing at the mall?’ And I’m gonna be all, ‘just picking out a tie for the Winter Formal.” And then she’ll go, ‘oh, who’s your date?” And then I’ll have to say, ‘I don’t have one; I’m just playing babysitter to some freshmen like a goddamn loser!” He hops back and forth to indicate each character change.

“First of all, ouch,” Lucas quips, “second, go hide in the bathroom if you want, but I’m getting something to eat.”

Eddie exhales an exasperated sigh, giving in and schlepping over to Pizza Hut, one of the few times in his life that he’s trying to be inconspicuous. 

You pull into the school parking lot on the night of the Winter Formal and shift into park before killing the engine. Max is bouncing her leg up and down in the passenger seat, lower lip tucked between her teeth.

“What’s on your mind?” you ask, mistaking her excitement for anxiety. “You know that Lucas would think you look beautiful even if you showed up in a potato sack.” You furrow your brow. “Where is he, anyway? Why didn’t he come with us?”

She mumbles something about not wanting her mom to ask any questions about the relationship, and you take them at face value. Her eyes light up when she spots her boyfriend walking into the school alongside…Eddie Munson?

“Eddie’s here?” you ask in a hushed whisper, feeling sweat prickling under your arms. You’ve been nursing a massive crush on him for ages–one that Max is very much aware of. And now he’s here, dressed in a black suit with his hair pulled back into a low bun at the nape of his neck. “Max, why didn’t you tell me? Who’s he going with?” The idea of him slow dancing with someone else has your stomach turning.

Max just shrugs. “I don’t think he had a date.” Too casual, too blasé–she knows something. “C’mon, let’s go in.” She swings the car door open enthusiastically, leaving you shell-shocked in your seat.

“Maxine Mayfield!” you hiss, using her full government name to drive home your bewilderment, but she just skips ahead. Damn your heeled shoes, slowing you down before you can catch up to her. When you finally do, she just grabs your hand and tugs you towards the guys.

She poorly feigns surprise, jaw dropping as she exclaims, “Eddie? What are you doing here? Oh, my gosh, this is such a coincidence!” She pulls you closer, smiling far too wide. “Lucas and I both brought our upperclassmen friends! What are the odds?”

“Yeah, so weird,” Lucas says, not as loud as Max but just as transparent. He looks at Max before regarding you and Eddie. “Okay, well, we’re gonna go dance–bye!” The two of them scamper off, leaving you alone with Eddie. If their stilted dialogue wasn’t evidence enough, the way Eddie’s tie perfectly matches your dress certainly clears up their intentions.

Eddie speaks first, shoving his hands in his pants pockets and nervously swiveling his body. “I, uh, think we’ve been set up,” he says with a small, awkward chuckle. “I swear, it wasn’t my idea. Not–not that it’s a bad thing, I just meant, like, if you’re uncomfortable with this, I don’t wanna be held responsible.” His cheeks burn red. “Shit, I need to stop talking.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him with your own kind laugh, “we might as well make the most of it. Get some punch and make fools of ourselves out there?” You gesture towards the gym’s makeshift dance floor; the band has just started playing Journey’s “Faithfully.” Eddie’s nods, following you to an empty space, and you timidly drape your arms over his shoulders. Taking care to avoid an inappropriate touch, he rests his palms on the small of your back. 

His voice is low when he murmurs in your ear, “you look really beautiful tonight.” He clears his throat and speaks again. “You always look really beautiful, though.”

The two of you sway to the music, swapping shy smiles and fleeting but longing glances. As the song ends, you look over your shoulder. “We’re being spied on,” you report, noting the way the two younger kids are watching you from across the room. You consider your next words before eventually deciding to go for it: “Did you talk to Lucas about me as much as I talked to Max about you?”

“Probably more,” Eddie laughs, bringing you a bit closer. “But I’m interested in comparing notes.”

You nod, staving off any lingering nerves. “Maybe after the dance, we can split a burger from Benny’s and discuss?”

Eddie presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “Yeah,” he says; you can feel his lips move against your skin, “I’d like that.”

--

[sister-lucifer]

“You’re Really Not Cut Out For This…”

A Toby x Gender Neutral Reader Drabble 

Content/Warnings: Porn with no plot, bottom/sub Reader, degradation, a bit of mean Toby, heavy discussion of Reader basically being a free use sex toy, no specified genitalia for Reader, Reader + Toby are both proxies

This is not fully proof read! Please let me know if you see any typos

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, USED COMMERCIALLY OR FED TO AN AI. IF YOU DO THIS I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN AND FUCKING KILL YOU.

“You know, y-you’re reeeaaaally not cut— c-cut out for this-ss-s…t-this ‘job,’ I mean.” 

The sudden admission would make you pause if had the lucidity to do so. You can’t do much of anything with the rabid way Toby’s pounding into you from behind, shoving his cock into you with the whole of his strength without so much as a single thought to your wellbeing. You barely manage to babble out something that sounds like a question. You can feel him smiling despite the forced wrenching of his face. 

“I-I’m just saying,” he continues, punctuating that last word with a particularly acute thrust that makes you squeal, “You d-don’t—shhh!—don’t seem like y-you really enjoy this-ss-s…line of-fff-f work…hell, you’re not good at i-it— it either, if we’re being hones-ss-st-t.” 

There’s no ignoring the cheeky giggle in his voice as he insults you to your face. He leans over you a bit, putting more of his weight on you and practically trapping you beneath him. He keeps talking before you even get a chance to protest. 

“You’re definitely n-not my equal,” he growls with a chuckle, as if highly amused by the idea of your inferiority, “You’ve hardly su— s-succeeded at any mission th-the ‘Boss’ has given you— y-you…but you are so good at this—“ 

He laughs at the way you choke on nothing when he angles his hips upwards just right, hitting that sensitive spot deep inside you that makes you see stars. You can feel his body shudder on top of you, a series of involuntary tongue clicks and whistles interrupting him for a moment before his endless chatter continues on. 

“You’re sooo— s-so fucking good at taking my cock…” 

He can’t contain the flood of sick giggles that burst from his throat before he can truly finish his thought. 

“…Tell you what I’m gonna do.” 

You shiver at how deathly serious his voice becomes suddenly. He’s speaking lowly into your ear, making sure you hear every syllable clear as day.  His stutter even pauses for that moment; he’s focused, suddenly, and a focused Toby is rare, but horrific for anyone who happens to be in his line of sight. 

“I’m gonna talk to the ‘Boss’…y-yeah, that’s what I’ll do. I-I’ll tell— t-tell him myself, ‘I don’t t-think the n-new— new— new one is cut out for this.’”

He grabs at your arms, pinning them to the mattress as he uses his body to hold you down. He’s starting to lose his steady pace as his excitement builds, his fingers flexing and popping in ways they shouldn’t be able to as he grasps your wrists.

“And he’ll l-listen to me, you know? H-He’ll lis— l-listen-nn-n to me, I know he will, be— b-because— beep! beep!— because I’m his f-ff-favorite.”

The word ‘favorite’ echoes in your mind, making you dizzy and sick. As much as you and the others are convinced that creature can’t feel emotion at all, it does show favoritism. It doesn’t love Toby, it doesn’t even care about him; on some level, Toby has to know that, he’s smarter than he lets on, but… 

…He doesn’t care. 

All he knows is that he’s getting positive attention from something, and it’s going straight to his ego. The only saving grace is that he’s usually too juvenile and short sighted to use that power against his fellow proxies. 

Usually. 

Unless he can get something he really wants out of it. 

“I-I’ll tell him, I’ll tell him-mm-m you’d be better off as my toy.” 

You nearly choke as Toby rocks you forward with a particularly hard thrust. You can feel your legs trembling, nothing more than jello underneath you, barely holding you up. Toby sucks in a breath through his crooked teeth as he watches you put the pieces together in your mind, though you can do little to show it. 

“That’s right, that’s-ss-s right!” He repeats, sounding far too pleased with himself, “I’ll tell him you’d be b-better off-ff-f being used, just-t something I can use— u-use— use to unwind after I do all the hard work that y-you— you could never.” 

He breaks out into giggles again, wrapping an arm around your neck and stifling your air without warning. You grasp onto his sleeve, clawing at his arm, but you’re far too shaky and weak to pull it away. He forces you to look him in the eyes, not wanting even a scrap of your attention to not be on him. 

“That’s right, you h-hear that?” He manages to choke out between his laughter, “I’m gon-nn-a get you demoted to a fucking hole!” 

He pushes—throws, really—your head back into the mattress before even have the chance to argue. He shoves your face into the bed, hand tangled in your hair as you whimper pathetically, exactly how he likes. He runs his tongue over his lips as he looks down at you, completely helpless underneath him, and it sends a surge of sick pleasure through his body.

“Just enjoy it,” He hisses through gritted teeth, “Because when I-I get m-mm-my way, this is all you’ll ever do.”

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[pomefioredove]

hiya :D i hope you're well rested, well fed, and hydrated today (and if not this is your reminder!!)

may i please have a sugar cookie, #18, with whipped cream and chocolate chips? thank you <3

ANOTHER BANGER COMBO. lilia fans here's your dinner

order #18, sugar with whipped cream and chocolate chips

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ bored senseless

tropes: fake dating and royalty AU characters: lilia additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not yuu, fae!reader, takes place during Malleus' childhood word count: 900

It was only supposed to be for one ball.

When the General of the Right, the Dragon's Hand, the keeper of the Prince himself sends for your word, you answer. When he invites you to attend the centurial ball with him, you say yes. When he whispers in your ear as you ascend the castle steps, his hand tight around your arm, you listen.

And if he tells you that he's been formally courting you for the past century, you nod your head and let him hold the door for you like a true suitor would.

There was, of course, a thousand and more questions to be had, but not there, not when you were already inside the castle's stone ballroom, arm-in-arm with Lilia.

You really just wished he would've disclosed this pertinent piece of information before the ball.

The questions you had, you now had to answer for others.

"How did you catch the crimson eye of the General himself?"

"Especially as a fae of such low nobility?"

"Especially when he's had no interest in courting for the past several hundred years?"

You were able to keep up with the ruse, but it wasn't easy nor fun, especially since Lilia seemed to prefer letting you do all the talking.

When it was over, he handed you a small box of silver and went off alone, without a word, leaving you at the gates of the castle.

How strange, you had thought, but in your years in the court of Briar Valley, you'd learned not to question strange things.

Besides, it was only one evening.

...Well, that's how it started, anyway.

The next invite was to a gala hosted by a Count the following year. Then there was one a few months after that, another after that, and, slowly, your name became known throughout the country, and always spoken right next to General Lilia's.

On a cold night, a dinner hosted by a member of the Senate, one you would have never even dreamed of being invited to if it were not for your suitor, something stranger happens.

"Another one," you sigh, leaning against the stone of the terrace you and Lilia had snuck off to. The night was chilly but clear, every star visible in the sky.

Lilia sits on the railing beside you. "Don't look so glum. I'm sure these events are just a fad. You know how the nobles like their trends,"

"They're just very long,"

"And very boring, I know," he sighs, rubbing his face. "And I hate to be away from the Prince, but times have changed. I can't just win a battle to stay in the Senate's good graces. I have to be..."

He gestures vaguely. "...Noble,"

You look up at him as he sits cross-legged on the stone railing. "Is that why we're..."

You can't say "lying about being engaged to the entire country", but you want to. He knows that.

"What? ...Oh, no," he says, waving you off as if you had said something silly and childish.

"I just didn't want to come to these things alone. I'd be bored senseless."

Your eyes widen with something like wrath.

"..."

He's looking at the party ahead, picking his nose. It takes him a moment to sense your glare.

"...What?"

"Are you unwell?" you suddenly snap. "For years we have been "engaged" in front of the people and the nobility and you say it's because you were bored? Do you know how many lies I've given? To my own family! And the stress of coming up with such nonsense on the spot, to people who could have me banished from court, or worse..."

Lilia stares back, wide-eyed at your sudden outburst. Then, he smiles.

"...How long have you been hiding that sharp tongue, hm?"

"That's all you have to say?"

"Goodness, no," he says, hopping down from the railing to stand in front of you, his hands folded behind his back.

He leans forward, invading your personal space, which he is ever so fond of doing. "Do you know why I chose you, out of everyone in the court?"

What kind of a question is that? You scoff.

"...No,"

Lilia smiles, and he takes a step closer. "Well, you're not as uptight as the rest of them, for one. Your family has always been a little... untraditional, we'll say. But it was also because of this,"

He flicks your forehead, almost playfully, and you blink.

"My face?"

He chuckles. "No, no, though that's certainly a bonus. I meant... before the lies and the sneaking about, the one thing I could remember about you from court, for as quiet and meek as you can be, was your imagination. You always have the most outlandish ideas, the most improbable thoughts. And yet, you speak them with such passion, when you're permitted..."

He pauses to smile.

"...Well, I knew you could come up with some lie about us, and it would be rather entertaining."

You stare back. Lilia has always had a way of surprising people, but this is...

He smirks at the look of shock on your face, taking a moment to not-so-subtly check you out, for lack of a better term, and he takes your hand in his.

Then, he says the magic words, the ones you'd been dying to hear for every event since you started this whole ruse.

"Shall we get out of here?"