#i was watching the drama but i've given it up the book is just worlds better they changed too much in the drama....

[moonlightfilly]

i've been totally consumed reading Kaleidoscope of Death it's too much fun i love gay horror

[hcneymooners]

⋆ our bodies, two wounds of love.

bodyguard!sevika x f!reader. men & minors dni.

synopsis: as the youngest daughter of a highly famous businessman, you're not at all what sevika is expecting upon receiving her assignment.

cw: modern setting, soft!sevika, reader is sugar sweet and slightly shy, reader has long hair, obsessive behavior, dubious consent, as in reader wakes sevi up properly like the eater she is but sevi consents when she wakes up, somnophilia, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, implied/referenced sex, via toys, implied strapping as god intended, overstimulation, impact play, it's pussy slapping, nipple play, squirting and vaginal ejaculation, praise kink, pet names, dom/sub undertones, minor violence, reader speaks german in this for no other reason than i've been watching the empress., soft dom!sevika, love confessions, near-death experiences, non-sexual intimacy, age difference, older woman/younger woman, mommy issues, implied lmfao, makeup sex, arguing, resolved sexual tension, masturbation in bathroom, accidental voyeurism notes: this is set to american by lana del rey. listen here. this is more emotionally heavy, but definitely my favorite. does this plot barely make sense? yes. but is the reward worth it? yes. this is a repost.

out of all her clients, you were the easiest.

sevika shouldn’t have been as surprised as she was, given the research she’d conducted. you were the youngest of four daughters, and the public fed off your penchant for privacy. finding someone like you in her line of work was a rarity: no scandals to cover up, no carefully curated drama for the tabloids. your reputation preceded you—sweet, quiet, and often tired. a homebody, mel had said with an almost indulgent smirk when sevika was handed the assignment.

“you’re lucky,” she added. “the others are a handful.”

sevika didn’t believe in luck.

the flat where she first met you was a monument to your family’s wealth. still it was tasteful—ornate without being garish, quiet grandeur woven into every polished surface. it was the kind of space that swallowed sound and softened the world's edges.

your apartment was beautiful in a way that felt intentional but not performative. soft cream and powder blue walls were traced with delicate vines and florals, the details long faded. it wasn’t pristine—scuffs on the wooden floor and fingerprints smudged onto the low, sculptural table in the center—but it was lived-in, loved in a way that gave the space its warmth.

the table itself was an anchor—organic and raw, its uneven edges smoothed by time, surrounded by cushions in muted grays and pale pinks that had lost some of their color to the steady heat of the sun. a shelf of books stretched to the ceiling, its rows crowded with novels and photography volumes, with stacks of loose papers and half-burnt cigarettes scattered between them. the window beside it was cracked open just enough to let in the sound of rustling leaves, the faint scent of rain-soaked greenery curling through the room like an invisible flatmate.

golden lamps shaped like oversized fans stood at either end of the space, their light pooling onto the woven rug beneath. it cast the room in a kind of half-glow—soft, forgiving—blurring the edges of things just enough to make them feel closer. there was something fragile about how it all fit together like it had been arranged for someone who might leave it behind at any moment.

and yet, it felt distinctly like you. the powdered jasmine in the air, the book splayed open on the armchair, the small dish of rings by the window—it was a home that asked nothing of you but to exist in it. sevika’s stormy gaze caught on an abandoned note on the window sill, the script delicate and curling.

cochem, it read. i miss you. i want to come back to you. i want to disappear inside of you and have you love me again. i want to get lost in the german morning. no one will ever know me, and i’ll be happy, less unfulfilled.

she fingered the edges of the paper, sun-bleached and flaking. then she began to walk again, navigating to what looked like the open door of your study.

you were waiting for her inside, perched in an armchair too big for your frame, as if the room had been designed to diminish you. at first glance, you looked as delicate as the furniture you sat on, barefaced and bathed in soft afternoon light that filtered through sheer curtains. it was the kind of light that made everything look fragile and translucent.

you wore an ivory blouse, thin and shimmering with embroidery that seemed to grow out of the fabric like frost patterns on glass. the neckline skimmed your collarbones, modest but deliberate, while the sleeves flared past your wrists, draping like petals. the cinched waist and pale drawstrings might have belonged to someone dressing for comfort, but on you, it was something else entirely—careless elegance.

the sweatpants should have broken the illusion. they didn’t. instead, they made you seem more unreachable, more unstudied. as if you’d wandered into this world from somewhere else—someplace softer—and were still too young to realize you didn’t belong.

sevika lingered in the doorway for a beat longer than she meant to, her presence large enough to make the room feel smaller. she expected you to bristle at the intrusion, to draw yourself up with the same cool hauteur that so often marked women of your standing. but you didn’t.

you looked up at her, eyes wide and unguarded, and smiled.

“hello,” you said. your voice was so soft, as though you feared disturbing her.

sevika’s eyes swept over you, cataloging every detail: the way your hair—long and heavy—spilled over your shoulders, catching the faint streaks of the incoming light; the way your blouse seemed to ripple as you moved, fabric clinging like a whisper to your skin.

“i’m sevika,” she said finally, voice low and steady. “your father hired my team's services to protect your family. i’ll be your bodyguard.”

you nodded and rose from the chair, the movement unhurried and deliberate. you smoothed your palms over the sides of your sweatpants—grey, nondescript, somehow lovely in the context of you—and stepped closer. you smelled faintly of something soft and fleeting: fresh linen, maybe, or soap.

“it’s nice to meet you,” you said, extending your hand, sincerity tucked neatly into every word.

sevika didn’t take it right away. there was something strange about you—something that tugged at her instincts and told her to look closer. your face was open, unguarded, but there was a sadness there, too, stitched into the curve of your mouth, in the way your lashes fell low. she watched the way you stood there, chin lifted just enough to suggest poise but not pride, eyes wide and unguarded as they searched hers for something she wasn’t used to giving.

trust.

and for the first time in a long while, sevika found herself unsure of what to do. you weren’t like the others, all obvious disdain and high expectations. nothing was demanding about you—nothing calculated or sharp. just the soft curve of your mouth, the quiet pull of your gaze, and a kindness she didn’t quite know how to meet.

she clasped your hand firmly but briefly, clearing her throat as she stepped back.

“we should go over security protocol,” she said gruffly, falling back into professionalism as a defense.

you only nodded, that same soft smile still lingering. “of course. whatever you need.”

whatever you need.

sevika didn’t believe in luck, but standing there, looking down at you—your long lashes fluttering as you turned your gaze away, the afternoon light casting faint shadows through the sheer sleeves of your blouse—she wondered, for just a second, if this was as close to it as she would ever get.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

it took three years for both of you to understand that your relationship had outgrown the typical bounds of client and employee. yes, intimacy was inevitable given the circumstances, but even a stranger would’ve seen something uncanny about how you and sevika were… connected, even for a bodyguard.

love affairs always look different to those inside them. you thought nothing of how deeply you needed her, how fondness for her had quietly rooted itself in you. sevika risked her body—her life—to keep you from harm, and it felt natural to bond, to grow into one another. time spent apart became more agonizing only relieved by the hours you were together, yet you ignored the weight of it.

your sisters often spoke of it, though only behind closed doors. you rarely engaged in their chatter. you had always been this way: dreamy, untethered, with a mind like mist and the heart of a prey animal. lame, your mother had called you, her voice sharp with disappointment. sickly, she added, as if naming your frailty might cure it. over time, it became easier to withdraw, to wrap yourself in silence, and let the world chatter on without you.

but with sevika, life required less effort. you rediscovered a tenderness for the act of living in her presence. she was patient, grounding. she found you tolerable even at your worst, and for that, you adored her. no one else had made you feel this way—not men, not women.

while you preferred women, you had dabbled with men, more out of curiosity than desire. it felt clinical, an attempt to decode them like puzzles, perhaps to better understand why you and your father clashed. women, on the other hand, unraveled you.

the realization of your love came in two parts. the first arrived in the languid quiet of a holiday evening at your family’s upstate estate.

you had overexerted yourself in a lagree class, and sevika, ever watchful, had drawn you a warm bath. you watched her through the crack of the bathroom door, your gaze catching on the soft swell of her hips, the worn strength in her movements as she stretched after finishing readying the bed for sleeping. you often shared when traveling. she sat on the edge of it, her familiar perch, closest to the door. she always did this.

it was the smallest things about her that undid you: the way her hair slipped loose from its strict ponytail, the gentle sway of the gold chain brushing against her collarbones. you’d bought her that chain during a weekend in stockholm. now, the sight of it filled you with a sudden, vicious envy. you wanted to be that close to her—always.

the need consumed you. your body buzzed with an unnamed energy, teetering on the edge of itself. you wanted to crawl out of your skin and into hers, to dissolve completely against her warmth. you wanted her blood to run through your veins, her marrow to fuse with yours. your desire was feral, deranged, trembling like a dying pathetic thing.

without thinking, your hand slipped between your thighs. the thought of her—the sharpness of her profile, the tender press of her hands on your waist at the farmer’s market earlier—burned in your mind. you focused on the ridge of her nose, her beautiful nose. everything about her pleased you.

your fingertips pressed harder into the rosy pearl of your clit, and with a wounded cry, you came undone, trembling, your gaze locked on her through the crack in the door.

as if summoned by your thoughts, sevika lifted her head and met your eyes. her stern gaze pinned you, and you sank beneath the water with sudden embarrassment, your skin flush with heat.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

the next morning, your pleasure still lingered via a morning glow on your skin. you woke to find sevika beside you, her strong shoulders rising and falling with the rhythm of her sleep. you lifted a hand and stroked her brow, cooing softly as she murmured from somewhere deep within her sleep.

she, you thought, is every woman i’ve ever wanted.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

the second realization came during an attempt to kill you.

you were the chosen target—a calculated decision. your public image, carefully nurtured by those who sought to use you, made your death a tragedy worth orchestrating. the explosive had been hidden cleverly in the heart of your favorite restaurant, the one you frequented for its thick slices of fresh bread and macadamia milk.

when it detonated, your world fractured. your vision blurred, your ears rang, and blood trickled warm and sticky down your face. the floor rose to meet you, the lacquered wood pressing cold against your cheek. the world went in and out like the weak signal of a radio. someone was screaming—it might have been your mother, though you doubted she cared enough to wail like that.

through the haze, a hand cupped your jaw, firm but careful, and your head was turned until your eyes locked on sevika’s. her gray gaze steadied you, cutting through the chaos. you raised a hand, your french manicured tips trailing lightly against her cheek. one of them, you noticed, was broken.

“[name]. [name], look at me. don’t take your eyes off me.”

“vika,” you whispered, the name slipping from your lips like a prayer. for the first time, you saw fear flicker across her face.

“it’s me,” she said softly. “you’re going to be fine, but i need to get you up. i need to get you out of here.”

you didn’t want to move. here, cradled in her hands, was where you wanted to stay.

“i can hold you, princess,” she murmured, her voice impossibly tender. “if that’s what you want. but i have to move you first. deep breath, okay? here we go.”

she lifted you as though you weighed nothing, her strength unyielding. you clung to her, your broken nails digging into her skin as she carried you through the wreckage. bodies lay strewn across the floor, and your heart broke when you recognized the familiar face of a favorite server.

“it’s okay,” sevika said, her voice a steady anchor. “look at me. just keep looking at me.”

and you did. your gaze drifted to the soft curve of her throat; your face tilted toward her as though she were the sun.

when she laid you on the stretcher, a terrible fear seized you. you reached for her, desperation clawing at your chest.

“stay with me. bitte. bitte, ich flehe dich an.”

sevika froze. if it had been anyone else, she might have refused and headed back to assess the security breach. but it wasn’t anyone else. it was you.

“i’m right behind you, sweetheart,” she promised, her hand pressing firmly to your stomach. “right behind you. just in that car.”

“danke, vika,” you murmured, your voice breaking. “du bist das, was ich brauche. nur du.”

even as the ambulance doors closed, your eyes never left her. you focused on the faint hum of her engine trailing behind you, the sound steady against the fevered rush of your heart.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

sevika was unforgiving after that, and you selfishly enjoyed the over-attention.

she stole you away, back to your flat, and hovered. always within reach, always watching, her presence as constant as the air you breathed. you hated it. you loved it.

she insisted on being in the room while you bathed, while you ate, while you tried to pretend your body wasn’t trembling from the aftershocks of the explosion. the weight of her gaze pressed into your skin like a second layer. she dressed your wounds with quiet efficiency, her fingers steady but firm, and even when you flinched, she refused to soften her touch.

“you should’ve told me this one was hurting,” she murmured one evening, crouched at your side with a damp cloth in hand. her voice was scolding, but there was an undercurrent of something wounded beneath it—something that hadn’t healed properly since the restaurant.

“it’s fine,” you said, looking anywhere but at her.

“it’s not fine,” she snapped, gripping your wrist a little too tightly before loosening her hold. “you don’t tell me when you’re in pain. you don’t—” she stopped herself, shaking her head as if to clear it.

her jaw worked, muscles tight, and you stared at the curve of her throat as she leaned over you, wiping dried blood away with the kind of precision that only made your chest ache.

“you’re smothering me,” you said softly, more to yourself than her, but her head snapped up like you’d struck her.

“you almost died,” she bit out, and the words made you flinch harder than her grip.

“but i didn’t,” you countered, hating the way your voice trembled.

you could be such a child. it crippled you, your desire to please her, to be less burdensome. she’d kill you if she knew what you were thinking. thank god it was your secret.

sevika’s lips parted, but no words came. just that unfaltering, infuriating look—one that said she knew better, that she always knew better, and that you knew this to be true. you raised a finger, traced the glistening edges of her teeth. she kept her mouth open; she never bit down.

and then one evening, you decided you’d had enough.

“i’m going out,” you said, pulling a thick coat of fur—vintage—over your shoulders.

sevika, seated in the chair by the window, didn’t look up from the blade she was sharpening. “no, you’re not.”

“yes, i am,” you replied, voice clipped.

her eyes flicked up to meet yours, the air thickening.

“why would i agree to that?” she asked, standing slowly, her full height suddenly overwhelming in the small space. “why would i let you walk out of here after i almost lost you last time?”

you laughed bitterly, shaking your head.

“let me? you’re not my keeper, vika.”

“really?” she said, stepping closer, her voice dropping to a dangerous octave. “should we do another read of my contact? i’m the person who pulled you out of the rubble. i’m the person who’s been keeping you alive, no thanks to your recklessness.”

“recklessness?” you snapped, whirling to face her fully. “if you’ve learned anything these past years, it is that i am rarely reckless. you promised me. you said you wouldn't be another dictator. you know what my life’s been like. i am allowed to have a life outside of this, outside of what has happened to me.”

her nostrils flared, and for a moment, she just stared at you, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

“you think i’m doing this for me?” she asked, her voice rough, uneven. “you think i like this?”

“yes,” you spat, the frustration spilling out of you in an unstoppable wave. “this is the most excitement i’ve given you. you must think i’m so fucking boring all of the time. so, yes, i think you’re enjoying it. it makes you feel important. ”

something in her cracked. she closed the distance between you in two steps, her hand shooting out to grip your chin, tilting your face up to hers.

“i'm enjoying this?” she growled, her breath hot against your skin. “watching you get hurt? wondering if this time i’ll be too late? don’t mistake my care for control.”

her grip softened, her thumb brushing your jaw, and suddenly, the room felt unbearably small. you could see the pulse in her throat, the heat in her gaze as her eyes searched yours.

“sevika,” you said. your self-righteousness had passed, and you were so deeply ashamed. “vika, that was unfair. i’m sorry. forgive me.”

her hand dropped to your waist, pulling you closer until you could feel the solid warmth of her body against yours. her breath was shallow, her jaw tight, but her eyes—god, her eyes. they burned with something that made your knees weak.

“bitte,” you whispered.

“i’m trying,” she said, her voice trembling, “to keep you safe. to keep myself from—”

she cut herself off, her gaze flicking to your lips. and before you could say anything, before you could breathe, her mouth was on yours.

the kiss was searing, all teeth and desperation, her hand tightening on your waist as if she was afraid you might disappear. you gasped against her, your hands finding their way to her shoulders, her neck, her hair. but just as quickly as it began, it ended. she pulled back, her breathing ragged, her eyes dark and stormy.

“don’t push me like that again,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

and then she was gone, the door slamming shut behind her, leaving you alone with the echo of her touch.

you crumpled like a paper doll and began to sob. outside, sevika, having turned back, pressed her forehead against the wall. absent-mindedly, the fingers of her prosthetic twitched and aborted their motions, jerking against the door as if fighting to feel you there.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

you needed to repay her for your abhorrent behavior.

you tried through what you knew: lavish breakfasts, waking up early to purchase her favorite flowers and sweets. you’d even carefully cleaned and oiled her prosthetic. sevika said nothing, if only not to further provoke your guilt, but you could tell she felt it was unnecessary. she was always too easy on you.

the universe, however, seemed to agree with you, and the opportunity to protect sevika came faster than you ever expected.

it was another attempt, this time at a crowded gala in the heart of the city. you hadn’t wanted to go, but sevika had insisted—you wanted to go out. besides, you need to be seen. send a message. and she had been there, of course, always in the background, a silent shadow at your side.

you saw the glint of the blade before she did.

it was instinct. your body moved before your mind caught up, and suddenly, you were between sevika and the would-be assassin, your arm jerking upward to deflect the strike with the heavy bracelet you wore. the metal screeched against the blade, and a sharp pain radiated up your arm, but you didn’t falter.

with your other hand, you snatched a knife from the cocktail table behind you. it was small but sharp, and you used it without hesitation. you didn’t feel the burn of the blade as it nicked your palm on the thrust; you only felt the sickening resistance of flesh before the assailant crumpled at your feet.

“get down!” sevika’s voice was a thunderclap, her hand gripping your shoulder as she shoved you behind her. she moved with terrifying precision, her body a blur of strength and fury as she assessed the situation in seconds.

the room was instantly bursting with chaos. a flash of silver caught your eye as sevika swung her prosthetic arm, sending one of the other assailants sprawling. blood slicked the floor, and the copper tang of it hung heavy in the air. your ears rang with the cacophony of fists, steel, and slit flesh.

you shouldn’t have done that; you knew this. the headlines would be more than money could hide.

“fuck!” sevika’s voice cut through the din, sharp and furious, as she turned to find you standing there, breathing hard, your hands stained red. “what the hell did you do?”

“i—i had to,” you stammered, your chest heaving. “you didn’t see him—”

she grabbed your arm, dragging you toward the far side of the room where the air was clearer and less stifling. the fight was dwindling; the attackers were now being rounded up by security, but sevika’s fury was just beginning.

“what were you thinking?” she hissed, her voice trembling. “do you have a death wish?”

you ripped your arm from her grasp, your own anger bubbling to the surface.

“i was saving you! or would you rather i let him stab you in the back?”

“i don’t need you to save me!” she snapped, stepping closer, her broad shoulders towering over you.

“maybe i need to,” you shot back, tears pricking at your eyes. “i refuse to just sit here and watch you die for me. i won’t. you can’t ask that of me.”

her expression faltered, the rage in her eyes dimming, replaced by something heavier, something more understanding. she often forgot how young you were.

“princess, it's not—you don’t understand,” she said. “if anything happened to you—”

“you’d what?” you interrupted, your voice wavering as you stared up at her. “fall apart? i wouldn’t be any different, vika. you're far from inconsequential. i could not survive a world without you.”

the silence between you was deafening. her gaze dropped to your trembling hands, still clutching the bloodied knife, and she let out a low, shuddering breath. more security personnel arrived, breaking the stalemate. the room was secured, and sevika took that as her cue to remove you from the premises, dragging you through the back corridors, her hand iron-tight around your wrist.

the moment the door to your shared suite slammed shut, she spun on you. her eyes glistened as she glared at you, her body taut like a bowstring.

“you don’t get it, do you?” she said, stepping closer. “i can’t—” she broke off, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

“you can’t what?” you asked, shifting toward her. “vika, tell me.”

her jaw worked, the muscles in her neck tightening as she tried to hold herself together.

“i feel like i’m so close to losing you,” she said finally, her voice low and broken.

the words hit you like a punch to the chest.

“you won’t,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “i can’t be without you in any way. i won’t allow it.”

her eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, neither of you moved. the space between you was so heavy. all you wanted was to smooth the worried line of her forehead, to share water with her, and wipe her clean.

“you can’t promise that,” she said finally.

you watched as she turned from you and slipped into the bathroom to begin getting ready for bed.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

she woke up with your head between her thighs.

sevika might’ve been more pleased about it if it wasn’t in the middle of the night. still, it wasn’t the worst way to come to.

the warmth spidered from her thighs to her hips before coiling tightly in her stomach. her eyes fluttered open, disoriented and struggling to focus. she heard you first: the wet suck of your mouth against her swollen, brown folds. you moaned somewhere deep and hidden in your chest, your hands tightening around the thickness of her thighs even though she was not yet bucking.

it took a while for her to place herself, and then it crashed into her all at once. she gasped and tucked a hand into your hair, which you removed so that you could intertwine your fingers, pressing them away from her head.

you unlatched from her and pressed a soft kiss into her stomach.

“stay still,” you commanded. “please.”

she allowed it.

you worked at her over and over, pushing the back the hood of her clit so you could roll it between your fingers like a rosy pearl. sevika let her pleasure crest until she shuddered into an unearthly orgasm, her legs snapping shut around your head just as a roll of thunder sounded through the early morning.

"couldn’t sleep?" she rasped.

you slowly unfastened her legs and raised your head from where you had been lapping at her, your full mouth glistening with her arousal. sevika sat up fully, legs shifting beneath the butter-yellow comforter, and stared down at you.

you looked back at her with wide eyes like she’d caught you sinning. you. you with your puppy eyes and open mouth. you, with your sweetness, with your eagerness when it came to her. you like a doe on the open road.

"no," you told her. "i couldn’t accept the idea that you hated me."

she sighed and cupped your cheek, thumbing across the plush skin.

"when you do or say something that displeases me, that doesn’t mean i hate you."

"if you’re displeased," you said, your voice thick across the last word, "then it feels the same to me."

with a huff of irritation, she yanked you up and into her lap, guiding you into a bruising kiss.

it wasn’t like the last time. this wasn’t desperation or fear—it was need. pure, unrelenting need. her hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against her, and you gasped into her mouth, your fingers tangling in her hair.

she shifted you easily, rolling over so that you fell beneath her. her eyes roamed over you, dark and hungry, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.

“you drive me insane,” she murmured, her voice rough as her hand trailed down your side.

“good,” you whispered, pulling her back to you.

soon, kissing wasn’t enough. you had hungered for her for so long, and she for you.

wetly, your lips broke apart, and she slid back to survey you. the soft, muted light of the room caught on the intricate lace of your undergarments. the set was exquisite; the bra cupped you perfectly. you saw sevika's jaw tighten, her hands flexing at her sides as though restraining herself from reaching for you.

“you look…” her voice faltered, her control waning. “fuck, princess.”

heat spread across your body, and you felt the lace press a little tighter against your skin as your chest rose and fell with shallow breaths.

sevika leaned in, her eyes never leaving yours. her hand rose, hesitant at first, before her fingertips brushed the embroidered lace at your shoulder. she traced the pattern down your arm, her touch light but burning, before resting her palm at your waist.

“you wore this for me?” she murmured, her voice low and dark, as her thumb swept over the sheer fabric, catching on a pebbled nipple.

“who else?” you answered, a tremor in your voice as her hand slipped to the small of your back, pulling you up into a soft arch.

she hummed in satisfaction and gently pulled your bra down so that it dipped beneath your tits as they spilled further into view. steadying you with a hand on your stomach, sevika leaned down and coaxed a hard bud into her mouth.

the wet heat of her mouth was akin to a strike of lightning. you moaned as she increased the pressure of her teeth, suckling eagerly at your chest as you pushed desperately into her touch. by instinct, your legs rose to cross behind her hips, forcing her to settle on top of you.

she let go of your nipple with a wet pop and switched to the other, beginning to work her way down your body with a pleased exhale. your panties didn’t even put up a worthy fight. they just slid right down, the fabric bunching around your thighs. the scrap of fabric had barely covered your cunt anyway, your thatch of hair poking through as if to tease her.

she watched your lips gleam and glisten, your pussy drooling with arousal and as deliciously plump as the rest of you. sevika pressed her mouth against it, practically a dog in heat, and relished the way you shivered up against her.

“vika,” you moaned and turned your face to the side in the way you did when you were overcome with embarrassment.

“baby,” she murmured, shifting so that she could force you to look at her. “baby, is this all for me?”

you whined, and sevika smirked, dipping her head down to lick a flat stripe up your dripping cunt.

“vika, fuck,” you cried, and she hummed, hooking a hand around one of your legs to pull it up so that you were further exposed. your clit was swollen and calling out for her.

pulling back, she used her free hand to part your lips so that she could watch the way you clenched around nothing. slick ran steadily down to the crack of your ass, a syrupy stream of desire. carefully, she stroked a metallic finger through your heat, holding you down as she began to rub your clit in tight circles.

“look at that pussy,” she murmured. “can’t believe it’s all mine, princess. thank you. thank you, baby.”

sevika couldn’t help herself and lifted her hand, bringing it down to slap against your cunt. you squealed, and she pressed a kiss to your thigh, delighting in your loss of composure. she considered you beneath her, your body slick and shining with sweat as you writhed. she rained two more strikes across your pussy in quick succession, dropping her head down and sliding her fingers in to let your buck into her open mouth and lolling tongue.

“taste so fucking good, princess,” she purred into you. “that’s it. ride my face, sweet girl. take what you want from me. take what you need.”

you gripped the bed, angling her hips so that you could drag her deeper into the cavern of your cunt. mewling, you trapped her between the link of your legs as you snapped upward and arched, cumming with a high sob.

“oh my god, vika.”

“just me,” she teased.

sevika waited for a couple of seconds before pushing up and rearranging you, sliding your back against her chest. carefully, she pushed your legs back apart and tucked three fingers up into your cunt, building a rhythm until she was thrusting hard enough that the overstimulation made you scream. you curled over yourself, your nails raking down her muscled thighs.

she milked you, patient and unrelenting, until you began to bounce on your own. you rode her hand. hard. slowly, your gummy walls tightened around her, whimpering through the flashes of pain and pleasure before you came again with a silent wail. sevika held you as you shook apart, whispering a stream of steady praises into your ear.

“good girl,” she cooed. “look at how good you are, princess. you needed this, huh? you’ve been begging for it, so desperate to cream all over me. such a good fucking girl.”

you slumped down, whimpering weakly as she pulled away from you. you felt her get up, slipping off the bed and walking somewhere into the darkness of the room. soon, she returned but not alone. you began to come back to yourself, and in doing so, you were able to focus on what she held in your hands.

“vika, that won’t fit.”

in her hand was a navy harness and matching dildo, girthy and ribbed. you tilted your head as she closed in, your hands finding her waist as if by instinct.

“sevika,” you whispered, your voice breaking as her lips trailed down your jaw, her teeth grazing your throat.

“quiet, baby,” she muttered against your skin, and you sighed softly, the sound catching in your throat as her hands slid lower, gripping your hips with a possessiveness that made you shiver. "you know you can take it."

you let out a pathetic, wet cry as she prodded at your puffy cunt, and her face softened. she pulled you closer, peppering your face with soft kisses. there was only her—her heat, her weight, her breath against your skin.

again she watched you, gripping you firmly from beneath your thighs as she nestled the tip of the dildo at the entrance of your pussy.

“princess,” she called to you, and you blinked blearily, clutching at her. “consider this forgiveness.”

it was all you ever wanted.

© hcneymooners.

translations.   bitte — please. bitte, ich flehe dich an — please i beg of you. danke — thank you. du bist das, was ich brauche. nur du. — you are what i need. only you.

[welcometothejianghu]

Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching reading. Today's choice: 死亡万花筒 / Kaleidoscope of Death.

Kaleidoscope of Death is a 2018 Chinese webnovel about two young men who fall in love while basically playing a whole bunch of horror-themed escape rooms that can for-real kill you.

This novel was gripping. I could not put it down. It started out fun and ended up ripping out my heart several times. It does a good job getting the ball rolling with a series of adventures in weird worlds, then turns into a meditation about grief and loss and what it means to have something to lose in the first place.

This is the first time I've ever done a book rec! I'm doing it in conjunction with a rec post for the Spirealm, and originally I was just going to do this as a bonus section for that post. However, I felt they both deserve whole different posts, because they both have very different things to recommend them. I also think Kaleidoscope of Death a 100% necessary read if you've seen the show, because it provides some context that the show simply cannot include -- but it's not a necessary read before you see the show.

Therefore, I'm going to give you five reasons I think you should sit down with this one, and not a single one of these reasons is going to assume you've watched the Spirealm! The book is great and deserves to be read on its own merits, and then if you then start watching the drama afterwards, so much the better.

1. All the Cross-Dressing

(Yeah, I'm going to punctuate this one with screencaps from the Spirealm, because otherwise it's just a wall of text.)

I'm not going to tell you why the male characters frequently dress and pass as women, since the book explains the practicality of it better than I could. You just need to know that they often do, and it's never not kinda hot when it happens.

When you first meet Ruan Nanzhu, it is as Ruan Baijie, a stunningly beautiful and noticeably tall woman. Lin Qiushi, our POV character who is extremely confused for a number of reasons, spends the first whole arc talking and thinking about Baijie like she's a girl. In fact, one of the cutest things about sweet, earnest Qiushi is that he clocks Baijie several times, and every time he's just like, oh, she's so flat-chested, how unusual for a girl, anyway...

And this isn't even just dressing up! Stepping into the door worlds changes you physically based on your clothing and cosmetics. Nobody inside looks the same as they do outside, and nobody looks the same inside as they did last time they were inside. The rules that govern these transformations aren't even clear to the characters themselves! So, you know, have fun with that.

I'm going to say it's not an out-and-out trans thing, in that we're not dealing with an AMAB egg who will crack someday. Ruan Nanzhu is a very male-identified, penis-having man! He's just also pretty entertainingly comfortable with performing whatever gender makes him the most fuckable person in any given room. Lin Qiushi is not so inherently genderfluid, however, which means that when his gremlin sort-of-boyfriend makes him pretend to be a girl, it's a completely different kink.

Therefore: If you like it in any way when boys dress up like girls, you owe it to yourself to pick up this one. And if you like a fandom that likes it when boys dress up like girls, baby, welcome to the world inside the doors.

2. Those boys GAY

This is a textual romance. Lin Qiushi and Ruan Nanzhu are in love. This is a danmei novel about how they fall in love. There is kissing and there are fade-to-black scenes that explicitly acknowledge that the two of them have sex with one another. We even know that Ruan Nanzhu (usually) tops. This s not just me pointing at them and saying gaaaaaaaaaay. This is actual gay.

And it is gay that takes its fucking time. They do not actually hook up until well over halfway through the book, but they are physically affectionate from almost the get-go. Ruan Nanzhu is such a trickster and a liar that Lin Quishi finds it hard to believe that anything he does is sincere, which leads to nearly lesbian levels of wondering if it means anything when a guy demands you kiss him on the mouth when he's pretending to be your girlfriend. Meanwhile, Ruan Nanzhu is over here being the Kate Beaton comic about sitting here consumed with lust all evening.

Even once they both acknowledge what they're feeling for one another, they don't get together right away. After all, they're playing a game of life and death where they lose friends left and right. Every time someone goes inside the door, there's a real chance they won't come out again. Is giving your heart to someone worth how much it will destroy your entire life when you lose them?

(Yes, says the book. Yes, it is worth it.)

The slow burn of their relationship is delicious, in part because the physical (though not sexual) aspects of it predate the romantic ones. It also has the fun hot-and-cold aspect where Ruan Nanzhu is incredibly affectionate inside the doors, then icy outside of them. Poor completely inexperienced, never-been-kissed Lin Qiushi does not know what to make of any of this. He can barely manage parenting a cat. He does not know how to handle a boyfriend who is also a girlfriend who is also (spiritually) a cat.

I also find it charming how much the gay part of it both is and isn't an issue. It's not that Lin Qiushi has a problem being in love with a man; however, the fact that Ruan Nanzhu is a man does mean the heteronormally indoctrinated and relationship-inexperienced Lin Qiushi takes much longer to realize what exactly those feelings he's having are. The book's world is one where heterosexuality is the assumed default, while queerness is unexpected but everybody's still pretty cool with it. Besides, no one's going to judge Lin Qiushi's gay yearnings, because who doesn't want to fuck Ruan Nanzhu?

3. HAKO ONNA HAKO ONNA HAKO ONNA

So as I was reading through @zintranslations' earlier chapters, I kept seeing translators' notes down at the bottom about being so excited to finally get to the Hako Onna arc. Okay, I thought, this is a lot of hype; I hope it doesn't disappoint.

Friends, it does not. This is the arc I was reading while screaming into a pillow. It's thirteen chapters long, tied for the longest arc in the book with the first door. It is a fucking nail-biter. It does the clever thing of taking all the things you've learned about what can happen inside the doors and combining them for a worst-case scenario.

The setup is pretty simple: There's a bunch of boxes. One has the exit. Most are empty. Some have things that help you. Some have things that hurt you. The more things you find that hurt you, the more things there are to hurt you. And you have to open the boxes.

All the door arcs are pretty well-written, so that you can more or less play along with their various adventures. Hako Onna, however, is exceptional. It's so complicated, but you can actually follow it. And you need to be able to follow it, because the multiple emotional gut-punches that happen in this arc all depend on understanding how the rules of the game have just been leveraged to fuck someone over.

Now I really want to play the board game -- which I was pleased to discover is a real board game! And speaking of board games...

sidebar: Betrayal at House on the Hill

I know this isn't technically related to the novel at all, but if you like board games, horror, and being incredibly dramatic, you owe it to yourself to try out Betrayal at House on the Hill.

It goes like this: You and several other horror-movie archetypes wander through a mansion, "building" it as you explore it, so the game layout is different every time. At some point (and it's based on so many random factors that you never know when it'll be) someone triggers a condition, and the haunting begins. All the players then get the rules of haunting explained to them -- except for one player, the one picked to do the titular betrayal, who gets a different set of instructions and becomes the antagonist. From that point on, the game is about either surviving or completing the haunting, depending on which side you're on.

I have played this game before with normal board game people, and they were like, eh, this is fine. I have also played this game before with theatre kids who RP and LARP, and we all had a fucking blast. So I'm going to warn you that you have to choose your crowd carefully. This is a game for people who do improv and voices.

4. The art of losing isn't hard to master

The book has a high body count -- higher than the show's, in fact, though that's related to how the book also has more characters than the show does. When you meet someone who can go into the doors, be careful how much money you'd lay on their survival.

Death after the doors comes so quickly, too. There's barely any time to say goodbye, if there's even any time at all. Often there's just a phone call telling our main characters that one of their friends or allies or enemies is gone.

Everyone who gets the chance to go through the door worlds is only able to do so because they're dying already. The more doors they pass, the more they get to kick that death further down the road -- but the more doors they enter, the more chances they take that they might die inside one. So really, none of the players can be that resentful of being forced to play a game that can kill them, since they're already playing it on borrowed time.

I will say, somewhat cryptically, that the book has a positive ending that leaves open the possibility for other positive things. The path to that positive ending, though, leads through some pretty wrenching takes on living through grief. It's not even all rah-rah and it-gets-better, either -- the text acknowledges many times over what it means to have someone that life isn't worth living without.

And that's maybe not what you expected from a BL horror adventure webnovel, but it's what you're gonna get! Ha ha!

5. What He Is

Which is the title of the first extra chapter, which is not extra at all, but is in fact a necessary explanatory piece that whacks you upside the head like a two-by-four and recontextualizes the entire story.

...Yeah, that's all you're going to get from me about that. You'll understand when you get there.

Have you put it on your reading list yet?

The way you have to read it is a little convoluted: @zintranslations has chapters 1-17 and 63-end + extras. Taida Translations has chapters 1-62. So no matter where you start reading, you're going to have to switch sites at least once.

There are also apparently Portuguese, Indonesian, Russian, and Spanish translations too? And the original Chinese webnovel, of course. And some audio dramas and subs linked to from this Carrd, which helpfully has other information, like content warnings for specific chapters, in case the horror aspect of the story gives you pause.

Anyway, once you're done reading it -- or even before you're done! -- you should absolutely go watch the Spirealm. I think it's clear from both rec posts that I definitely like the book better, but I appreciate having the drama to bring so many scenes to life, and I think the casting is great. Also, I don't think reading the book makes you like the drama less! Rather, I think reading the book gives you insight into the awkward and sometimes terrible choices the drama had to make to survive -- which in turn gives you the ability to see through those choices, on to what the show always wanted in its heart to be.

I do find it funny how "Kaleidoscope of Death" and "Death's Kaleidoscope" technically mean the same thing, but they sure read different, don't they?

[overthestars-and-offtoneverland]

Some People Will Not Believe Me

If it's any consolation, this story slightly embarrasses me because it feels like some fake shit I'd tell younger me to hype myself up in an attempt to convince them it might be worth making it to adulthood.

So, I work in childcare. I interact with kids all the time and being a person who enjoys children's media tends to help me bond with my kids from time to time.

There is a little girl at my job named Violet.

Now, me being me, I asked if she liked A Series of Unfortunate Events because she's in the target age group for the series.

She says yes and that she is a big fan of Violet Baudelaire, though her parents don't really like her watching the Netflix series because they think it has scary subject matter (literally the point, but go off). I suggest the books to her and inform her that I myself have been a fan of the series since I was a little younger than her.

We bond a little over the series and then I physically watch her eyes drift down.

To my left ankle.

And, in spite of my tattoo being the book version rather than the Netflix version, she immediately recognizes it.

She proceeds with a suspicious squint in my direction.

And let me tell you the amount of dopamine and serotonin that rushed into my brain! I have been waiting forever to have a moment like this!

Truth be told, other children have recognized my tattoo and given me this look in passing. Usually in bookstores, once in a Pizza Hut, don't asked questions.

But none of them actually said anything or confronted me and I would never just walk up to some random child that doesn't have some form of relation to me.

But this child was one of my students. And she was certainly going to confront me about it.

And her name is Violet???

Hence begun the world's weirdest coincidence and playful rivalry I now have with a child as she has decided I must be her personal Firestarter Nemesis (all a game, all in good fun).

She has accused me of being Count Olaf to other students. (I even got to pull a "What eye tattoo?" once)

She taunts me that I'll never get away with my schemes.

She loves the Count Olaf impression I occasionally do with my students (I'm an art and drama teacher lol. Fun fact: Kids love when you commit to a bit and are slightly and jokingly mean i.e. "It's time to go home, hun" vs *looks at them bluntly* "Go home." Gotta be able to read your audience though)

Tell me why this child has walked into the facility with fake, giant hundred dollar bills two days in a row giving me a physical "fortune" to steal?

Gotta say I'm doing way better than Olaf because I've succeeded twice (again, all in good fun. She got it back after I got my gloating out of the way).

Point being, adulthood is fucking weird, but occasionally life lets your inner child have some fun.

[mywingsareonwheels]

Having now watched the first two episodes of Shardlake, some observations:-

please could modern tv dramas learn that realistic lighting is less important than being able to see things. I've encountered worse than this but Still.

that Romanian castle on a mountain is just not convincing me as a monastery on Romney Marsh in Kent oh dear Gods. Especially with only 100 monks. They'd rattle around in there.

I know it's winter but... working farmland in the grounds anyone, rather than just a few random sheep and chickens? Especially given they brew their own beer?

people in Tudor England demonstrated to be so ableist they have not noticed that the prettiest lawyer in all of London is among them just because he's disabled. I mean SRSLY.

really really enjoying it though.

magnificent acting throughout but especially Arthur Hughes as Shardlake is just... oh my life. My expectations were high (I've seen him in Richard III and he's just the best ever), and he more than lives up to them.

ooh, Gollum's daughter! (Delivering another smashing performance.)

I remember quite liking Jack Barak in the book! In this I admit I want to throw things at him. Anthony Boyle's doing an excellent job, it's just.. yeah. He's still interesting though, just less likeable. :-)

this is a very crapsack world interpretation of Henry VIII's England, but not necessarily unrealistically so under these circumstances. Everyone is either traumatised, appalling, or both. (I admit that the crapsackness is why I eventually gave up on the book series, though I'm finding it a lot more tolerable on telly.)

no really, the acting is stunning. Everyone's a pleasure to watch, deeply compelling.

my eternal love for shows that have visibly disabled characters played by visibly disabled actors (even if Arthur Hughes is not disabled in all the ways Matthew is!). <3 You can tell that Hughes has had some input. And he's not the only disabled actor in it! :-)

Talking of the prettiest lawyer in all of London:-

[image description: an unedited screenshot from the first episode of Shardlake, showing Arthur Hughes (a white man in his early 30s) as Matthew Shardlake. He has short light brown hair, pale skin, a short beard, blue eyes, a dark blue doublet. You can see his head and shoulders, and can just make out that the character has scoliosis. He's in a darkish room though with a window letting in light in the background, and there is candlelight on his face. He is looking to his right, wistful or melancholy.]

[scentedsstuff]

We Free the Stars

By Hafsah Faizal

Rating: 2.5/5⭐️

The sequel to ‘We Hunt the Flame,’ a book which I have raved over and easily rated 5 stars was always going to have a lot to live up to, and the sequel, whilst enjoyable simply couldn’t do that.

Spoiler alert for any readers who have yet to read this and are meaning to, I will be discussing specific scenes and details within the books so beware.

Quick Plot Summary:

The Zumra have made it out of Sharr but the battle is far from over. Though Altair has been captured, time is of the essence and so Zafira, Nasir and Kifah must make their way to Sultan's keep if they wish to save not only their friend but their people.

With the stakes so high and an inevitable confrontation with the Lion looming near, Zafira and Nasir have to deal with far more than just personal trials and trepidations.

Thoughts:

Yes, we have our main band of characters whom I adore, and we've got a mission that has since expanded since the first book, but along the way it all became too much.

What I mean specifically is that there was so much happening in the book at the same time that I felt the plot was lost at times. The author dwelt on certain parts of the book more than needed and this was done multiple times which made it feel as though the book was dragging on, especially in the first half of the book.

All the drama and overall commotion seemed to overshadow certain revelations and plot twists. At some point I stopped caring and was just watching it all unfold. I still cared about the main band of characters, Zafira, Nasir, Kifah and Altair and side characters such as Yasmeen and Lana, but best believe when other names, characters and situations were being introduced I was not trying to retain any of that information anymore.

The romance: do I still enjoy the pair? yes, yes I do. My annoyance with them was the fact that it seemed like their problems were so repetitive and being dragged on for much longer than it needed to be (in my opinion). The book is already lengthy, and had so much going on, adding this onto it didn't help.

Another part of the book I just couldn't get into for some reason: Altair and his temporary villain streak. I don't know, I just couldn't buy into it, the whole time I was like 'ok do what you gotta do I guess, but he's probably going to go back to the Zumra by the end of this so....." Even with the whole "plot twist" of Aya betraying the gang, especially with her being Benyamin's wife and all, we had just met her in this second book so I honestly didn't care. In my mind all I'm thinking is 'man I feel kinda bad for Benyamin.' I didn't care that she did this due to her own personal pain, or that she still loved Altair or that Altair still loved her, there was not a single fiber of my being that cared for this plotline.

Nasir and Zafira are at odds for a good portion of the book whether its jealousy or unresolved feelings or fears. I would've cared more but again, so much was already going on. There is more time given to Lana (Zafira's younger sister) and her understanding of her gifts and talents and where she finds herself in the world. Through Altair's time with the Lion (who he's since found out is his father) we get a glimpse into his past, backstory and overall driving motivations. We get a glimpse into Altair and Aya (Benyamin's wife) and their whole situation/doomed lover's tale. The sultan (Nasir's father) is a reoccurring character and has moments where he is so petty (which at times entertained me because he was stirring up drama) but this ultimately sets up future reveals. Nasir's mother pops up again. Kifah's former troop makes an appearance and gets her thinking about her past and how that affects where she'll go from here. And so much more which I've probably failed to mention.

But it's all so much, and this is only the final book in this duology. To each their own, but overall, I was disappointed with this book. The concluding chapters were very sweet and there were moments found within the book that I genuinely enjoyed but not enough to warrant anything above 2.5 stars.

[mermaidsirennikita]

ARC REVIEW: A Fate Inked in Blood by Danielle L. Jensen

4.5/5. Releases 2/27/24.

Heat Index: 6.5/10.

Vibes: vIKINGS!!!!, slutty guy/serious girl, "oops I'm married to your dad", and legitimately intense battle and magic stuff that actually works and puts people in those heartrending situations where it's all "STAY ALIVE!!!!! I WILL FIND YOU!!!!!!!!!" as it should in a FANTASY ROMANCE

Married to a man she hates and hiding the fact that she's the child of a minor goddess (children of gods are a Thing in this world) Freya lives a life of drudgery. Until, that is, her secret is revealed to all and Jarl Snorri declares that she's a prophesied shieldmaiden, meant to clinch him the kingdom he's always wanted. As such, she must marry him--kind of an issue, as she is very, very attracted to Snorri's son Bjorn. Another issue: Bjorn has been bound to Freya as her protector. On top of everything, Freya's goddess-given abilities are obscure but dangerous, leading her to wonder if her fate is less that of a protector than that of a monster...

OOOOH WE'VE GOT SOMETHING HERE. I've read Danielle L. Jensen before, way back in the day with her Malediction books--but those were YA (albeit, pretty hot YA) and I really don't read YA anymore. However, I do like Viking Shit, and I especially liked the idea of a romance between a Viking lady and her husband's SON, which was something I always wanted to happen on Vikings. So I picked it up.

And dude. It sucked me right in. I am, as I will get into more below, kind of a hard sell on fantasy romance--when it works, I am HOOKED but when it doesn't I am quickly turned off. This is the former. I was so drawn to Freya, a heroine who does have Chosen One aspects, but is also very human and just trying to make it work, one battle at a time. (Also? She's not instantly gREAT at fighting, how refreshing.) And I absolutely fell head over heels dumb girl for our hero Bjorn, who I expected to be a stoic silent warrior type. NO. He's so much better. He's like, an amazing warrior--but is also so funny and super slutty and just a BRO. I love him. Protect him.

The fantasy plot is compelling and doesn't get so in love with itself that it's impossible to follow. It's really good! I'm excited by this! Can't wait for the next! (What a relief, God.)

Quick Takes:

Here's my issue with fantasy romance (or romantasy, though I'll point out that this series is billed as "fantasy romance" on Netgalley, and that is so HOT to me): often, though the name implies that it's a subgenre of romance with a heavy fantasy bent... It's basically fantasy (well-done or not) with a romance subplot tucked in. The character work is shoddy, the tension is nil, and you can tell that the author is just trying to horn in on the romance audience. Not so, here. 

First off, I think Jensen was really smart to create a fantasy world that is very "Vikings But Fantasy". It's not poorly drawn. You can tell that she's really into the Norse vibe, and I will say that I am biased because as someone who has somehow been watching the Vikings franchise since its inception (pray for me) I'm fairly familiar with it on that level. But the way she weaves the fantasy elements, most distinctly the idea of these empowered children of gods (who are basically made when their mortal parents HAVE THREESOMES WITH GODS??? Amazing. Just imagine having these superpowers and knowing that it's because your parents took some dude home from the bar one night and he turned out to be Thor.) into the story is really natural.

Secondly... There is a really compelling plot, yes. I am really into the duality of Freya, don't get me wrong. I really like the royal intrigue. All the WIFE DRAMA. It's My Brand. But the real heart of this story, very openly and honestly and presented without any self-consciousness, is Freya and Bjorn. And I think Jensen just lays it all out there the moment she introduces the brilliant plot device of "Bjorn's Dad, Who Freya Is Technically Married To, Wants Bjorn To Follow Freya Around And Make Sure She Doesn't Get Into Danger". Oh, so he's supposed to protect her as she hurtles into adventure and fights Viking zombies and shit? HOW CONVENIENT. Throughout the story, their immediate physical attraction melts into this emotional slow burn... and I am also a hard sell on a slow burn, so thank you for doing it right, Danielle. The book is single POV (Freya's, though I wouldn't mind Bjorn's in a future installment) but you can just tell that Bjorn is so mad that he's this into a woman who is technically his stepmother. Like, he can have anyone! But he wants HER. But he can't have her! 

Picture me gobbling this up like a raccoon in a trash can.

--Speaking of! If you're all "ew, I hate that Freya is married to his dad"--no spoilers, but this is dealt with in a way that I think both avoids the ick that some readers (to be clear: not me, I am very resistant to ick) may feel over that setup, and avoids a copout. 

At the same time... First off, Bjorn doesn't fully know that the ick has been avoided, and to be frank, I don't think Bjorn really cares about a little ick. But he does have like, you know, the "WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME" vibe for a while, and it is delicious. All very illicitaffairs.mp3.

--I also really loved that there is no mistake about Freya being a GROWN WOMAN. I strongly, strongly object to shelving this as New Adult, because regardless of her age, Freya (and honestly Bjorn as well) has been through a lot. She's literally married when we open this novel. She gets a second husband. She is not a virgin; her marriage was not chaste; it sucked. (To be clear: you don't get a lot of insight into Freya's first marriage beyond "it sucked" because it's dealt with pretty quickly. You don't see any sexual assault on the page in this book, and I don't know that Freya would see it that way? It's alluded to as "lie back and think of England" bad, gross sex, which I think suggests assault, but there is not any explicit violence, sexual or otherwise, depicted in either of her marriages.) She is JADED. She has never had a man like, take care of her.

And then she gets linked up with local dude who's snarking at her horrible husband about how he must not go down on her enough, and she's all "WHAT'S THAT MEAN :/". I really, really enjoy a pairing that involves a tough woman who's never been properly taken care of and a man who's like "I am DESPERATE to take care of you". Freya deserves!

--Another good choice: often, in fantasy romance (or at least in fantasy romance of yore; I feel like there has been a recent push to correct this, at least somewhat) the heroine is hypercompetent. She's smart, she's a good fighter, she's a femme fatale, she's the seventeen-year-old master assassin...

Freya is... a person. She does want to fight, and she is--not surprisingly, as she does come from a culture in which women do fight--not incapable of holding her own. Somewhat. But as soon as she's up against a master warrior like Bjorn, she's kind of not great, Bob, and even with the benefit of her goddess-given abilities, she still has a lot to learn. It's giving "Book One Aang", and I'm good with that. I'm actually much happier with her giving Book One Aang as a twenty-something woman because like? Give us hope, Freya.

She also doesn't have all the answers. Frankly, Freya doesn't have 80% of the answers, and she shouldn't, because she's new to this. She's new to the magic stuff (though she knew she had it, which I did like--she's not an Alina Starkov-level "WHAAAT" about it) and she's new to the court intrigue, and frankly she's new to Hot Dudes. Speaking of, she does spend a decent amount of brain time going "STOP! STOP, SELF! DO NOT LOOK! DO NOT TOUCH!" Which, frankly, I loved. I feel like that's the kind of behavior people are going to be annoying about because people are dying, but like. This woman just spent years surrounded by Village 2's and suddenly she's being swung around and guarded by a very flirtatious Royal 12. Give her a break. I would be much worse. 

And she doesn't know what the hell she's doing with this man. She knows the mechanics, but she doesn't know the FINESSE. Speaking of...

The Sex:

The reason why I'm between a 6 and a 7 on this (and that's not quality, that's literally just how hot the book is re: sex acts) is that the story is a slow burn. Everything sexy happens in the back half, and you don't get to the full shebang until pretty late in the game. It's ABOUT THE YEARNING.

However, I think this was a good choice, and when we do get those scenes they are super hot (and explicit, though not like Sierra Simone explicit to be clear) and passionate and you definitely get the sense that it's this giant deal for these two. I was quite touched. I was like "awww" but also "oh" which is where I want to be when a story builds to two people hooking up for that long.

And Jensen fully takes advantage of the "Vikings" component and does have some "under the sleeping furs with 76 people sleeping in the near vicinity but we just need to get this done" action here. Which. Brava.

I'll be honest--I was worried about this, as I feel like I've been let down by a great fantasy romance in the past. I, much like several people in this novel, have been burned before. Not so here. I'm fully on board. I loved where we left off, and I cannot wait to see where those two crazy kids go next. Hopefully, like. To Vikings divorce court. So she can end that marriage to his dad.

Thanks to Netgalley and Del Rey for providing me with a copy of this book. All thoughts and opinions are my own.

Preorder:

Amazon

B&N

Bookshop.org

[mzannthropy]

So I've just rewatched Book of Love and I think it's better than people care to admit.

When I first heard of the film, I hated it just from its description (an unsuccessful writer finds unexpected success in Mexico bc the translator took liberties with his book and wrote in a lot of smut), but I watched it when it was out and was relieved to see they somehow made it work. I mean they still probably got everything wrong about the publishing industry; not that I know the ins and outs of it. However I think the premise is not as wild as it sounds. Henry seems to come from a posh, old money type of family so he would get an opportunity to release a book albeit a not very good one (though it's never said it's not good, just boring). And the publisher might easily be a small, independent publisher, not one of the big ones. What I most struggled with initially was the book blowing up in Mexico, after being translated into Spanish, when Spanish is spoken in like half the Western Hemisphere, so it should have been successful everywhere. But if it was an obscure release, it doesn't seem as unreasonable? I mean, Maria is not a full-time translator, she does it as a side hustle, so she might not get to translate, say, Stephen King or even Colleen Hoover, lol. Anyway, nothing in the film says the book (and the sequel on which they're working on) won't find success in the rest of the Spanish-speaking world.

What I wanted to say, though, is that I like this romance and it's actually similar to Daisy and Billy, except there's no infidelity and no drugs. Henry at first has no interest in working with Maria, and she is very laid back compared to his stiff English manner, but Pedro, the Mexican publisher (and the highlight of the film, honestly, the best character) manages to persuade him, using only a couple of lines--this is where they made the premise work. You can look at him as a combination of Teddy Price and Rod Reyes. (I think he's supposed to be gay?) They even work on the book's sequel in his house. Also, he totally ships them, lol.

Maria has a son from a previous relationship with a complete douchebag and Henry makes an effort to bond with him. Also we hear Sam speaking Spanish here, something that DJATS (in which Sam's character was married to a Latina woman) never even attempted to do.

What I like best about Book of Love is that it avoid tired jokes about English vs Mexican food, although generally, of course, the differences in cultures are mentioned. Also the fact that they're from different backgrounds: Henry - privileged, Maria - less so, and, you know, the small fact that Maria is a woman trying to make it as a writer. If nothing else, the locations in Mexico are gorgeous.

The film won an Imagen award for Best Primetime Program - Special of Movie, Imagen awards are given for best Latin/Hispanic representation. And was nominated for Best Casting in Feature Film and Drama by Casting Directors Association. So that's at least some recognition.

[amethystina]

Hi hi <3

I've been rewatching TDJ and rereading the fic (yes I'm on a marathon) and I was seriously wondering how I would feel about the The Trial Live Show (I think that's the name?? I forgot) if I was inside the drama universe. And I admit that despite wanting to believe that I would have a critical opinion about this whole situation, honestly with all the injustice in the world I would probably just be relieved that someone had a effective attitude and influence on everything that was happening.

What would it be your opinion if this all happened irl?

P.S (not related but I saw your other post about how some people have been pressuring – intentionally or not – for you to release the new chapter and complaining that is taking long. I just want to say that your only obligation is to take care of yourself and do what you want to do in your own time and limit. You've already given to us, readers, everything that you can and we appreciate all the effort and love that is put into your works. Thank you very very much.)

Hi! Now that's an interesting question! And it depends a lot on the context, I'd say.

Like, my view on the Live Court Show as the person I am right now is probably very different from how I'd view it if I'd actually grown up in that world. And the difference is a little too big for me to be able to account for all the nuances — and not only because I assume I'd have to change nationality, first of all? xD Which is a pretty big thing since the culture one grows up in can colour one's understanding of the world to a very big extent. My values and experiences would most likely be pretty different.

So while the me right now, in this world, can say that I would be VERY critical of the Live Court Show, I'm not sure I'd feel the same if I was actually IN that world. Me now am concerned not only about the popularity contest aspect that Lawyer Ko pointed out — which would only grow worse and worse the longer the show kept going. Like, people would form a bond with the people they saw the most — i.e. the judges — and not the people involved in the actual trials, who are literal strangers and not as interesting. Aside from the beauty and charm factor that Jin Joo mentions, most people would just end up siding with the familiar players they've formed a relationship with, regardless of the facts presented. If the judges were leaning in one direction, the majority of the public probably would as well.

I mean, just look at Judge Judy. Most people watch it for Judge Judy, not the people who come to her courtroom. They're side characters in her show, even if it's their lives that are being judged (literally).

And, adding to that, the general public aren't experts at law and don't really understand what a lot of the terms mean — or the repercussions of their choices. Their judgement is based almost solely on emotion. And there's a reason why jury members are sometimes excluded because they're seen as too partial, coloured by what the media have been saying or their own beliefs. It wouldn't be a fair and neutral trial. But here you have an entire population who have no such restrictions, nor do they have the time to fully study each piece of evidence or understand what is actually being said. They're asked to make a decision based solely on a couple of colourful PowerPoint presentations — within a couple of minutes, no less.

Like, I'm a librarian, yeah? (though I don't work at a library right now) And trust me when I say that the last thing we'd want is for the patrons to start putting the books back on the shelves on their own. They mean well, but sometimes there's stuff you have to do with the books before they can be reshelved, not to mention that most patrons don't actually understand the classification system. That's the librarian's job. So if the patrons were the ones to put the books back, a lot of them would end up in the wrong place and it'd be a complete mess within a couple of weeks. No one would find anything. And the librarians would now have to spend a significant amount of time reorganising and moving misplaced books, which is just terribly inefficient. Having patrons involved in the process actually makes it harder than if we'd just done it ourselves from the beginning.

And there's a danger of something similar happening with a court where the entire population can be on the jury. What if they make a mistake? Because they misjudged the situation? Or they couldn't be given all the evidence during the show's runtime? Also, while the drama never mentioned it, appeals are a thing. Do you really think that Ju Il Do didn't hire someone to start on his appeal as soon as he calmed down from the shock of the verdict in that first episode? Would the Live Court Show handle appeals, too? Or would that be dumped into the laps of other courts? And just how much weight would the people's judgement have in comparison to a regular court, which spends a lot more time scrutinising the evidence?

(I might be thinking too much about this, I know xD)

BUT, at the same time, it's easy for me — the person I am right now — to say that, because I'm privileged as fuck. I grew up poor, sure, (and perhaps have more accumulated trauma than average) but I'm comfortably middle class now. Adding to that, I'm white, living in Sweden, and am pretty comfortable with the gender I was assigned at birth. The worst forms of oppression I've faced are misogyny, some casual fatphobia, and the fear of homophobia (with me being married to another woman and all). But do note that I say "fear of homophobia," not actual homophobia. So, really, I'm not in a position to judge, ESPECIALLY not the ones living in the world they portray in The Devil Judge.

In fact, that's something I kept telling my wife as I explained the drama to her. My morals right now are not applicable to a world like that. I think the Live Court Show has a lot of flaws and Yo Han's actions shouldn't be condoned (cool motive — still murder) but if I had gone through the economic crisis they were experiencing? And the oppression they face every day? And probably wouldn't have been able to marry my wife since it seems to be a pretty conservative society?

I can't promise I wouldn't have been queueing up to join Yo Han xD

I DO think I'd still be hesitant to fully support the Live Court Show, though, and see the flaws I mentioned above (plus all the others I don't have time to get into right now) BUT my feeling of helplessness might just overpower that, had I grown up like Jin Joo or Ga On. That's not to say that I'd necessarily think it was okay (especially the outright illegal parts), but I could maybe look the other way, just because I was so frustrated.

So it's difficult to say for sure, but I'm fairly confident my stance would be different if I had grown up in a world like that. Right now, I have so much privilege that it's easy for me to take the high road and promote the morally upright solution, but if I had suffered through what they have? Not sure I would be as forgiving. And I think that's natural. There's only so much injustice we humans can endure before we start gathering up the pitchforks.

That said, I think it's still important to be aware of what is morally right and wrong. We might not always be able to follow what we know is the right path — that's human, especially when we are oppressed — just don't forget your way back.

So yeah. I hope that's a somewhat satisfying reply xD

And thank you so much for your kind words 💜 I know all that on an intellectual level, but it's not always easy to remember. Especially when I would genuinely love to be able to post more often and it frustrates me that I can't. I'm just as bummed out as you readers, believe me on that.

But, on that subject, I'm actually looking into decreasing my hours at work, at least temporarily, to hopefully make me less exhausted (which is another way I'm incredibly privileged — I can actually ASK for something like that (though I need a doctor's approval first)). So, maybe, I'll get some room to breathe and rest soon. Fingers crossed!

[inked-pigeon-feet]

Day 1 - TDP to Me

I love this show with all my heart. I picked it up after I had watched Voltron I think around sometime Nov 2018 and loved the first season. Then the second and third season came out and loved it even more. I remember drawing the characters on my school worksheets and practically talking my friend's ear off about the show and how she just really needs to watch it. Come to learn she didn't have a Netflix subscription at the time :( but I did rope my siblings into the show :D hi @ive-completely-given-up!! At the time this show came out I was in my fantasy craze. Reading Wings of Fire, Eragon, even some werewolf book I can't even remember the title of. It was all I would read. I hadn't read much, just here and there. I think that's what drew me into The Dragon Prince. The show felt like a storybook that was being read to me with witty and charming characters, interactions with one another that felt natural and even relatable and awesome fight scenes. The world building is amazing! C'mon it's got sick dragons and very unique elves, they've got horns! Same going for the representation. I cherish those first 3 seasons as I really don't know who I'd be without having watched TDP. I started to draw again, this time more people of color and pushing myself out of my comfort zone with my art. My style of art changed with the show's influence. I even started to write for myself, especially during the pandemic. This show got me through that, along with multiple arc 1 re-watches at the time. The scenery and animation also drew me in as I am a sucker for animated shows and movies. I appreciate everything that goes into making anything animated and will always be down to watch a cartoon. Also I love how mature this show is, the lessons within the episodes within the story, the darker each season has become; almost growing along with me. I genuinely wish I could watch this show for the first time again, nothing (at least I don't think) will ever compare to this show and its fantastic writing. I think it has actually changed me and the way I view stories/storytelling. My fantasy standards have gotten a lot pickier.

The fandom is possibly the greatest fandom I've ever been in. I know I mostly just re-blog stuff, leaving silly comments in the tags, and only now have started to make my own posts but this is such a good fandom imo. Of course drama and sock puppet accounts are inevitable but I hardly see it/block the people who start it (I love you block button <3). But the interaction, the fanart, the fanfics, the metas, the bingo cards, the predictions, everything make this fandom just a nice place to be. as well as seeing people just as insane as you :) The Dragon Prince is a show that delves into the complexities of choices. The consequences and action, the selfishness or the selflessness, the thread that tangles lives up, for better or for worse. Characters becoming who they want to be and who they may have despised. The messiness of anger and sadness, the earnestness of love and happiness. It is about love and loss, grief and joy, family and bonds, sisters and brothers. It is about the journeys that we take and the people we affect in our lives and the effects of our words and actions. Its wanting to make the world a better place not for yourself but for the future as well. It is about fighting even when it is tiring, it is hope that refuses to diminish. It is the wanting to live and thrive that make this show spectacular. I love this show in it's entirety with my whole heart. I'll be sad when this show ends, whether it's this season or the next 3, and I can't recommend it enough to friends and family. I love you, The Dragon Prince.

[qwertyfingers]

Ask Game: 1, 5, 16, and 33

1) what are 3 things you’d say shaped you into who you are?

i have a lot of really depressing answers for this question but i don't want to focus on those so. 1) growing up with three siblings, some of whom are also queer. I really appreciate the friendships I have with them and the fact that i've never felt alone in my experiences within my family. 2) doing drama/theatre as a kid massively helped me with my social difficulties and helped me learn how to Interact With Human Beings in a way just being a child did not. 3) having a really debilitating illness that i have Mostly Recovered from has given me an ability to appreciate each and every Moment of my life in a way that did not come naturally to me before. for all that having this condition fucking sucks, there is nothing quite like going from being in agonising pain All Of The Time to only being in moderately bad pain a bit of the time to make you realise there is beauty and love and happiness in the world and give you the motivation to cling to that shit for dear life.

5) what made you start your blog?

i made my very first tumblr account in 2008 to connect more easily with some people i'd met on a different website and i've been an active user ever since. this blog i made specifically because i felt like i was a really different person than i had been before :)

16) if you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

the boring answer is i'd love to not have whatever is wrong with my neurons that means Having A Migraine is my brain's defualt state of being because it means my lifestyle has to involve a constant battle of trying to trick my body into not doing that. a more fun one is i would love to have cat ears. i don't want any other cat features i just like the ears.

33) any hobbies?

I paint, mainly in watercolour but a little bit in gouache, and my most common subject matter is cats. i will reblog this post with some pictures from my sketchbook (they're all on my phone). I also make ladder-style bracelets with waxed cord which i find really soothing and is a good way to keep my hands distracted when i'm listening to a book or watching a video :)

[autisticempathydaemon]

Tokyo Calling by ATARASHII GAKKO! it's just FUN

Enneagram type four.

YES. and my fave is the ABO copyright saga, but I enjoy having these on in the background while I do other things, and I use them to learn about online drama mostly hehehe

To fall asleep, either thinking through scenarios or audiobooks. if the brain won't shut up, then audiobooks!!

I wouldn't change my name, but I'm also not super duper attached to it haha

Favourite redacted audio!! Davey proposal, or the one where angel steals david's hoodie. there are a lot of call backs in both of these, and my favorite line: 'with you, I'm just- David.'

Zero appeal is Ollie!! I've tried. A few times. but No.

Muppet Christmas carol, I know all the words hahaha

Platonically, besties with Elliott! He'd be a great friend?

Go to ramble is whatever media I've been really into lately. I've gotten really into hockey and PWHL lately, and get me tired, I will ramble to you about it hahaha

Favorite playlist atm is an amalgamation of my daylists, but I'd summarise it as 'bisexual yearning pop'??

Guilty pleasure media is SMUTTY MANGA.

Ooh, this is a cute one. Like, I think there are parts of you that could work so well with different parts of different redacted bois. Yet, when I look at all you’ve given me as a whole, I like you with Gavin most.

Type Fours tend to be creative, emotional, and reserved, an introverted sort of person; I think Gavin is uniquely suited to you in that he’s extroverted enough to pull you out of your shell but not so much you two don’t have a grand time by yourselves. Also, “bisexual yearning pop” one hundred percent sounds like Gavin’s vibe, so I think y’all could have a great time sharing playlists.

The main thing I love about y’all is that I think you and Gavin would like a lot of the same things, that he likes all the things you like. Like, can’t you imagine reading a smutty manga and shoving it in Gavin’s face like “babe, you’ll love this one”? Can’t you imagine watching hockey together and Gavin loving the hot people speeding across the ice and checking each other? Can’t you imagine your first Christmas together with him, showing him the Muppets Christmas Carol for the first time?

Song:

Every other boy’s on to the next one/ I hope that you stay, 'cause I think you′re so fun/ Everyone is asking if we're a thing now/ Are we going somewhere?/ Waking up my friends and texting my sister/ I wanna tell the world the things that we whisper/ Everyone is asking if we're a thing now/ Are we going somewhere?

To find a song for y’all, I searched Bisexual Yearning Pop in Spotify, and I quite like the result! This song is really catchy and cute and paints a really fun picture of a flirtationship on the brink of something more and the sweet, fuzzy feelings of having a crush in that situation. This song is new to me, but I’ll be saving it, and I hope you like it too!

Runner-ups:

Guy is a runner-up because I do love the idea of pairing you with an extrovert but not that much of an extrovert, ya know? Lasko is a runner-up because I think he’d love your smutty manga recommendations most of all the boys. You and he and Gavin should have a fun, little naughty book club.

note: thank you so much for waiting; please feel free to send me some manga recs if you’d like to share. I love a good 18+ Josei 💕

Read this post and send me an ask if you’d like a match-up of your own! 💌

[biblioflyer]

Discovery S5E1 first reactions (spoilers)

Every season, Star Trek's ugly duckling starts finding its footing a little better. I'm actually sad now its at its end.

I was prepared to be grumpy. For the first half hour or so, I was a little bit of a sourpuss. All the classic Discovery sins were on display in full force.

The main character syndrome. Burnham is leading from the front. Again. Didn't we have a whole season character arc about how captaining means sometimes you have to delegate?

Okay, okay, don't at me. The reasons for her to Kirk it up in the thick of things were reasonably well thought out.

I'm really torn between appreciating the whole "Iron Man" sequence in space as a smart, logical extrapolation of the technological development of the series and just being somewhat numb and feeling like the whole thing was rule of cool from start to finish.

They better not skimp out on Raynor's backstory and motives, because thus far every call he's made has been even more devoid of compassion as Captain Shaw, but critically none of his hard man making hard choices directives make sense. He's being set up as an Ahab type character.

Now this isn't the first time we've have a Starfleet Ahab. Ben Maxwell was just such a character. Critically though, he was a renegade that our hero characters were called in to hunt down like a mad dog precisely because, understandable motives or not, he was so far outside the bell curve for acceptable Starfleet standards for rules of engagement, compassion etc. that he was on the verge of provoking a war with the Cardassians.

A war that a lot of revisionist fans, mapping Cardassia and its ultimate alliance with the Dominion to Russia and the invasion of Ukraine, have come around to thinking a preventative war was good and cool, rather than risking an apocalypse. I've talked about this a few times, but the fact that the protomatter, temporal, isolytic, trilithium, biological etc. weapons haven't been deployed in quantity in the wars that have been depicted in Trek means everyone got damn lucky. Strange New Worlds has even seen fit to remind us that even with just conventional weapons, its not hard for casualties to run up into the millions given the scale of the civilizations butting heads.

But that's a rant for another time.

So Raynor being within spitting distance, if not wholly inside of the Section 31 anything for the mission mentality, is irksome. I'm probably not doing my due diligence by complaining without watching episode two yet, but still its a bad look. Its a nasty callback to depictions of casual jerkiness and military caricature from Picard's third season and Discovery's first.

Also I don't care about Burnham and Book’s relationship. I just don't. Nor am I particularly interested in Tilly finding love. They’re all fine and interesting characters without needing to inject relationship drama into the mix. This show has really started to feel like it doesn’t need to rely on cheap sources of melodrama. Finding love isn't the only pathway to character development. I don't watch this franchise for NCC-90210 storylines.

And I'm also a raging hypocrite because if anything happens to Saru and T'Rina, I will be even grumpier! Same with Culber and Stamets.

I may have a soft spot for warm, lived in, tender relationships and minimal patience for stories about relationship drama among the stars.

Also, I do appreciate that at least in the first episode, the Burnham - Book "ship" feels less overwrought. The awkwardness between them reads as a more mature, more nuanced incarnation of the relationship. Even when they inevitably patch things up, I really hope its less showy and melodramatic, and more cozy.

Grumpiness aside, I have to compliment the cast, writers, and crew enormously. This show has matured so impressively in the sense that the cast are able to find the characters in a natural and seamless way. The writers are putting better dialogue in their mouths even if I don't always necessarily want to see the specific storylines playing out.

Its a testament to the idea that art is a thing you practice and the human beings involved in producing this stuff need time and space to get it right. By legacy TV standards, Discovery is only just starting the equivalent of its third season. We used to talk about the two season rule for legacy Trek. The idea that it really only got good, not merely watchable if you have a good tolerance for cheese, but actually good in the third season.

The action sequences, mostly, were really good too. Well composed, clear and easy to follow while having a decent amount of drama and uncertainty to them.

The chase sequence really managed to capture the power and physics of having starships operating inside the atmosphere of a planet and what they can do. Although I'm sure the tech fans will froth at a number of obvious inconsistencies in scaling, at least we actually see some interesting consequences of ships interacting with planets.

Additionally it also accidentally portrays one of the world building problems with the version of the Star Wars universe depicted by the Attack of the Clones and Revenge of the Sith Incredible Cross Sections books. Yes, I'm one of those kinds of fans who has argued both sides of that particular controversy. I've always found Dr. Saxton's attempts to quantify just what is going on and then contrive explanations for how its possible fascinating, but ultimately it presents serious world building problems. Like the idea that one scoundrel with one relatively diminutive ship, like the Falcon or Slave I, could utterly wreck a populated area in seconds causing thousands, if not tens of thousands of casualties if they're having a bad day. Such are the elemental forces and energy levels at the disposal of even common riff raff in Dr. Saxton's depiction of Star Wars.

In Discovery, we see what happens when a couple of scoundrels have their back up against a wall, and it comes within a hair's breadth of tragedy.

BIG SPOILERS

The callback to the Progenitors is also really interesting. I'm curious as to what the MacGuffin will ultimately be, because if you scrutinize the various technologies of the week in Trek, most of the mature space faring peoples already seemed to have the capacity to do what the Progenitors could do: seed a planet with life and then guide that life across billions of years of evolution to a desirable endpoint. The main thing that is missing is the ability to ensure, in the style of Expanse's Protomolecule Builders, that your project can babysit itself without direct intervention for all that time.

Also kudos to Discovery for its cutesy storytelling device of grabbing a background character and turning them into someone of great significance. This is something that can be overdone, see also: Star Wars, especially the Legends continuity; but I have a soft spot for lore nerds.

Also speaking of Lore, I'm a little curious as to whether this is the last we'll hear of Fred. Synth "death" is kind of an ambiguous thing. They were able to harvest usable data from him, but perhaps there's a meaningful difference between the systems responsible for consciousness and memory storage? Perhaps the ocular memory is a sort of buffer in which information is triaged, analyzed, and then either committed to long term memory or deleted.

[stardustmade009]

12/29/23 Hasan Piker said to please defend him more, finally I have been given the permission I need to sephiroth post. Late Christmas Early New Year Miracle!!!! Drama frog rejoice

(cross posting from reddit)

Hi long time lurker. And look, this is a page about HASAN PIKER. This is the place for what I'm about to do, I'm a girl with a bunch of interests and sometimes those interests intersect in ways I just sit on for years cause quite honestly I'm using "girl" v loosely and I'm 31 woman and I know what "cringe" is because I wrote the book, so I just kinda shit post in comments on twitter to release the stress of being a fan of Hasan, and I don't have a twitter anymore, so I thought I was just going to have to die on this.

But finally, on this day I was watching a clip from the 12-29-23 at 4 in the morning cause I got off work early (https://youtu.be/kMwQQmVMcAw?si=XhjWf6R_O5UgH9MX&t=294) and I got all I need to let out about 4 years of built up Hasan drama. So mods, Daddy said I could so please please please don't delete this. This is perfect fodder on who to block personally and as I will elaborate, I done my time in this community, just let me have my soap box.

Who am I and what give me this authority? (a disclaimer) As stated above I'm up at 4 am, and this is "off early", I work nightshift factory job in middle america who's worked there for 10 years with a long side story I will not bore you with. I found Hasan when he did the breakdown on fb and just liked the way he broke down the news. Is he a perfect person? No. There are many things I wish he didn't do. (Hoobastank) But on the whole, solid person who's world view is refreshing to listen to and I don't lose sleep in supporting my like in him because he tries to be ethical with his spending and its like $5, come on, I can spend $5 to enjoy myself ad free at that top of the hour if I want. I work 12 hour shifts.

But as I said, I work 12 hours, and where Hasan sometimes makes 10 hours of content, I also have other interests and sometimes I'm doing that, sometimes I'm a drama girlie (and it's super sexist if you judge me), sometimes I'm a goblin. And boy howdy how I wish the drama girlies would rally around Hasan because he's chill with QT and Rae, cause then I wouldn't have to do this myself. But alas, we must all sometimes be the change we want to see in the world, and the drama girlies don't know about this filth, so here I am. Youtube channel-less and angry. So I'm gonna vent about the latest drama here for a moment cause I've been sitting on this need since Hasan's biggest mistake, befriend the worlds more admired online deadbead father since Onision, Steven Kenneth Bonnell II (wiki).

The Meat and Potatoes (If you don't want my auto-bio but wanna be a drama goblin with me) I find it ABSOLUTELY INSANE that ANYONE in the dgg orbit thinks they get to get their fucking panties in a twist over "edgy jokes" like mocking Claira "Harassed a woman over a tweet about a cookbook for two years" Sorrenti doing cocaine with a Road Runner gif when she went on a very public bender and harassed every fucking person she could and hides behind being a fucking addict instead of showing even a drop of remorse for her action past the "I want to keep my job and keep calling myself the one true leftist so I'm sorry uwu" video/clip from a stream she didn't even have the time to do on its own, I don't remember but I watched it and she was full of shit cause I don't believe the cocaine bender was 2 years, aka the amount of time she harassed Roslyn Talusan, unless those "tasty noodles" has the flour subbed out with cocaine.

"Oh but but but Hasan said the r slur that one time" harks the orbitor. oh, wow. The community where if I even could edit there is no program around that could make a montauge of the amoung of time even one of your favs has said it, and Hasan has, say it with me, changed and tries not to be a fucking asshole, something you orbitor fucks could never understand.And the most insane of it all is the worse thing you could list of things Hasan REALLY did and has shown zero remorse for, beside the cracker thing, they cheered gleefully because they liked his more dirtbag shit. Hasan having the most unhinged reaction to being asked to not do a fundraiser with Hogwarts Legacy for the trans community, I've never seen them gargle balls harder. WHY?? Cause they wanted to bully Jessie Gender, a truly respectable person.

That was the only real thing. (a bit tongue in cheek I'm too high and this is much longer than I planned on he has done some other things. but they were mouth to sack there too)

"Oh but he was wrong about RUSSIA!!!!!" Do you fire the weather person for being wrong? Shut up.

So to all of them, either get a real job other than being the most annoying online cult or hurry up and drink the coolaid or whatever your own cults endgame is. I've blocked you and you're still leaking through. Idk. Idc. Just leave Hasan Piker Alone.

[skepwith]

M/M historical romance book rec

Rating: E Category: M/M Genre: Romance. Also adventure, crime, mystery Setting: Romney Marsh, England, 1810 Characters:

Sir Gareth Inglis is a humble law clerk, until he inherits a house and title from the father who abandoned him as a child. The house is in Romney Marsh, on the southeast coast of England, and because it's 1810 and England is at war with France, the area is rife with smugglers sneaking goods back and forth across the Channel.

Joss Doomsday is the leader (with his formidable mother) of the Doomsday clan of smugglers. Widely known as charming and capable, he's used to getting what he wants.

It just so happens that before Gareth came to Romney Marsh, he and Joss had an anonymous week-long fling in London that ended badly, with neither expecting to see the other again. When they come face to face again, it's not under the best of circumstances . . .

This book has everything: enemies to lovers, sweet romance, hot sex, likable outlaws, family drama, skulduggery, and bad relatives getting their comeuppance.

KJ Charles writes great characters—not just the mains but the secondary characters too. The entire Doomsday clan are fabulous. When Gareth and Joss fall out, as they must (because romance), it makes perfect sense given who they are. And when they reconcile it's because they've thought about their issues and talked it through (you know, like real people do). It makes the romance all the more compelling.

I've never been to Romney Marsh but I feel like I have because of Charles's descriptions. She's obviously done tons of research but she never shoehorns it in, just subtly builds an atmospheric backdrop for the story. Gareth becomes an amateur naturalist early on, walking through the Marsh to look at flora and fauna, particularly insects; and of course Joss knows the Marsh like the back of his hand. You'd never believe how romantic beetle-watching can be.

About a third of the way through the book we learn that Joss is mixed race (though it's hinted at earlier). It turns out his grandfather, Asa Doomsday, was born into slavery in Georgia and later immigrated to England. This is mentioned but not dwelt on, and Asa is presented as a respected patriarch. Racism is acknowledged to exist in this world, but the racists always end up getting punished. Charles treats homophobia much the same way: it's a real threat, but it never triumphs.

Some trigger warnings: There's a good amount of violence in this story, though it's not egregious—but we are talking about outlaws here. A couple of people get murdered (off screen), but you really won't mind in their cases. There's a sexual assault (chest groping) that's not shown but is described by the victim, who receives immediate support from her family. There's a young teenager who's verbally and physically abused by his father (a main baddie) off-screen, and one major act of violence that's immediately followed by the kid's rescue and the father's punishment. Overall, I'd say Charles is sensitive to her readers' feelings and doesn't overplay trauma or write anything for shock value. Her baddies are bad, but they always come to a satisfyingly sticky end. Plus, I find that her violence is overshadowed by the love and kindness of the characters and their families, both birth and chosen.

Highly recommended!

[tinker-tanner]

Tag Nine People You'd Like to Know Better

Favourite colour: intense, vivid green. I don't know how to describe it properly, but if you imagine the glow of radioactive waste in a cartoon, that's about it. Purple, orange, red, and black also suit me well.

Favourite flavour(s): My palate is unfortunately rather unsophisticated thanks to having almost zero sense of smell until age 27 (thank you estrogen for my life), so my sense of taste hasn't historically had a lot of room for variation. That said, there is nothing in this world quite like top-notch cheesy garlic bread.

Favourite music: indie rock writ broadly. This ranges from folky stuff like The Mountain Goats to metal-adjacent prog like Polyphia to the vast soundscapes of Sigur Rós. Also enjoy quite a bit of rap, electronic music, and folk.

Favourite movie: Attack the Block, always and forever. It's the perfect mix of horror, teenage shenanigans, comedy, and genuine emotion. This is also John Boyega's first starring role. I genuinely cannot believe he pulled off this kind of leading man energy as a teenager: watching this movie in 2012 lets me sincerely say I was into him before it was cool.

Favourite book: Two-way tie for first. Book of the New Sun by Gene Wolfe might be the smartest book I've ever read. Not that it makes the reader feel smart - I have rarely felt dumber than when I'm trying to understand what Severian is leaving out of a story - but that there's so much going on and every reread enhances how much you can extract from it. The Sisters of Dorley by Alyson Greaves helped give me the courage to finally acknowledge I was a woman and is also just a stupendous psychological drama filled with women who have so, so many things wrong with them. Honorary mention to The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien, which is still up there but no longer quite in the top spot.

Favourite series: Revolutionary Girl Utena. I did not know TV could ever be this good. I do not expect any TV show to astound me this much again. Watching Utena, I could feel my brain physically reshape itself. The show is unexpectedly blunt about rape and child abuse considering it's shojo, so watch out for that, but if you can handle it, watch this show.

Last song: "Sun Bleached Flies" by Ethel Cain. The perfect song for a certain mood when you need to reckon with not being Christian anymore. The first time I heard her sing "God loves you, but not enough to save you" was like a revelation.

Last series: Afraid I don't watch enough TV to remember this.

Last movie: The Boy and the Heron. Miyazaki near the peak of his powers, which I never expected to see again. The big screen added a lot to this one. Even by the usual high standards Ghibli sets, it's incredibly gorgeous.

Currently reading: Beowulf (as translated by Maria Dahvana Headley). I'm a sucker for Old English literature. Took two courses on Old English in undergrad and they were some of my favourites of the degree until the person who taught me turned out to be profoundly racist. Headley's take is bizarre and therefore compelling to me: I'm always interested in seeing how weird someone can get with the source material.

Currently watching: Nothing. I weeded and organised my bookshelves for the first time in the 2020s and am taking advantage of this to read my TBR list at a ferocious pace.

Currently working on: Nothing in particular. I'm not all that creatively inclined and what little writing projects I did have were pushed aside by all the real-life nonsense I'm juggling. Tarot reading has been a joy to learn, though; attempting to interpret real-world events through knotty tangles of symbolism is exactly the sort of thing my brain likes. Shoutout to The Tarot Restless by Winslow Dumaine, which dared to ask "What if I made up my own Dark Souls cosmology and put it in a deck of cards?"

Tagged by @tobermoriansass, which I find terribly considerate given how hard it is to drag him away from his elves these days. Tagging @sophibeans @stackslip @licoricefern @deadciv @catgirltoes @loki-zen and whoever else would like to join in!