#in the span of a page is heartbreaking

[memento-morri-writes]

so, it's not work on my WIPs, but I wrote my d&d character's (Rook's) backstory the way I imagine him telling it to the party. And wow, somehow it hurts 20x times more this way. Can't wait to roleplay this scene next week!!

Have an excerpt of my favorite part.

TW for drugging/selling a person + violence in the screenshot below.

ouch

transcript under the cut. TW for drugging and selling of a person, plus violence.

[he pauses, taking a deep breath]

“A few months later, we were all ashore for a couple nights. In Bon Largo, actually. Some of the crew invited me to a tavern for a drink. They bought me a few rounds. Told me to consider it something of a late birthday gift.” [he shakes his head] “Next thing I remember is waking up on a cot in a tiny storage room with a pounding headache and chains around my wrists.” [he swallows hard] “I could tell I was at sea from the rocking, but I sure as hell wasn’t on the Tide Breaker. I banged on the door, yelling my head off, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. All I got for my trouble was a knock upside the head.

“A while later, they hauled me up on deck. We were in the middle of the ocean, miles from anywhere I knew. A woman came over, dressed in the finest captain’s attire I’d ever seen. Introduced herself as Captain Kora Wolf, and started talking. Gloating at me, really. Told me I was on the Sea Snake. That I belonged to her now.” [he scowls, looking up at the rest of the party.] “Those bastards sold me. Slipped something in my drink, tied me up like an animal and sold me.”

[he slumps back, seemingly defeated. His voice is quieter as he continues.]

“I was on that ship for a little over two years. Never set so much as a foot on land the whole time. Spent a fair bit of it in that storage room, too.” [he sighs] “I plotted and planned for months before I was able to escape. Had a few false starts, and got a handful of new scars for my efforts.

“Finally I saw my chance. Most of the crew, including the Captain, [he spits that word like it’s a curse] was on shore. I got out of my cell and made my way up on the deck. Had to knock out a handful of crew to even make it that far.“I knew she had my rapier, since she’d shoved it in my face a few times, and I refused to leave without it. Picked the lock on her cabin door and slipped inside. Thank the gods she hadn’t taken it with her.” [he’s clutching the hilt of the rapier tightly in his lap]

[wiltkingart]

What queer books do you recommend?

oh honey i have a whole rec page here if you're up for anything, but i mostly read adult m/m fiction. lots of weird and old stuff with dark tones more often than not. if you want some specific titles as a flavor list, here's a few favorites! i'll link their storygraph pages so you can read their synopses too:

Fantasy: The Rifter by Ginn Hale (dark fantasy featuring a romance that spans years and time and space in decaying world with a destroyer god, and bones. so many bones. has one of the most interesting and well written story structures i've encountered. very moody and dark, hits just right).

Scifi: Body after Body by Briar Ripley Page (erotic adult scifi novella with transmasc and transfem MCs. dreamlike and grotesque, delicate and stomach churning, it's about a group of mind-wiped laborers tending genetically engineered mutant bodies.)

Historical: The Still by David Feintuch (my book series of all tiiiiiiime. it's fantasy too but mostly medieval military fiction. don't even talk to me about Rodrigo if you're not ready to be hit with a twelve page verbal essay i'm not joking, that is a threat. not a typical romance, expect heartbreak and plenty of it and to never recover.)

Horror: Hexslinger series by Gemma Files (planning a reread of this one soon to see if it still holds up but this series has stuck with me like a fly to molasses. it's a fucked up time full of desperation, Mayan gods and godessess, faggotry, blasphemy, and witchery) go with the Bound in Flesh anthology instead if you want good trans body horror, or Down by Ally Blue for deepsea suspense horror.

Contemporary: All for the Game by Nora Sakavic (you probably know about this classic but for me it still tops most everything else i've read. it's got sports, mafia drama, and trauma). for something a little different (but still traumatic) try Mo Du / Silent Reading by Priest (dark mystery set in China that follows several disturbing cases and the psychology behind them + romance between a detective and a rich pretty boy)

but yeah i talk about books a lot on my personal/main blog @wiltking (in lieu of updating my actual rec pages these days, it seems) if you ever want more real time recs! i'm a book guy. i like books a normal amount :)

[indestinatus]

2024 IN WRITING

tagging: @television-overload @benditlikepress @hopeless-nostalgiac @loudlooks @slouchingprovocatively @mrsmungus @mondlersswiftie @zeevah-ninja @pokingacave @natalias @loismagic @atlolevad4ev @hundan and addi (who doesn't have a tumblr) <3

1. List of works published this year: 16 (wow?)

She -> the fic I wrote knowing Ziva was coming back and no one knew it yet omg it was incredible

I'll crawl home to her -> finally got the courage to write a reunion of sorts. Can't wait till they reunite again on screen in Paris

carve your name into my bedpost -> post-season 17 Tony asks Ziva out on a date

you're too sweet for me -> the beginning of my secret summer obsession

sorry for not winning you an arcade ring -> Tony asks Ziva to marry him

we’ve already done it in my head -> second secret summer fic of the year, basically a sex dream from Ziva haha

no other shade of blue -> Tiva angst in the spin-off!!!

and the birds will sing our song in halcyon -> sugary sweet fic of the year, eternal bliss for those two beloved characters

rudely barging in on a white veil occasion -> Tony and Ziva burst into a wedding and the rest is history (in the spin-off omg)

when you were mine in the dark -> read this, please. It is my best work ever. Follows what happened in Paris on 7x13

Miss Congeniality -> I will continue this when I finish writing the ones I plan to post before the spin-off airs (stay tuned)

Coming Soon -> I was so excited to write a trailer and then the trailer got leaked haha

maybe we got lost in translation -> the beginning of me writing in clues, the intrigue and mystery never ends

page fifty-seven -> sex

we should just kiss (like real people do) -> Tony kisses Ziva in a Christmas party under the mistletoe

I hope you see me in your dreams -> another heartbreaking tale of Tony seeing Ziva's ghost

2. Work you are most proud of (and why):

when you were mine in the dark -> this is my favorite work of mine. I wrote it in a span of months, thinking about every bit of dialogue, action, emotion, and so on. So much research went into the source material and compiling different ideas of canonical events. God, I had so much fun. It's rare for me to be proud of something. I'm tremendously proud of this one.

3. Work you are least proud of (and why):

Coming Soon -> will probably delete it someday haha I was just too excited and published this one in a daze

4. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

from my favorite, when you were mine in the dark:

“Ha-ha, David. It isn’t me who is so uncultured she doesn’t know Ratatouille.” “I know ratatouille.” She passes past him to climb the stairs to their hotel lobby. Sending him a side-eyed glance, Ziva looks over her shoulder, saying, “The dish, yes? It is delicious. Tomatoes, zucchini, and peppers—I make a tremendous one.” It’s true. “But what does it have to do with a cooking rat?” “A rat chef. Not a cooking rat.” “So, a chef that is a rat?” “More of a rat that is a chef. Y’know what? Don’t sweat on it.”  “You already did for both of us, yes?”  “Don’t blame me for needing a shower. It was an eight-hour flight.”  “Oh, believe me,” she says, holding her breath. “I know.”

5. Share or describe a favorite review you received:

again (I say this with such a rare pride) from my favorite when you were mine in the dark:

"WOW. Your ability to draw on the depth of emotion and intimacy between these characters and weave it into something so beautiful and comprehensive could be studied by academics. This was the perfect story to read on a beautiful autumn day, like a warm hug of words."

Thank you so much, @vexthejester, for such a kind review. Whenever I need the strength to dive into writing again, I reread your words. They have affected me more than anything. Thank you.

6. A time when writing was really, really hard:

November 2024 (aka the hardest month of medical residency; I almost didn't sleep, let alone write. But hooray to battling through it, I got out of it alive!!!)

7. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you:

Writing about Somalia in (again LOL my favorite) when you were mine in the dark. That nightmare scene took a lot of me to write and it was so tricky to write about trauma and not make it traumatic.

8. How did you grow as a writer this year:

I think I matured enough to write about more serious topics in the Tiva timeline (Somalia, the secret summer, Tony alone during season 13, Tali's birth) with the degree of seriousness I wanted to.

The spin-off been revealed also pushed me to write about stuff I had always been afraid (sofia's take on 11x02 is coming!!! don't worry) in a way I liked. I had so much fun.

9. How do you hope to grow next year:

Next year will be a year filled with studies from me again (horrible) but I'll continue to dive into hard topics such as Tali's birth, Cairo and 11x02. Can't wait to write about them before canon changes haha.

Also... The spin-off? Like??? Until proven otherwise, we are all collectively dreaming. It makes me want to cry.

10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

Gotta give this one completely to @television-overload. Haley is such a sweet soul and a loyal friend. We embarked on this journey of a Tiva Fanfiction Writing project together (which you can check on @tiva-challenges !!!) in a way I've always dreamed of. Thank you, friend. Here's to many more projects in the Tiva universe.

11. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

Yes. You don't need to know more, but all the secret summer of sex fics are about me personally. Yes. All of them. Yes, I know what you're thinking. Yes. Yes, all of them.

12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

Treat your audience like they're smart.

It changed the way I wrote things completely. I show more than tell now and I found out that is the key to mysterious writing (which I love), people are going to make the connections. Storytelling is so fun!!!

13. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

YES. I'm currently writing about Tali's birth for a big personal goal of mine and I also want to write about Cairo before canon changes.

Which, well... Expect me to write about every episode of the spin-off. I can't believe I can say this. What a dream. What a beautiful dream.

14. If you could recommend only one work from yourself published this year:

when you were mine in the dark

Everyone, make way—this is my favorite work, ever. Trust me. Please. Please, read this one. It summarizes everything I think about Tony & Ziva.

15. Year word count: 101,920

I can't believe I've written this much this year. And without any big uncompleted works. I had only written this much on the pandemic.

Thank you so much for all the support! I love writing. I'll continue to write about Tony & Ziva until all of you get tired of me. Yay!

[dinodontwait]

Epistles of Love(Preview/Teaser)

Summary: In a charming and new suburb, y/n stumbles upon cryptic letters from Woozi, unveiling a tale of love and heartbreak. As the past unfolds through Woozi's words, will y/n risk her heart to uncover the secrets hidden within each carefully penned letter?

Genre: Romance, Mystery, Suspense, and Contemporary Fiction.

Trope: Slow-Burn, Strangers-to-lovers?

Main Characters: afab!y/n , Woozi, Amour( real names will be revealed later)

Supporting Characters: Jeonghan, Mingyu, Seokmin, Myungho, Suengkwan and Soonyoung(This list might change as the story progresses)

Word Count: 1.3k

Release Date: 28th February

A/N:

Thank you all for your incredible enthusiasm and support! Seeing the strong response to the poll, I couldn't wait to share a sneak peek of what's in store for this story. Brace yourselves for a thrilling ride as I embark on this writing journey. Currently, I've crafted the first part, and I've sprinkled some teasers within this preview.

I'm envisioning this fic to unfold as a mini-series, spanning about 2-3 parts. However, keep in mind that I've only completed part 1, and there might be room for expansion as fresh ideas come my way. My target word count for the entire fic is around 30k, but who knows – that could evolve with the narrative.

As I dive into the world of writing, I'm aware that there might be a few bumps along the way. If you spot any mistakes or have suggestions, please feel free to let me know. I'm still learning and appreciate your input!

Thank you for joining me on this writing adventure. Your encouragement means the world to me! 🌟❤️

Holding the old-fashioned envelope in her hands, y/n hesitated. The letter inside seemed personal, like a peek into someone's private thoughts. She pondered whether to read it or not, feeling a mix of curiosity and respect for the past occupant's privacy.

The vintage style of the envelope, with its intentional old-timey vibe, hinted at a story waiting to be told. The decision to open it felt like standing on the edge of someone else's feelings and memories. The inked words on the letter, still folded, held the potential to reveal a part of someone's life not meant for casual eyes.

The mystery and curiosity won over her reservations. With a quiet determination, y/n decided to unfold the letter, ready to explore the hidden stories and emotions that the pages might unfold. The choice to step into this unknown space felt like opening a door to someone else's past, and she took that step with a mix of trepidation and anticipation.

Dear Amour,

In the silent embrace of this letter, the ink traces the echoes of a day that etched itself into the fabric of my existence.

The day unfolded like a poem, a delicate dance of moments that wove themselves into the very essence of my being. It was as if each passing second became a verse in the story of a land parched for the sweet touch of rain. The air, thick with anticipation, carried me toward a nearby cafe—an enclave of serenity that stood as a refuge from the monotony of the ordinary, a sanctuary where possibilities unfurled like petals in the gentle breeze.

Since the tapestry of my memories began, I've been the silent observer, finding solace in the quiet corners of my home. The contours of my existence were shaped by the solitude I sought, a realm where the whispers of my thoughts resonated in the stillness. Yet, on that fateful day, a gentle pull, like the invisible hands of fate, tugged at the strings of my solitude. It was an urging, a call to step into the unexplored territory of the cafe—a space that held the promise of encounters yet to unfold.

The very decision to step into that cafe marked a departure from the familiar script of my life. The door swung open, not merely to a physical space, but to the uncharted landscapes of possibility. With each step, I traversed the threshold of routine, embracing the unknown with a heart open to the serendipitous wonders that awaited within the walls of that sanctuary.

The aroma of freshly ground coffee beans greeted me, weaving a sensory tapestry that spoke of warmth and familiarity. It was then that I saw her—the girl who, unbeknownst to her, would redefine the contours of my existence. She stood there, a living canvas painted by the hands of fate, the light wind playing a delicate symphony with the strands of her hair.

Her presence seemed like a stroke of destiny, a chapter written in the celestial script of our intertwined stories. As our eyes met, time suspended itself, and the ordinary boundaries of reality blurred. It was a moment that transcended the mundane, as if the universe conspired to orchestrate a connection, an unspoken agreement unfolding in the silent language of glances and smiles.

Her eyes, pools of warmth and mystery, held secrets and stories yet to be told. They mirrored the reflection of a kindred spirit, resonating with a depth that transcended the superficial. It was in that gaze that I felt the tendrils of an invisible thread weaving itself between our souls, binding us in a silent understanding that surpassed the limitations of spoken words.

In the symphony of that moment, the cafe transformed into a sacred space, a stage where our destinies briefly intersected. The ordinary chatter of patrons faded into background noise, leaving only the echo of our shared gaze. And in that silent exchange, a connection was forged, setting in motion a series of events that would shape the course of our intertwined narratives.

The girl I saw was you, and you had me the moment you looked at me. Your gaze became the catalyst for a myriad of emotions, unraveling a story written in the language of fate and woven into the very fabric of our shared existence.

Each recollection of that encounter is like a cherished melody, a timeless tune that plays on a loop in the quiet chambers of my thoughts. The symphony of that moment, the laughter echoing in the cafe, the delicate clink of coffee cups, all compose a melodic ode to the serendipity that unfolded that day. It's a melody that resonates through the corridors of my mind, an everlasting refrain of a connection that defies the constraints of time.

In these moments of reflection, the word "Amour" echoes through my mind, a gentle whisper that transcends the ordinary definitions of fate. It's more than a term; it's a name, a label that carries the weight of our shared connection. The mere utterance of it conjures images of you—the girl who became the focal point of a destiny written in invisible ink.

So, let this letter be a testament to the serendipity that brought us together—the day the drought of my soul quenches its thirst with the rain of your presence. Every word etched on this paper is a silent acknowledgment of the profound impact you've had on the rhythm of my life.

In the quiet solitude of my room, as I pen down these words, I find myself grappling with the uncertainty that shrouds our future. This letter, crafted with the ink of genuine emotions, might never reach your hands. I am left to wonder if our paths will ever cross again, if the serendipity that united us will weave its magic once more.

Yet, even in the face of this uncertainty, I write with a glimmer of hope—a hope that transcends the boundaries of time and distance. This letter becomes a vessel, carrying not only my sentiments but also the silent yearning to see you again. And even if this letter remains unsent, floating in the sea of unsent letters, it stands as a testament to the sincerity of my emotions and the silent hope that someday, our stories will intersect again.

Yours in reminiscence,

Woozi

The words lingered in the air as y/n absorbed the emotions woven into each sentence. The letter had painted a picture of a connection that transcended time and space. The vintage charm of the envelope seemed to have carried not just a message from the past but a piece of a love story waiting to be unfolded.

As she set the letter aside, the room felt different, as if the walls whispered secrets that begged to be heard. It felt like the quiet town held more stories than she had initially imagined, and within its embrace, she found herself entangled in the enigmatic tale of Woozi and Amour. She hoped to find more, but the letter just ends, and she keeps thinking about it. The night enveloped the town in its quiet embrace, and y/n found herself entangled in the web of possibilities. The journey into the unknown had just begun, and the quiet town, with its cobblestone streets and whispered rumors, held the key to a myriad of untold narratives.

With a heart brimming with curiosity, she hoped to uncover the layers of mystery that clung to the very fabric of her surroundings. But for now, the letter remained a silent witness to the unexplored depths of the town's history. Its words, though poignant and evocative, were a mere prologue to the stories that awaited her. As she drifted into contemplation, the vintage envelope and its contents became a beacon, guiding her into a world where love and suspense danced in tandem, inviting her to be a part of a narrative that defied the boundaries of time.

[mysteriouslybluepirate]

Queer Book Recommendations!!

I haven't really read a book book in years. Due to money problems and a lack of free time, audiobooks and AO3 were a MUCH cheaper option for me. But now that I'm struggling to fully read text posts on Tumblr I realize my attention span is shot. Reading novels is helping me tune out and focus in again. So I'm turning to queer novels written by my 'queer elders'.

For anyone who is struggling to get back into long form content after reading Fic for years, I highly recommend the books of TJ KLUNE (summaries of what I've read under the break).

If you are a fan of the 'escaping a shitty life and being welcomed into a found family' fanworks, this is the writer for you! All his stories center on home and feeling welcomed and loved. Of middle age and finding out who you are. Of finding love for others and yourself. He makes you hunger for that type of romantic and platonic love where people just know the real you. His stories also float by so quickly, there are so many things he does that I want to emulate his writing into my work.

Someone on Tumblr described the romances as: “what if a real life disney prince fell in love with the human equivalent of a wet paper bag?” and I agree 100%. All his protagonists are just like that, and I love them all.

(Also, this man definitely had an office job he hated, and writes office work culture as a death sentence in every one of his novels and I love it).

If you have any queer novels you love, don't be afraid to leave me a recommendation! (Especially WLW that isn't 'One Last Stop')

HAVE READ: The House in the Cerulean Sea : [An amazing love fantastical found family story (with a hint of romance)! I listened to the audiobook on Audible and absolutely loved it! I can't wait for the sequel coming out next year.]

Linus Baker is a lonely case worker for a governmental organization which manages orphaned kids who are magical beings.

One day, he's given a secret assignment to assess a special orphanage on the island of Marsyas, run by a man named Arthur Parnassus, who has secrets of his own. Among the six unique children living there, one of them is Lucy, short for Lucifer, who just happens to be the Antichrist.

Despite his initial reservations, as Linus's days pass in Marsyas, in this idyllic setting among a coterie of magical children, Linus finds himself coming across a little romance, an unlikely family and possibly even a home.

Currently Reading: Under the Whispering Door. [I know this is going to be heartbreaking, but I'm loving it, only on page 50/373. Will likely post something vague about how it made me cry lol]

When a reaper comes to collect Wallace Price from his own funeral, Wallace suspects he really might be dead.

Instead of leading him directly to the afterlife, the reaper takes him to a small village. On the outskirts, off the path through the woods, tucked between mountains, is a particular tea shop, run by a man named Hugo. Hugo is the tea shop's owner to locals and the ferryman to souls who need to cross over.

But Wallace isn't ready to abandon the life he barely lived. With Hugo's help, he finally starts to learn about all the things he missed in life.

When the Manager, a curious and powerful being, arrives at the tea shop and gives Wallace one week to cross over, Wallace sets about living a lifetime in seven days.

Planning on reading: In The Lives of Puppets(The book is on my shelf).

In a strange little home built into the branches of a grove of trees, live three robots—fatherly inventor android Giovanni Lawson, a pleasantly sadistic nurse machine, and a small vacuum desperate for love and attention. Victor Lawson, a human, lives there too. They’re a family, hidden and safe.

The day Vic salvages and repairs an unfamiliar android labelled “HAP,” he learns of a shared dark past between Hap and Gio–a past spent hunting humans.

When Hap unwittingly alerts robots from Gio’s former life to their whereabouts, the family is no longer hidden and safe. Gio is captured and taken back to his old laboratory in the City of Electric Dreams. So together, the rest of Vic’s assembled family must journey across an unforgiving and otherworldly country to rescue Gio from decommission, or worse, reprogramming.

Along the way to save Gio, amid conflicted feelings of betrayal and affection for Hap, Vic must decide for himself: Can he accept love with strings attached?

[munsonsreputation]

All Of The Girls You've Loved Before

steve harrington x fem!reader (modern day au!!! they dance to taylor at the end!!!!)

word count: [3.1K] I did my best to proof read

warnings: warnings: no use of y/n, established relationship, cursing, talks about previous relationships, basically a bunch of fucking sappy fluff!!!

summary: steve knows he was never the best boyfriend, but things start to change when you and him finally get together thanks to fate. but what happens when steve's past insecurities come out? You do what you do best and let him know that his past made him the the person you've fallen for.

Steve Harrington was a dream come true.

Your dream come true to be exact.

Everyone in Hawkins knew Steven Harrington and all the girls fawned over him, and all the boys despised him. A sort of blessing and curse that was cast upon him ever since he knew what romantic feelings were, even if it was not what it seemed.

He wasn’t going to play dumb and act as if his rap sheet was holy, because it was far from that. His sheet of paper was filled with girls’ names, spanning from years of dating and meaningless flings. Despite the crowded paper, the feeling of it was empty. Those relationships and flings were shallow and superficial, based on nothing more than physical attraction and a desire for popularity.

But his other halves weren’t solely to blame.

Steve knew he wasn’t the best partner out there. There had been many arguments, broken promises, and hurtful words exchanged in his past relationships. He knew that he had made mistakes in the past, but he had never intended to hurt anyone. He had just been young and foolish, trying to figure out who he was and what he wanted in life.

He had always tried to be a good partner, but it seemed like no matter what he did, he always fell short. He couldn’t read their emotions. Didn’t say the right things. Was too pushy or sometimes not pushy enough. Spoke too little about his emotions or not enough. It was a losing battle with his past relationships.

In all honestly, for a long time, Steve Harrington thought he was incapable of ever finding someone to truly settle down with. It was hard to imagine that anyone could see past his past mistakes and flaws and accept him for who he was.

All that Steve had ever known was late night arguments over the phone and pity apologies in person so that he and his partners wouldn’t have to go to bed angry with one another—yet he awoke next to them, still feeling so alone.

Maybe he was just incapable of being a good boyfriend and maybe he was never really worthy of love.

Not until you swept right in.

“Stevie!” you blurted, poking his chin from where your head was resting in his lap.

He braved through his haze of thoughts as your voice echoed in his ears. The movie playing on the TV in front of you two had been long forgotten as he slipped into his pondering and now you who had noticed his glazed over eyes not reacting to anything on the screen.

You poked again, fingers probing into his slight stubble, before he glanced down at you and smiled widely. His big hands, coming down to brush the stray hairs away from your face and forehead, tucking them behind your ears as he stared at you fondly.

You stared right back into his eyes, forgetting why you had caught his attention the moment you both slipped into what was a cloudy lavender-like-haze that you wanted to forever stay in without a care for the outside world.

Somewhere along the lines, your name had found its way onto a fresh set of Steve’s pages in his life. One where your name was the only one written on the page with a big heart around it.

How he was able to get so lucky? He would never know. Weirdly enough, you and Steve weren’t strangers at all. You two were fully aware of each other’s existence but never did he ever think he’d be able to snag a girl like you.

The girl who didn’t care about sneaking into town with the “heartbreak prince” on your arm.

Someone who could fill his life with so much complexity yet simplicity all at once.

The one he would enjoy killing time with doing whatever it was, just if he got to make sure he could hold your hand at any given moment

You’d never forget signing all the girls’ yearbooks when the semester was finally over. An assortment of little notes and doodles littering the back pages of the book. And you’d never fail to see his name written in blue ink in all of them. Everyone treating him like Hawkins’ very own heart-throb, yearning for his little signature just so they could draw teeny tiny red hearts around it and brag to their sisters, mothers, and any other person who was dying to get a slice of Steve Harrington.

You and Steve had spent four years at the same high school together.

Sharing the same hallways.

Sharing mutual acquaintances.

Sharing the same teachers.

The same stage at graduation.

The same small town.

For the longest time, you both were like parallel lines, moving with time and living separate lives, just merely aware of each other’s existence was all. But somehow, a few weeks after graduation, you two ended sharing one more thing with each other before the fuse lit.

A room full of half-drunk graduates drinking beer out of plastic cups and screw top rosé.

For whatever reason you both decided to want to drink that cheapass wine, it set off a chain reaction once your hands brushed against each others and it was like the stars finally aligning and fate took its course.

A conversation you two shared, laughing about how awful it must have tasted so you could have it, but no, you wanted him to have it. Which then led to him grabbing the entire bottle and two plastic cups, asking you to follow him up on the roof where you two sat and drank what now seemed like the priceless wine that started it all.

He was fucking lucky, and he was fully aware of that.

You knew about the girls he’d been seen with before, hearing the rumors whispered in the hallways as he and whoever the hell he was dating at the time passed by and the jealous ones saying she was the lucky one.

It was a cycle.

The girls’ he was seeing being the lucky one’s ones until they weren’t anymore.

Until they’d be in the bathroom surrounded by their girlfriends and consoled after Steve didn’t say “I love you” back.

Or until they realized that Steve wasn’t just going to magically drop the kids he babysat for years for a girl he’d only been talking to for weeks.

And especially until they realized that Steve Harrington wasn’t only looks, but a guy who needed to feel loved—truly loved.

“Is this a staring contest or are we still gawking at each other like lovey dovey idiots?”

Your voice broke the barrier of thoughts again as you giggled. Your eyes squinting closed with each laugh you let out as your chest bubbling—a sight Steve would never get tired of admiring.

“You’re a fucking dream, you know that?” Steve smirked, taking your cheeks in his hands and crouching down to give you a kiss.

You hummed against his partly chapped lips, opening your eyes when he pulled away and retreated to back back against the plush cushions of the couch. Yet his fingers twirled at the ends of your hair, making spirals and letting them fall loosely.

“What kind of dream? Like a nightmare or like a wet one?” Your eyebrows wiggled flirtatiously as he cackled, shaking his head as you giggled some more and finally sat up.

Your head instantly found a home on his shoulder as you threw your legs across his lap. His arms encasing you in the warmth and scent of him. Everything that Steve was.

“A really, really good one, baby. One that I cannot even believe I was able to think up.”

Your bottom lip jutted out affectionately, nudging his cheek with your chin as he looked down at you and never let up on his smile, “You’re too sweet, Stevie.”

Steve thinks you’re the sweetest girl in the fucking universe.

You gave him hope, a whole pocket of it, that maybe just maybe he was capable of love with the right person.

You.

Everything was different with you. Steve had finally found someone who he cared about deeply, someone who he wanted to be a better person for. He knew that he had made mistakes in the past, but he was determined to make things right for you. He wanted to show you how much he cared, and how much he was willing to change for the better.

“What did I do to deserve you?” He proposed, watching the way you thought for a second, so many different reasons flowing through your head.

You shrugged, playing with the fabric of his t-shirt and looking down shyly as you spoke, “I don’t know…all I know is that you swept me off my feet and you haven’t let me down since.”

“Aren’t you such a romantic?” He teased, poking your side making your squeal before playfully smacking his chest with a pout.

“Seriously,” He added, “Sometimes I pinch myself because I can’t believe you’re actually here with me.”

With a look of vulnerability in his eyes, you were slightly taken aback. Sure you and Steve would always brag about how lucky you both were to have each other, but you just knew that this was coming from a different place…a different part of Steve, one where you could instantly catch the insecurity and doubt in his voice.

"What do you mean?" you urged gently, reaching out to take his hand, and look up to meet his eyes, yet now he looked down.

Steve hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “I mean…I don’t know why you would ever want to be with me. I’ve messed up so many times in the past, and I’m still trying to figuring things out.”

He finally looked up at you, brows furrowed as he tried to elaborate, “I—I just feel like I’m always doing something wrong, or that I’m not enough for you. And…I just don’t want to fuck up what we have because of how I treated other girls in the past.”

To be quite honest, you didn’t care about the stories that had been circulating about Steve’s past relationships, because you knew a different version of Steve now. You could tell that he genuinely cared about you, and that he was willing to put in the effort to make things work between you two.

You saw beyond his popularity and charm, and recognized the kind, caring person that he was underneath it all. Right off the bat, Steve was honest with you. He told you about how exhausted he was with meaningless relationships. That he wanted to move past that stage in his life and actually have a connection with someone, you.

He was everything that you ever wanted and you wanted him to see himself the way that you saw him—as a kind, caring person who was worthy of love and affection.

“You do deserve me, Steve,” you said firmly, looking him directly in the eye. “I’m with you because I see the person that you are and not the person you think you’re defined by because of the past.”

As you sat on the couch with Steve, staring into his own unsure eyes, you remember how, when you were younger, you used to think that love was supposed to be crazy and wild. You believed that the more dramatic and intense the relationship, the more you were in love. You thought that fights were an indication of passion and that intense emotions were proof of how much you cared for each other.

But you were so wrong, and you wished you realized that back then, but you knew better now and now you were here with better…Steve.

Your ex-boyfriends used to make you cry and left you hiding away in bathrooms not knowing how to deal with the constant conflict. They had made you feel small and insignificant, and you had thought at the time that it was a normal part of being in a relationship.

You remember how the fights would go on and on without any resolution. You both would talk in circles, never truly hearing each other out, and then one of you would storm out without a word, leaving the issue unresolved. It was exhausting, and you always yearned for something more.

And then you had the privilege and honor of meeting Steve Harrington. The guy who changed the playing field and showed you, for the first time, what love felt like. It wasn’t crazy or wild, but steady and supportive.

You remembered those horrible feelings of the past and you needed Steve to know that the past worries would be defeated soon.

“Remember Ryan?”

His face turned up in confusion and disugst, “Ryan? Your ex-boyfriend? Yeah—wait, why’re we talking about Ryan?”

You laughed a bit, shaking your head as you urged him to listen.

“Ryan was a dick. He made me cry all the time and…I used to think that it was normal. That it was ok.” You paused, taking a deep breath. “He made me feel so unlovable, Steve. Like I would never measure up to be a good girlfriend. Ever.”

Steve squeezed your hand, sensing the importance of your story, “I never thought that I was ever going to be loved because of how he made me feel…but I was so wrong, because I’m sitting here with you.”

Steve looked at you for a long moment, and you could see the doubt slowly melting away from his eyes. “Screw Ryan” he mumbled, making you throw your head back and laugh, nodding as he smiled lightly.

“Yeah, screw him.” You agreed, “And you wanna know something else?”

He hummed, grazing his thumbs across your knuckles as he brought them closer to his lips and laid a kiss to your delicate skin, “What, baby?”

“I’m so thankful for all of the girls you loved before, because they all led you to me.”

You weren’t going to lie, even though you accepted that Steve had quite the track record, it still was intimidating to know he’d been with so many girls—worried that you might just be a name written in his blank space. It might have made you insecure or doubtful in the beginning, but Steve had done more than prove that not only was he a changed man, but that all of those experiences led him right to you.

That all this time, those storms and breakdowns would somehow lead you both together. Wrapping up all of your shared hurt and mistakes in barbed wire in order to understand and sympathize with your respective pasts. That all this time, those parallel lines were ribbons of strings tying you both together.

Steve looks at you, his eyes full of surprise and admiration. “Really?” he asks, his voice tinged with disbelief.

You smile at him, feeling the warmth of his hand in yours as you nodded, “Every single girl you’ve ever loved made you the man that you are now,” you continue. “And I’m in love with you more than any other girl ever was. I see all of the amazing qualities that you have, and I know that they came from the struggles you faced in the past.”

Steve’s eyes crinkle with joy as he takes your face in his hands. Every ounce of doubt he had within himself dissipating with every moment and breath he got to spend here with you. That he would spend forever on this couch delving into both of your feelings if it meant getting the chance to fall even more deeply and madly in love with you than he already was.

Never in a million years did he ever think that he’d be sitting here with you. He knew that his younger self would be racing up and down the hallways of his childhood home and celebrating at the top of his lungs if he knew that he’d be getting to spend every passing second with the girl of his dreams and someone who accepted him for him.

His mother, despite their distant relationship, always told him to never let the right girl slip out of his life because of the wrong decisions. That he would know when he was in love and that when he knew, he best treat her with kindness and stay loyal to her for eternity. That love could last a lifetime if you treat it right.

“You know, I’ve never really loved any other girl except you?” He’s looking back and forth between your eyes, making sure you understand, “Sure, I thought I did at the time, but looking back now, it was nothing compared to what I feel for you.”

Teenage love was nothing compared to what you and Steve had. There was something enchanting and magical that you two had that made it so everything else in the past was lost in the past. That there was no harm in saying goodbye to people who damaged or made you feel less than, because that only led you one step closer to what you always wanted and who you always deserved.

Steve’s words hit you hard, and you can feel your heart swelling with love and gratitude. You lean in and plant a soft kiss on his lips, savoring the sweetness of the moment.

“I love you so much, baby,” you whisper, your forehead pressed against his.

“I love you too, more than anything,” he replies, his arms wrapped tightly around you.

You can feel the warmth of his embrace and the steady beat of his heart against your chest, and it’s like nothing else in the world matters. You know that you’ve found your forever person that you’re going to spend forever with.

“Wanna dance?” you say, breaking the silence.

Steve looks at you with affection, and you can see a soft smile spreading across his face before he gets up, offering you his hand. “Let’s dance, baby.”

“Hey Google, play “Lover” by Taylor Swift.” You announced, grinning back at him as the familiar tune fills the living room of the house that you and Steve had made yours.

You wrap your arms around his neck, and he pulls you close, swaying gently to the music. As you dance, you feel the love and happiness that you have for each other. The two of you stayed there, lost in each other’s embrace, enjoying the simple pleasure of being together.

He leaned in to give you a gentle kiss, feeling grateful for the chance to be with someone who makes him feel so loved and understood. You both know that love isn’t always easy, but with each other, it feels like it’s worth all the effort.

You know that this moment, and this love, is exactly how forever should feel.

A/N: all credits to taylor swift for writing and releasing this beautiful song!!!! this song is so fucking steve coded that I literally had to run and make this and funny enough finished it in one sitting!!! let me know what you think and please interact by reblogging, commenting, adding tags, and liking!!! it's greatly appreciated!! 🧸💘💫

taglist (if you would like to be added just leave a comment!): @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world

[dunavision]

Doujinshi Escaflowne Tales #3: “Second chance” first arc (2013-2015)

“Second chance” is a emotionally charged story that delves into the complexities of mental illness, the enduring power of love, and the indomitable spirit of human resilience. Inspired by the beloved anime series, Escaflowne, this fanfiction work takes readers on an journey by imagining the futures of the show’s beloved characters long after the original series concludes.

Spanning an impressive 200 pages, “Second chance” is a labor of love that showcases my dedication during the almost three years I worked on it. It’s not perfect, as I’m not a profesional, but it really made me happy. The updates on social media gathered a bunch of people interested in my work and at the end I even printed it and sold some copies!

You can read the whole story at Devianart (bigger size, better readability)

Summary (spoilers)

Hitomi Kanzaki is now 25 years old and suffers from depression, a condition that has made her retreat from the world and isolate herself. She exists in a perpetual state of numbness, simply going through the motions of daily life. However, fate has other plans for her.

One morning she finds herself transported back to the mystical world of Gaea, a place she thought she had left behind forever. Her return brings her face to face with her old friends and companions, such as Millerna and Allen Schezar. But the reunion does little to lift her spirits, as she grapples with the weight of her own despair.

Hitomi’s apprehension grows as she anticipates the moment she will once again encounter Van, her former lover. The passage of time has changed them both, and she worries that their connection may no longer be as strong as it once was. Little does she know that in her absence, Van has become obsessed with her, crafting a cult that worships her as a mythological goddess of fortune. This revelation only adds to Hitomi’s burden, as she must navigate her complex emotions and unravel the truth behind Van’s newfound devotion.

To complicate matters further, Merle has also grown and now openly declares her love for Van. Suspicion and reticence fill the air whenever Hitomi is present, casting a shadow over her hopeful reunion with Van.

As Hitomi navigates through this new chapter of her life, she shares with Van that her time on Gaea was greatly misunderstood by those she left behind at Earth. The people who were supposed to support her instead labeled her as mentally ill and delusional, forcing her into therapy and medication. The heartbreak of this realization weighs heavily on her soul, but it also serves as a catalyst for her to begin anew.

With newfound determination and clarity, Hitomi opens her heart to Van, revealing the depth of her love for him. In the end, Hitomi finds solace in the arms of Van, as they rediscover their deep, soulful connection. They are ready to embrace the unknown, leaving behind the ghosts of their past and stepping into a bright new chapter of their lives.

[watatsumiis]

hey! ty for liking my tsaritsa so much!!! i'd love to hear more of your thoughts on her, if there are any!

omg of course, she's absolutely stunning, your art style does her so much justice (and honestly is just an awesome gorgeous style in general!!) and tbh your design is how I picture her in my head now !!

I have a lot of thoughts and ideas about the Tsaritsa, a lot of them are just kind of ~vibe~ based and hard to convey, but i'll toss them beneath the cut!

I really like the theory that her 'ideal' is love, like it's such a fun and interesting concept

like, to begin with i imagine she was a very kind deity, not in a familiar way, but in a general sort of .. benevolent to her subjects and open to those that sought an audience with her. Not exactly 'warm', but not entirely shutting them out either

though i imagine that sort of hollowed out as time wore on and she realised that even being an actual deity didn't give her the power she needed to be able to make any real tangible changes to things or help those who were doomed from the start (which is probably a big part of why shes so anti-celestia or whatever)

despite her despair and attitude towards romantic love sort of withering, she places a heavy emphasis on familial love (including found family) and on forming bonds that will stand the test of toil and time

she comes off very aloof, especially to those beneath her, and will actively try to avoid being around others if she can help it. She dislikes forming close attachments

this isnt to mean that she doesn't care. she just cares so much that the only way she can deal with it is by distancing herself, or else she's just setting herself up for repeated heartbreak when her loved ones inevitably die.

the exception to this ? pierro.

pierro is cursed with undeath, and even before that he was someone with a fiercely loyal (and stubborn) streak.

they both told themselves theyd never allow themselves to become attached to someone else after all the losses theyd been through, but in making this pact alongside one another they basically sealed their own fate

there are no simple words for the kind of intertwined, codependent, epic-spanning love-hate they have for one another.

their bond was one forged in the fires of loss and hardened by the ice of grief. despite what they both may say, they're in it for the long haul. Tsaritsa has slowly become accustomed to this idea. Pierro has not and will still vehemently deny it.

i guess to really shave it down id call it a queerplatonic relationship. something unholy and gorgeous. two flowers holding onto a cliffside by the tips of their roots and growing around one another.

the second 'exception' is columbina. i imagine she's like a weird nibling to the tsaritsa. she was picked to be amongst the harbingers because of her ability to light up any room she's in (i imagine tsaritsa secretly has a nickname for her that's somewhere along the lines of 'songbird' because of her voice ngl)

outside of this, the tsaritsa is cool and aloof and works very hard to maintain her composure, especially when under scrutiny. she is brilliant at keeping this facade in place.

until she's no longer in the public gaze, that is.

i like to think she's a tiny bit of a goofball, she has a soft spot for 'dad jokes' that make pierro roll his eyes and rub his temples, and she quite enjoys wine (im sorry but if she were a facebook mom her page would be minion memes and posts talking about how its wine o-clock)

she also rather enjoys slapstick humour - there are a few dottore clones running around who have perfected it enough so that she has to cover her mouth with a hand to stop her subjects from seeing the way her lips twitch upwards as she holds back her laughter

she's also really, really petty. not that she'd ever do anything about it, but more than once pierro has found himself in her chambers late at night, watching as she paces back and forth, her sixth glass of wine in hand, and complains about how that 'brick-brained geo archon just won't sign the damn contract! isn't that his entire shtick?!'

she also has a soft spot for kids, or people who have a youthful energy about them. it reminds her that maybe not all is bad in the world, and that she's going to change it for the better for their sake.

I like to think she's extremely good at various sports - i love the idea featured on the asker's blog about her having an elk instead of a horse. that's so cool and lives in my brain rent free and forever tbh. her and pierro on their steeds racing through a snowy forest on a rare free afternoon

i think she would've once been the type to enjoy prosey, flowery words, long poems, romantic tales of star-crossed lovers, that kind of thing. she read a lot and even wrote some. not any more though.

she has a very stern and strict air about her and won't hesitate to play into that if she feels like she needs to, but honestly she's got a good sense of humour on her. things that pierro scolds the other harbingers and such for are often things that she secretly finds really funny

though ALSO she's a stickler for good manners. i like to think that has extended to the snezhnayans , who are, when dealing with those outside of their immediate familial circles, are super duper polite (even if their tones may come off as abrupt). there's also a very heavily laid-on vibe of 'respect your elders' in snezhnaya.

she has such motherly vibes, but in a really standoffish way. she wont tell someone directly that she cares about them or what happens to them, but it'll be rerouted through like three other people like a game of telephone. like, yeah, that one person she caught shivering while on guard is gonna get a nice new pair of gloves but it will be from an anonymous donor (or just shoved into their hands by pierro with an annoyed grunt)

honestly now ive started im kind of finding it hard to stop but i just adore the tsaritsa so much and i love love love how you draw her so much, she's just so amazing and feels so like.. real, y'know? thank you so much for this ask, i really enjoyed rambling and thinking about the tsaritsa some more. i think your design and ideas should be canon actually

[the-insufferable-woman]

November 25th, 26th, 2024

November 25th, 2024 - 1:52 PM

On the day of the election, my For You Page on TikTok was full of people telling me to hold on, that this was just the "red mirage," that the "blue shift" was going to happen, and that we shouldn’t worry, that everything was going to work out. There was this collective hope that, even though the numbers looked bad, things would turn around. It was like everyone was clinging to that sliver of hope, that one last thing we could hold onto before it was all too real. I remember watching those TikToks and thinking, Okay, maybe this is just the calm before the storm. Maybe it’s not over yet.

But as I watched the numbers trickle in, my gut dropped lower and lower. The “blue shift” never came. The red mirage stayed, and it was no longer a mirage—it was reality. Trump had won. Again. 

The day after the election, I went back to TikTok, thinking maybe I could find some sort of comfort, some silver lining, something to make sense of it all. But instead, my FYP was full of shock, anger, and fear. The posts were filled with raw emotion—raw, real, unfiltered emotions—and all I could do was scroll, trying to process the same feelings that were pouring out of the people I follow.

TikToks like:

"How everything feels watching my rights dissolve in real time" - @urfaveetwink_

"He lost and all they felt was rage. She lost and all I feel is fear" - @mailealexa

"Me pretending to act shocked when a racist predator wins the election as if the foundation of our nation was not built on those exact values (genocide, slavery, and misogyny)" - @celebg0ss

"Was I living in a social media bubble wtf went wrong?" - @elbyjo

"No longer a palatable liberal" - @maadi_city

"Me going from an annoying feminist to a D1 misandrist after this election" - @backwooodbaby

"The sadness is morphing into anger. I have never felt female rage like this." - @annashlap

"Group of guys next to me talking about e-bikes… group of girls walking by talking about how they cried all morning" - @kelsey_kotzur

"When I see someone post ‘don’t let politics affect friendships’ on my feed" and the sound is “I gotta Ku Klux Klan member on my page. Let me block this Ku Klux Klan member.”

"Me going on an unfollowing spree bc it is in fact that deep" - @zappyh.dj

"Get ready for me to become the most unbearable woman you’ll ever meet" - @nasal.spray.addict

"Girlhood in 2024 is holding your roommate who is also a queer woman while drunkenly crying over the election" - @cool.guylar

"Have passed 4 other people sobbing on the way to work. I hate it here" - @laurencahoone

"Slide 1: ‘Middle schoolers today experiencing Trump’s win for the first time, just like we did at their age.’ Slide 2: ‘Us now, current college students watching it all happen over again’" - @__erbear

"How many melatonin gummies will it take and what kind of technology do I need to acquire to be unconscious until 2028" - @notmiaalexander

"American core is watching the election and fearing your rights will be taken away but also worrying about a midterm cause you need good grades to get a degree that won’t even mean anything because it won’t get you a good job because the economy is declining" - @froyoyoyolo

The posts were everywhere—raw, unfiltered, heartbreaking, and yet, there was something comforting about seeing that it wasn’t just me who felt like this. There was this collective shock and grief in the air, like everyone had been hit by the same reality, but no one was prepared for it.

But here’s the thing: I saw these TikToks on the day after the election, maybe the day after that, but today? Today, when I scroll through my FYP? They’re gone. Completely gone. Not just the posts from people grieving or processing—everything related to the election. All of it. Gone. It’s like they’ve been erased. Censored. Maybe it’s a coincidence. Maybe it’s not. But all I know is that in the span of just a few days, the conversations about the election, the fears, the raw emotions, have been wiped from the face of the app. Maybe it’s just me being paranoid, but something about it feels… off.

November 26th, 2024 - 8:31 AM

I can’t stop thinking about those TikToks. 

Watching everything slip away, one vote at a time. Watching people choose a man who represents everything that’s wrong with this country—racism, misogyny, cruelty—and somehow, he still wins. It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t seem fair. And yet here we are.

The part that stings the most is how she lost. Kamala Harris, someone who gave me hope—who I thought represented something different—lost. 

I’m sad for all the women, the queer people, the marginalized communities who will suffer more because of this. I’m sad because it feels like we’re trapped in this loop where nothing changes, and the people who need help the most are always the ones left behind.

I guess this is the hardest part: realizing that the world doesn’t stop turning just because I’m grieving.

[bookaddict24-7]

REVIEWS OF THE WEEK!

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

___

196. My Love Mix-Up! Vol. 7 by Wataru Hinekure (writer) , Aruko (Illustrator) , Jan Mitsuko Cash (Translator)--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I'm happy I'm slowly devouring this series because I can make it last as long as possible. Watching these characters grow and fall further in love, or challenge their ideas of what love should look like is quickly becoming something I'm looking forward to reading every month.

This volume focused a lot on meeting parents and how each dynamic looks. I definitely giggled and thoroughly enjoyed the side couple's adventure in meeting the one set of parents. I never expected the dad to be the way he was, but he was hilarious and it makes a lot of sense why that character is the way she is.

The main couple also had some cute moments and some great discussions about the communication between the two of them and what they wanted in their futures. It was overall adorable, but also heartfelt.

Onto the next volume!

___

197. Friends with Boys by Faith Erin Hicks--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I really enjoyed FRIENDS WITH BOYS, I just wish that it was either longer, or part of a series.

The relationship between the MC and her brothers was full of complexity that made them realistic. I think the author did a good job of showing the relationship between the twins and how some connections change with growing up. One of the great mysteries I'd have liked to see explored more is the kids' relationship with their mother and how she isn't a part of their lives anymore.

I also would have loved to see more of these budding feelings the MC and one of her new friends hinted at during the story itself. And I really, really liked the new friendships that the MC finds when she feels at her loneliest. Which brought us to the history of one of the new friends and how anyone is capable of change, but even change can't alter the behaviour of someone in the past.

FRIENDS WITH BOYS explores the complexities of bullying, family, history, friendships, growing up, abandonment, grief, and overcoming judgments. I liked how Hicks tackled all of these topics, while still including a creepy undertone with the haunting.

With all of that being said, the ending felt rushed and feels super incomplete. I know that maybe this is intentional because it's supposed to just capture a moment in time for these kids, but I do wish I had more.

Overall, this was an enjoyable read and I think it'd be a great one for those readers on the cusp of high school. I hope the author re-explores this world in the future!

___

198. My Summer of You Vol. 1 by Nagisa Furuya--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I was very surprised by MY SUMMER OF YOU. It was cute, but so heartfelt. It also dealt with such a great friendship that turned to more and I loved seeing that journey for both of the characters. I could feel the angst and the slow burn in this, even as that heavy feeling of heartbreak lingered over the pages.

I know there are more in books in this series, but I loved how this story was captured in one volume. I thought that this story felt like one of those nostalgic summer experiences one might recall from their high school years, when they knew they were on the cusp of change.

If you want a pretty sweet story of two friends who move into potential love in the span of a summer, then this is the manga for you!

___

199. Punch Drunk Love Vol. 2 by Moscareto,Okdong(Illustrator)--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Where volume one of PUNCH DRUNK LOVE was endearingly odd and over the top, this one was starting to verge on cringey territory. I still enjoyed the hell out of it and devoured it, but even I had to pause at times to just shake my head at this MC.

I did feel bad for him at times, though--especially because his interest is so definite and pure that seeing the other guy treat him badly had my empathy going wild. I wanted him to have one of those moments where he just stepped back and let the love interest miss him, but then I realized it would completely go against his character.

We got some more background for the love interest and some good reasoning for why he is the way he is. I'm so curious to see how he's going to be when he finally gives into the MC fully (which may or may not have been hinted at here). I'm definitely looking forward to volume three, because I need to know how chaotic these goblins will get in the future.

___

200. Mind Games by Nora Roberts--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

One of the things I really enjoy about Nora Roberts is how wary I always am of reading one of her books but then when I'm midway through the book I always come to the realization that I'm really, really enjoying myself.

There is a kind of comfort in the somewhat predictable nature of her novels.

MIND GAMES had a paranormal twist to it that made it slightly different from so many of her other romantic suspense books. I do find it entertaining how coincidental some of the character connections are. Like, what are the chances that THAT would be the love interest?

I think books like this one, even though they have jarring violent language sometimes from the antagonist (I don't mean swearing, I mean dark, murderous shit and misogynistic language to get a reaction out of the reader), are perfect for summer because they're so dependable. That's probably why I'm so hooked on Roberts' books.

I loved the relationship between the FMC and her grandmother and felt my heart break for her after the tragedy the family experiences. I would have wished a bit more of the one side of the family--in a weird way, that felt a little like a plot hole. Although, I AM grateful that it took some drama out of the whole thing.

The ability was cool and made me think a bit of INCEPTION, which I was not expecting. These FMCs always have such interesting jobs, I wonder what the next character will be!

Overall, this was enjoyable. It wasn't mind-blowing, but it was fun and had its darker moments. Another successful Roberts read!

___

201. The Goose Girl by Shannon Hale--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

The way that THE GOOSE GIRL is told may be simplistic to some, but I enjoyed it particularly for this reason. I think I would have enjoyed the heck out of this when I was younger, especially because of how the story begins and then proceeds to prove that the princess is indeed a badass.

I know this is an older title, but I feel like THE GOOSE GIRL is a hidden gem--kind of like THE WINTER KING (but of course, more age appropriate for younger readers). There was such a great sense of adventure and survival in this, plus I loved the fact that the princess had to hide who she was in order to survive. (I love a great underdog story).

This had a very low level romance, but I enjoyed that because this isn't really a story about the Princess and her future love interest--this was more about the MC herself and how she can come to accept and learn who she really is. She is also, quite literally, the epitome of the theme that "being different" can be a thing of beauty, despite what society tells you.

Anyway, I really, really liked this book and I want to read the second one soon. I can't wait to dive back into this world!

___

202. Kick at the Darkness by Keira Andrews--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I love Keira Andrews and she honestly has yet to let me down. KICK AT THE DARKNESS is one of her older titles and it was so much more than I was anticipating.

First of all, can we get a round of applause for the surprising third character in this book? That motorcycle is a pure hero and the fact that it was so protected during the whole book scratched at an itch I didn't know I had when it comes to apocalyptic novels (I always wonder what happens to the things characters leave behind in their attempts to survive). I love that it was to the point where near the end I was asking "What about the motorcycle?"

I kind of wish we had gotten a dual POV story, BUT I also understand why we didn't after a certain reveal. I like thinking back on all the hints I missed and how it all added up nicely when everything was revealed. I wasn't expecting it and it added a whole different layer to the story.

I liked how the two characters navigated their tense relationship. That enemies-to-lovers trope worked hard in this book. It was one of the major draws to the story for me and I loved seeing how much of a cinnamon roll one of the characters was, while the other one just started to melt for him.

I loved the road trip aspect and the connection between the two characters. The survival and misadventures as they travelled through the country was one of my favourite themes in this genre of fiction. It was spicy and had some surprising bits. Anyway, I loved this and I DO want to read the sequel one day.

I continue to love this author.

___

203. Heat Stroke by Tessa Bailey--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Okay, first of all, I didn't know Tessa Bailey had an MM romance. I will say that, despite how much I DID actually enjoy these two characters together, it was interesting to read a MM book from an author who I didn't even know wrote one or two MM books. There were a few scenes that...could have used some more research.

Anyway, the story itself was incredibly enjoyable. The one character being the biggest golden retriever was adorable af. But I liked that despite he wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer, he had goals and he strived to achieve them, even if the people around him didn't believe he could succeed. I also felt for his internal battle with his sexuality and how those he loved would perceive him if the truth was revealed. Even though this will always be a heartbreaking trope in certain MM romances.

The other MC was fun because he was so determined to be one way, that it was definitely enjoyable watching his facade just completely fall. I love characters who are so set in their ways that they don't realize when the love interest has gotten under their skin. He also had a horrible event happen to him in the past, so I can understand his hesitancy and guilt.

I picked this up because they're both lifeguards and I was craving more lifeguard MM stories. While the characters were cute together and I loved the angst, I do wish there was more lifeguarding bits. I know it sounds silly, but sometimes a very specific craving for a certain theme in a book hits and it's a little disappointing when I don't get a lot of what I thought I was going to when I first picked up the book.

Anyway, despite the lack of true lifeguarding (lmao), I enjoyed this and recommend to lovers of MM. Just keep in mind that the sex scenes are hella unrealistic and could have used a lot more research. Yes, they were spicy, but it felt very hetero but with an LGBTQ+ label on them (certain situations were incredibly unrealistic).

___

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

___

Happy reading!

[allthatsleftintheworld]

The Only Light Left Burning - Live blog (spoilers)

Andrew (chapter 2)

I’ve gotta say, I really love Eric’s writing pace. Leaving Jamie’s chapter on the hurricane and then dipping into the more day-to-day apocalypse issues is a nice touch. And with Andrew’s chapter I’m once again reminded why first person POV books are elite, his anxiety spiral is REAL. Don’t get me wrong, I fucking love Jamie, but I always feel comfort being in Andrew’s shoes in a weird way. I think they fit me better. Weird analogy, anyway…

Andrew interacting with the kids is lovely, and the humour in his internal monologue always gets me. Plus The Kid is very sweet. I have a horrible gut feeling that we’re getting introduced to these characters in preparation for them being taken over by fort Carolina, and now that I’m a mum it’s putting me on edge. But that’s a good thing, I want the book to make me invested in these characters, and I am in the span of literally a couple of pages.

Rocky Horror I am going to be so sad when you eventually use your body as a human shield to save Andrew from whoever is trying to kill them in this book. That is my prediction. I don’t know if it’s just because Eric has alluded to this book being absolutely heartbreaking, but the second I fall in love with a character I’m convinced he’s going to kill them off in a tragic way. And I may be taking this too personally, but Eric if you kill off this heavily tattooed character I’m going to think it’s a slight on me.

Last note, “where does one find lube in the apocalypse?” Did Eric read my fic? I’m concerned. I chose to believe he skimmed it and didn’t notice how rusty my writing is. Also it was a two year time jump so as long as Andrew doesn’t figure out the answer to this question during the book, my fic stays canon compliant.

[roslynnnikole-blog]

It's taken me days to try to articulate what I feel about Crescent City in one, coherent rant. Specifically, this first book..

There was SO much world building; I was practically pixelating into Lunathian, itself, watching the buildings rise around me, the river, the people.

Then? The story. Already ripping my heart out in just a few chapters. Now... The story continues. Twists, turns, surprise, and realization. This is NOT first person narration. The main characters hide much of their thought process until it's time for a reveal. We get to be surprised alongside other characters.

Now, let's get into SJM's ability to make all Hel break loose in the final 100 pages. I was STRESSED. I was INVESTED. I was... Completely, utterly, and unapologetically SHATTERED. I've never cried so hard, felt so much heartbreak, anxiety, and hope in such a short span of a book.

I still haven't fully recovered, even after finishing the series. My throat catches in desperate love and devotion amongst these characters. All I have to say from here? "Light it up." 😭🌙⚡✨

[streamafterlaughter]

Fundamental Differing

gif credit

masterlist | playlist | chapter vi

Chapter VII: Soft But Estranged

summary: an off day on tour doesn’t mean an off day for partying! The entire touring family heads out for what’s supposed to be a fun night off on the Vegas Strip.

tags/warnings: so much angst it’s gross, mutual pining, rockstar!eddie x rockstar!reader, slow burn, hurt/slight comfort, pining, longing, break up, excessive drinking

a/n: i’m turning up the dial on this fic to 11. angst to the max. no fluff all pain. torture. enjoy! Disclaimer: I do not give permission to have my work reposted on other sites. Reblogs are more than welcome, but please inform me if you find my work elsewhere unless otherwise stated. Reblog to support the author!

——

October 1989

“Oh, honey, come here.” Robin pulls you into a tight hug, letting you sob and snot into her shoulder. It’s three in the morning, and you’ve been drinking yourself into a stupor. You left Eddie a week ago, and haven’t been able to breathe right since. Seeing the video for The Crawl on MTV this morning sent you into a dizzying depression, remembering the days when Eddie would sit at the kitchen table trying to put the chords together. You wished you were with him, on tour, greeting him with kisses after every set. But he left for tour yesterday without telling you, and you only found out when Dustin asked why you weren’t with him. You hadn’t had the heart to tell him you’d broken up with him, so Steve had to break the news.

“I just don’t get it. Why didn’t he try harder? Why didn’t he fight for us?” You weep into the fabric of Robin’s shirt as she rubs your back in soothing circles.

“I don’t know, love, but he’s a fucking idiot.”

Present day

Your POV

Your issue of SPIN comes out today, and your heart is slamming in your chest in line to check out. In your hands is a copy of the magazine, a picture of Corroded Coffin plastered across the cover. Eddie’s eyes seem to glare even from the glossy paper, his arms crossed over his bare chest while the rest of his bandmates stand behind him, looking equally stoic. In the top corner of the page reads, Femme Punk Takeover: An Interview with Death Dance Approximately. You read the words over and over, refusing to spoil the spread for yourself until you’re alone and safe to scream with your friends about it.

Once you exit the store, magazine clutched in your hand, you speed walk back to the hotel you’re staying in. Today is your off day, but tomorrow you play a show on the one and only Las Vegas Strip. Your plans include celebrating the magazine spread by drinking yourselves silly.

Back in your hotel room, you kick your shoes off and fling yourself onto the bed. Robin’s out shopping with Steve, and Sylvie and Lilith are getting lunch, so you have the afternoon to yourself. Instead of diving right into your own spread, you curiously turn the pages until you find the Corroded Coffin interview. It spans four full pages, including photographs and quotes in bold, big lettering. You swear to yourself you’ll only skim, but that promise is quickly broken when you read the first sentence.

Kings of Rock, Corroded Coffin, sit uncomfortably in their folding director-esque chairs, as if sitting for an interview is the least punk thing they could be doing. Their frontman fidgets with his gleaming silver rings, his lips pressed together in concentration or annoyance.

Jessie Stevens: So, on your new album Freak Show, there’s a song titled Sweetheart. It’s far different from the rest of the tracks, a calming break before the climax of Severed Thumb and Wiped Clean. What influenced this mood change?

Eddie Munson: Sweetheart is about someone that was once very close to me. It’s about love and loss, and a whole shit ton of heartbreak, and the one person that never made me feel like, the freak, y’know?

J: Do you still talk to this person?

The frontman’s face falls a little, like he’s reminded of something upsetting.

E: It’s… complicated.

You roll your eyes. It’s not complicated, the answer is a firm no. You and Eddie don’t talk, not more than you’re forced to. You continue scanning the article, until you find something else that catches your eye.

J: You’re currently touring with Death Dance Approximately, who are quickly moving up in the world of rock. What advice would you give them as seasoned rockstars?

Munson pauses, looking at his bandmates with a question in his eyes.

E: I guess I’d tell them never to let go of themselves. I lost myself for a while, honestly I’m still pretty lost. The industry is brutal, it takes so much of your soul away from you, and if I could go back and tell myself one thing, it would be not to let go of who I was. I miss that person.

You read Eddie’s answer, over and over, your eyes stinging. You miss who Eddie was, before signing, before giving in to fame and attention the way he has. Desperately, you want to believe that sweet boy is still in there somewhere. You think he is, after the events of last night, but you’re not sure how to yank him out of the steel shell he’s built around himself.

Further down, one more thing catches your attention.

J: Do you wish you’d done anything differently? Whether it be in your career, or in your life outside of it?

E: I wish I fought harder for my people. I lost someone I loved so much. I let them walk out of my life without any objection. I wish so badly that I could’ve made them stay, but… It was too late. I’ll never know now. I’ll never get to fix it.

Munson’s bandmates look to each other knowingly, clearly aware that the mysterious person he speaks of is the reason for his sour mood.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” It’s barely a whisper, despite no one being in the room with you. All he had to do was ask, and you’d tell him everything. Why you left, what would’ve made you stay, but he’d rather tell the whole world he fucked up than just apologize to you.

—

Eddie’s POV

His copy of SPIN lay open in his lap as he reads the Death Dance interview. His bandmates are god knows where, enjoying their day off while Eddie mopes in his hotel room.

J: How do you guys feel about touring with one of the biggest names in rock?

Eddie rolls his eyes at the question, knowing you probably hated hearing his band brought up in your interview.

Y: I mean, we knew them growing up. It’s really cool to see them all again, and we’re honored to tour with them.

Eddie’s surprised you’d even mention knowing him at this point, it makes his heart beat a little faster.

J: You know Corroded Coffin?

Y: Yeah! I moved to Hawkins my senior year, where I met Robin, and they were all seniors. We played DnD together, made music together. We lost touch after high school, but the world is so small.

J: Is that what Indiana is about?

Y: In some respects, yeah. Indiana was a huge change from where I grew up in Boston, a much smaller, more conservative place for sure.

Eddie puts the magazine down, and reaches for his CD player. He skips to track 5, and closes his eyes as the guitars wail in his ears. He only knows parts of the song, from hearing it live when he can stomach watching your set, but somehow it feels like listening for the first time.

I’m from a city where no one knows each other / where we walk down streets avoiding eyes and shoving by / and when I moved to Indiana, I began to understand why / I wasn’t meant for smaller towns, where everyone knows my name, / but you had been there, my saving grace, / and now I miss the comfort. / I miss the sounds of singing birds, and the crackle of a fire. / I moved back to the city, and though it’s pretty, / it’s no longer what I know. / Indiana wasn’t home, but I found my home there / In the warmth of your eyes and the smell of your hair / I let myself believe I could make my life here / and when I lost you, I lost everything. / Indiana wasn’t home, but I found my home there. Indiana wasn’t home, and I lost my home there.

He plays the song four times before he can bring himself to breathe right again. Eddie can hear your heart breaking through your voice, the way it cracks on the chorus, the way you belt the final verse. All at once, he understands why you left, why you felt you had no choice. He was drowning in the pressure of being famous, leaving you behind to watch him from the shadows.

—

Your POV

You finally throw the magazine down, and rush to shower and get ready to go out. Tonight is your night off, a night to relax and not think about the boy across the hall. It’s easier said than done, though, as your mind keeps wandering to that final paragraph. I’ll never know now. I’ll never get to fix it. All he had to do was ask. You’d tell him everything; why you left, what could have gotten you to stay. But he’s been so cold, so distant with you, and you can’t really blame him. It’s just as difficult for you to be on tour with him, but you’re still trying to be mature about it.

Your spiral is disturbed by a knock on your door. You clip your earrings in and rush to answer it, smoothing your shirt to make sure you’re presentable. You open the door to Robin and Steve, their arms linked together like best friends on the playground. Both of them are dressed up, Steve in a button down and black slacks, Robin in sequined overalls that scream Vegas! They greet you with gleaming smiles, and you move aside to let them in.

“I’m almost ready! Any idea where we’re going?” You ask them both before pulling your lipstick out of your bag.

“We’re taking the strip by storm! It’s a group outing, everyone’s coming!” Robin claps her hands together

“Everyone?” You quirk an eyebrow, looking at her in the mirror.

She bites her lip and glances at Steve, who only shrugs. “Yeah, Gareth and Jeff overheard us planning, and we figured some bonding was in order. But don’t worry! We can separate when we get there.”

You smack your lips together and shrug. “It’s not me you have to worry about.” You turn to face them, extending your arms to present your glammed up self. “How do I look?”

“Like you’re gonna rip Eddie’s soul out of his bod— Ow!” Steve rubs where Robin has elbowed his arm. “You look beautiful.” He recovers, and you stick your tongue out at him.

“Let’s get goin’ then!” Robin heaves herself off the bed, and you hold the door for her and Steve, following them out the door.

—

The casinos are the most insane thing you’ve ever experienced. The bright lights almost blind you, and the sounds of slot machines are so loud you can’t hear yourself think. It’s no wonder no one wins these things, it’s impossible to concentrate.

“C’mon!” Sylvie grabs hold of your wrist, leading you and your bandmates to the blackjack table. You glance behind you, sending a help me look to Steve, who shrugs in defeat as he follows Eddie and Jeff to the bar.

“Robin, I don’t know how to play!” You object, but she’s already sitting in a free stool by the dealer.

“No worries, babe, this is all on me. I just want you all to watch me win!” She’s buzzed, having gulped her champagne down in the car on the way here. You giggle at her confidence, knowing damn well she also has no idea how to gamble.

“Whatever you do, don’t bet our royalties.” Lilith nudges her, hiccuping on her own bubbly.

“Yeah, yeah. Hit me!” She slaps the table, and the dealer smirks like he knows he’s about to watch Robin lose all of her disposable income.

—

Eddie’s POV

“Whiskey, neat.” He orders his drink, flopping down on an empty stool. Steve sits next to him, while Jeff orders drinks for himself and Gareth. “Come hang out, man!” Jeff calls when he receives his drinks, already walking to the table his bandmates sit at with yours. Eddie nods a response, nursing his drink.

“You gotta at least try to enjoy yourself tonight.” Steve says, taking a sip of what looks like fruit punch.

“I am enjoying myself, Steven” Eddie holds up his whiskey, as if to prove the point. Steve glares at him, and Eddie takes a swig. “What?”

“You’re moping! You’re a famous rockstar on a cross country tour, and you’re moping. Had I known you were gonna be a drama queen this whole time I would’ve brought a goddamn book to read.”

Eddie groans, taking another sip. “I know, I know. I’m miserable.”

“You need to talk to them.” Steve says bluntly, not looking at Eddie.

“Why would I do that?”

“I know you want to.”

“I do not!”

Steve snorts, and Eddie presses his lips together in annoyance. “You read that interview, right?” Eddie nods. “So you know they talk about you now. You’re on their mind. You listen to the song they mentioned?” He nods again. “So you still care about what they have to say. What’s stopping you? Why are you so fucking scared?”

Eddie turns in his chair, back to where your band sits at the table, anxiously watching as Robin plays another round. Your face is pink, caused by the alcohol or the warmth of the building. Your shirt hugs your frame tightly, accentuating your features. You lift a glass of champagne to your lips, pinky extended, leaving a smear of red lipstick on the rim of the glass. Your eyes sparkle with excitement as your friends cheer Robin on. You have a happy glow to you, and it takes everything inside of Eddie to rip his eyes away. “What’s stopping me is the fact that they deserve better.” Eddie grumbles, gulping the rest of his liquor down and calling the bartender over. “I don’t want to ruin this for them. I’m already here, and that can’t be easy. I want them to enjoy this experience, I don’t want to intrude on it.”

“So, what, you’re just gonna drink yourself to death every time we have an outing? You think that isn’t causing them any distress? Your liver is gonna deteriorate soon, man. May wanna figure out a different strategy.”

“Will you get off my ass about drinking, Harrington? It’s rich, coming from the kid that shotgunned like sixty beers a week his freshman year of high school.”

Steve chuckles, and Eddie can’t hide the grin creeping onto his face. “Fair enough. But that was high school. I didn’t have a billion fans relying on me not to die of alcohol poisoning.”

“Nah, just the six hundred Hawkins High students. Big whoop!” Eddie emphasizes his point with a show of jazz hands. “Either way. If I’m gonna talk to them, I’m gonna be drunk when I do it.” Eddie gulps down his second drink in one go, feeling the effects of the alcohol starting to kick in.

“Whatever, dude. You wanna go play some cards?” Steve offers his hand, and Eddie takes it begrudgingly, yanking himself away from the bar and into the mass of the crowded casino. He’s forced to squeeze by you, apologizing under his breath as he brushes against your back, sidestepping between the tables. You don’t seem to notice. He takes his place next to Gareth, and Steve stands firmly between him and you, a bridge neither of you dare to cross. Eddie feels your eyes on him, and it takes everything inside of him not to look back. Instead, he’s dealt into the next hand, planning only to play one round as a distraction from your presence. The waiter drops off another round of drinks, and Eddie slaps his palm on the table. “Deal me in.”

—

“Okay, that’s enough!” Steve yanks on an objecting Eddie’s arm, hauling him away from the table. He’s already lost a good chunk of change, both at the table and to the expensive drinks he’s been gulping down. Despite his objections, Steve manages to drag Eddie out of the casino unscathed.

“Here,” Steve sticks a cigarette between Eddie’s lips and lights it for him. “Sober up a little.”

Eddie plucks the lit stick from his mouth and exhales, the cool night air bathing his warm face.

“Where,” Eddie’s eyes are glassy, his vision blurring as he takes in his surroundings.

“We’re outside the casino. Waiting for the car.” Steve lights a cigarette for himself, inhaling as Eddie does the same.

“Where’s Y/n?” He realizes suddenly that he hasn’t seen you in hours.

“Back at the hotel. They left a while ago, but you didn’t want to get up. Sometime around your fourth hand, when you accused the dealer of cheating.” Eddie looks down at his feet, seeing four of them, and hums in response. “They told me to make sure I get you home safe.”

He looks back up to his friend, cautiously optimistic. “They said that?”

Steve nods, a smirk on his face. “Told me they’d kick my ass if anything happened to you. So I’m keeping my promise.” The car pulls up, and Steve opens the door for Eddie. “C’mon, in ya go.”

Eddie lets his eyes slip closed as the car starts moving, promising himself he won’t throw up on Steve. He thinks of all the ways he could possibly tell you he’s sorry, how he could start to mend the wounds he’s caused you. He’s going to, he decides, as soon as he can manage to walk on his own.

—

Your POV

There’s a banging on your hotel room as you’re clawing your way out of your clothes. You pull your big t-shirt on, pause Breaking The Girl, and rush to answer it. You’re expecting room service with some wine, or Steve with tomorrow’s game plan. “Coming!” You call, finally opening the door, only to be greeted by Eddie’s wobbly figure. “Oh. Hi.” You look at his nose as you speak, afraid of what would happen if your eyes were to meet his. His face is flushed from the drinking, his eyes glazed over and his hair frizzy.

“Hi. Bad time?” He looks you up and down, causing your cheeks to warm despite your blood running cold. You realize now that the shirt you’re wearing is one that once belonged to him. “I’ll, uh, go. I can um… I’ll come back later.” His speech is slurring, and you can smell the alcohol as he speaks.

“No!” You say, too quickly. “It’s okay, I’m just getting ready for bed. You wanna come in?”

Eddie hesitates, but you step aside to let him enter. He stumbles forward, placing himself gingerly in the chair across from the bed, where you sit across from him, acutely aware of your current pantsless state. “I read the interview.” Eddie starts, looking at the floor. You cross one leg over the other, waiting for him to continue. “And I’ve been listening to the album. Your album, I mean. It’s great, by the way, really fucking great.” He won’t look at you, instead focused on fiddling with his rings. You don’t respond, unsure where he’s going. “I came to say I’m sorry.”

Your eyes widen. This was the furthest thing from what you were expecting. “For what?”

Eddie slides further into the chair. “Everything. I’ve been such an asshole since the tour started. Especially to you. I wanna say I didn’t mean it, but I did. I wanted to hurt you. Flirting with all those girls, playing that fuckin’ song in front of you. I meant all of it.”

You bite your lip, unsure of how to respond. You doubt Eddie will even remember this conversation tomorrow, so you refuse to let his words convince you of anything. You don’t answer, just blink at him as he continues searching for the words to explain himself.

“I was trying to ignore it, I guess. How I felt about seeing you again. I was hiding it, and probably really poorly. I can't imagine it’s been easy for you, either, but you seem so happy. And it’s made me realize how horrible I’ve been.” He looks up from the floor then, his eyes searching yours for an answer. His face is flushed, his hair disheveled, and his lips are set in the pout that always got your heart stalling.

You clear your throat quickly, knowing it will crack under the pressure otherwise. “Eddie, it’s not your fault. You didn’t force this tour to happen. It’s an unfortunate coincidence.” He winces at your words, and you rush to correct yourself. “I mean, we didn’t know we’d see each other like this. We weren’t prepared. The way you’ve been acting, though hurtful, is completely understandable.” You want to cry. You want to throw Eddie out of your hotel room so you can sob into your pillow. But you don’t move, and neither does he.

“Why’d you leave?” He asks after a long moment of silence. “What happened to us?”

You know he’s drunk, and you shouldn’t be indulging him, but you’ve wanted to say so much to him since breaking it off, and you’re still a bit tipsy. “I was losing you. To groupies, to the label, to whatever you had become, and I didn’t think it was fair to fight it. This is all you’ve ever wanted, all we ever talked about when we were together. And you got it! The only thing you ever wanted. And I am beyond proud of you, Eddie. Who was I to pull you away from it? I couldn’t hold you back from this, but I couldn’t live in the background either. I couldn’t make you choose between me and your dream, so I chose for you.” Your voice falters as you explain, eyes threatening to spill the tears they harbor. “You deserve everything you ever want, Ed. I truly believe that.” You don’t tell him you still wish he wanted you.

Eddie is less than graceful in his response. “I would’ve chosen you. Over and over again, Y/n. I wish I hadn’t made you feel like you were my backup, my plan B. I lost sight of us, I know that now.” You sigh, your heart breaking as he speaks. Years ago, it’s all you wanted to hear. But it’s too little, too late now. “It got to my head, having you and getting signed. I felt like I could have it all. It got overwhelming, and I didn’t realize what I was doing to you. You were right to leave, and I’m so sorry it took me this long to figure it out. I blamed you for my misery when I caused all of it myself.”

You get up from the bed, and approach Eddie, kneeling beside the chair so he’s forced to look at you. “I appreciate the apology, Ed. I know you mean it. But I needed to leave for my own sake, too. I couldn’t keep competing with you, with all of the attention you were getting. I needed to focus on my own dreams, and I couldn’t convince you to root for me the way I had for you. Now that I’m here, I’m glad it happened this way. I wouldn’t have gotten here any other way.” You rest your hand on his knee, and you feel a drop fall from his cheek onto your finger. “You’ll always be special to me. I need you to know that.”

Eddie nods, sniffling. You stand up and offer him your hand. He takes it hesitantly, and you feel the familiarity of his calloused fingers entwined with yours. You can’t bring yourself to let go as he gets to his feet, missing the way his skin feels on yours. “Let’s get you back to bed, yeah?” You lead him out of your room and down the hall. “You got your key?”

Eddie clumsily pats his many pockets before finding his key card in his vest. He swipes it, and you pull him into the messy room, the bed unmade, empty beer bottles lining the nightstand and entertainment center. Eddie collapses onto the bed, and you get to work yanking his shoes off the way you used to after a long night out. He’s still in his jeans, but you don’t make a move to take them off. He’s not yours to take care of anymore, and if he wakes up uncomfortable, it’s not your problem. “Okay. Goodnight, Eddie.” You’re about to leave when you hear him whisper something. “What was that?” You don’t want to believe what you think you heard, but he says it again, clearer this time. “I’d still choose you.” You press your lips together, stifling your sobs as you close the door behind you. You can’t bring yourself to believe him.

—

chapter viii

taglist: @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @wiildflower-xxx @beebeerockknot @champagne-glamour @xxgothwhorexx @therensistance @chonkzombie @brxkenartt @sidthedollface2 @bibieddiesgf @gaysludge @eddiesguitarskills @littlepotatobeansworld | send a message to be added!

[superfunnygirl]

❝but why offer me sweet now, when it's salt i'm hooked on?❞

salt fish girl by larissa lai is poetic and heartbreaking. at its core, it’s a story about longing—longing for a sense of self, for connection, for a world that feels whole.

at its heart is identity, but not in a shallow, surface-level way. it’s about the ways we are constantly becoming, often in defiance of the roles the world tries to force on us. miranda’s mutated body becomes this profound metaphor for how difference—whether physical, cultural, or personal—can feel both isolating and powerful. and then there’s nu wa, whose existence spans lifetimes, her journey showing how identity can transcend time, space, even flesh. it’s about holding onto yourself in a world that wants to define you for its own purposes.

and capitalism. i love the way the way ms. lai dismantles it. it’s not just about the corporations or the surveillance; it’s the way capitalism invades everything—our bodies, our desires, our very understanding of freedom. the genetic engineering in the novel isn’t just sci-fi horror; it’s a reflection of the ways capitalism reduces people to tools, commodities, products. miranda’s father, selling her life to the state without a second thought, is the perfect metaphor for how deeply these systems infiltrate even our most personal relationships.

but even deeper than that is how lai ties capitalism to colonialism. the salt fish girl herself—her story is about migration, survival, and erasure. it’s about what gets stolen when people are displaced, but also what survives, hidden in language, memory, and story. i think it makes you feel the pain of cultural loss and the quiet rebellion of refusing to let that loss define you.

and then there’s environmental destruction, which isn’t just a backdrop—it’s woven into every breath of the novel. the pollution, the toxicity, the genetic mutations—they aren’t just plot points; they’re symbols of the ways we’ve poisoned not just the earth but ourselves. the stench of durian becomes this haunting reminder of everything we’ve tried to forget about our own destruction. yet, lai also shows us resilience—the way nature, even when wounded, refuses to die quietly.

but maybe the most powerful thread in all of this is love. not love as romance, but love as rebellion and love as survival in a way. miranda and evie’s relationship isn’t perfect—it’s messy and complicated, full of doubt and fear. but it’s also transformative. it’s a reminder that love, in all its forms, is a way of resisting systems that want to strip us of humanity. it’s love that carries us forward, love that refuses to let us forget who we are.

salt fish girl is sooooo much more than a novel. it’s a meditation on what it means to live in a broken world while dreaming of something whole. it’s about finding beauty in the grotesque, connection in the disjointed, and hope in the ruins. it’s haunting and strange and perfect, and it’s the kind of story that stays with you long after you’ve turned the last page.

this is my take on it, let me know if you disagree on anything :) . also do people even still read book reviews or book blogs lol???

[horrificbooks]

Get To Know Me

~ 𐙚🧸ྀི ~

Name: Sam

Age: 27

Location: UK

~ 𐙚🧸ྀི ~

Why am I here:

I wanted to have a Tumblr account where I could interact with and participate in the bookish/booklr community (communities). I’ve decided I want to make a career for myself focusing around books and reading. I grew up reading, as many of us did and was obsessed with primary school book fairs and the library buses. I loved analysing books (Through my own ideas, not through forced thought) and annotating them. It felt as though every pocket of my life held capacity for books. I plan on creating my own space of community across various social platforms and, in time, bring forth my own book subscription box.

~ 𐙚🧸ྀི ~

Questions! 𓂂 𓇼˚｡ •

1. “What is the first book you remember reading that had a significant impact on you?”

𓂂 𓇼˚｡ • Whilst I recall reading many books growing up, I remember picking up a book with a white puppy on the cover titled “Alfie”. I assume I picked this one up to read as, at the time, I had a dog who was my best friend in the entire world (🥰💖🕊️) called Alfie. However, this book was heartbreaking to me. I remember reading it in class during one of my primary school classes and I ended up crying. One of the other kids pointed it out to the teacher in which I had to explain I was saddened by my book not by anything a fellow student had said or done to me.

2. “If you could live in any fictional world from a book, which would it be?”

𓂂 𓇼˚｡ • I’m going to choose a world from my favourite books as I feel I know them better than worlds taken from blurbs on the backs of my TBRs. With this being said, I’d firmly say the GrishaVerse world 💓

3. “Which format do you enjoy best to consume your books?”

𓂂 𓇼˚｡ • I love a physical book. It’s the only way I can enjoy a book. I don’t know if it’s because that’s how I grew up engaging with literature or if I find it too easy to zone-out when listening to audiobooks and e-reading. This also goes for any type of adult picture book like comics, graphics novels and manga.

4. “Who is your favourite author? What do you love about their writing style?”

𓂂 𓇼˚｡ • Chloe Walsh. I love(!!!) how she writes her characters and how they’re all so uniquely memorable and there’s no chance of mixing them up even if they enjoy similar hobbies. I also love how as a non-romance-(for the most part now)-reader she had me giggling, sobbing, shocked, and laughing in the span of a few pages. I love that she makes me so invested in her characters and in their stories that their tragedies make me cry when 99.9% of the time I don’t get physical reactions from reading.

5. “What book do you think everyone should read once in their lifetime?”

𓂂 𓇼˚｡ • As much as I’d love to have answer, I don’t have one. Reading is such a personal and unique experience it’s not worth trying to tell someone they should read something. I feel with books because they can be all consuming, life-changing and of course, take hours or more to get through, I believe it’s best for people to reach for a book when they want as the pressure of knowing somebody is waiting for you to read the book and/or the expectations for how the book will be enjoyed can easily be discouraging or make for the book to be less than what it could have been had the person chosen it for themselves.

~ 𐙚🧸ྀི ~

Bye for now ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ

https://www.instagram.com/horrific.books?igsh=MWE5N3o3aDdjbXRmZA%3D%3D&utm_source=qr

[fettesans]

Top, screen captures from various webcams in Austria, Italy and Germany showing Northern Lights, May 10, 2024. Via Nahel Belgherze. Bottom, Clarence John Laughlin, Woman Attacked by a Cloud (Descent of a Cloud), 1941, Silver gelatin print. Via.

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Throughout The Mystery Guest, Boullier certainly does not sound like a man in top form, and his willingness to make himself appear buffoonish saves the book from being an agonizing exercise in flowery self-pity. In the kind of perfectly ironic detail that could only come directly from real life, he decides to distinguish himself by spending more than a month’s rent on a bottle of 1964 Margaux, only to learn that as part of her artistic practice, Calle keeps all of her birthday gifts in storage in their original wrapping. (If he really had been Jesus Christ, a bottle of Evian would have sufficed.) At the party, Boullier talks shit, and crosses the line between anonymous, iconoclastic interloper and garden-variety wine-drunk jerk. The prose is breathless, sometimes drunk seeming itself, and there is something realistic, even touching, about its perpetual ricocheting between hope and despair, often within the span of a single sentence. It is a tightly written portrait of the artist as a young(ish) mess, and its ingenuity lies in its positioning of the “mystery guest” as an idealized state that exists in diametric opposition to the thoroughly unmysterious position of the ex-lover. Familiarity breeds contempt, and it can also hasten breakups. If Boullier can make himself unknowable enough again, perhaps he can represent not only Calle’s future but also that of the woman who once loved him.

His problem—much to our delight, since this dilemma is what lends the book its jittery edge—is that he cannot be mysterious to save his life. In the final pages of the book, Boullier and Sophie Calle meet again some years later, and despite his misogynistic flinching at her age (“in five years she’d be fifty-five, and then sixty, and that vision was hopeless and implacable”), it becomes clear that they are twin souls, if not necessarily cut out to be lifelong soulmates: obsessed with fate, and to some degree with themselves, they have an eye for the kind of minor details that make for terrific fiction, even when they are supposedly recording facts. For a time after this meeting, they were lovers, until Boullier eventually sent her a meandering, self-important breakup email. Calle—in a move that a man so obsessed with signs surely ought to have foreseen—anonymized him as “X” and turned the email into her 2007 entry for the Venice Biennale, Take Care of Yourself, asking women from 107 different professions, from a cruciverbalist to a Talmudic scholar, to interpret his words. If dumping a writer is a risky move, dumping an artist might be more dangerous still: like an invading force, they tend to recruit collaborators.

Philippa Snow, from We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together - Two French authors’ dueling narratives of heartbreak, for Bookforum, Spring 2024.