#livre rec

[narriaa]

Hm, et donc... j'ai écrit un livre ? :3

L'Ombre et l'Eclat est une novella queer (protagonistes pans & agenres), fantasy, écrite en inclusif et qui traite notamment de la santé mentale au travers de la dépression. Elle devrait être à votre goût si vous appréciez être plongé·e·s dans des ambiances plutôt sombres, mais surtout toutes en nuances et en contrastes. Nécromancie et monstres mystérieux seront au rendez-vous, et pour découvrir les premières pages c'est par ici !

Que le livre vous intéresse ou non, je vous conseille de jeter un oeil au catalogue de l'éditeur !

YBY Éditions pour but de représenter la diversité dans la fiction. Tous ses ouvrages comportent au minimum un·e protag' LGBTQ+, et mettent en avant les personnes racisées, neurodivergentes, handicapées... De nombreux écrits sont own voice et ceux qui ne le sont pas sont relus et corrigés par des personnes concernées par les sujets évoqués.

[rapha-reads]

Bonjour la France de Tumblr ! Aimes-tu la science-fiction ? Aimes-tu les space opera ?

Je me permets de faire un peu de promo pour le premier roman que mon frère vient d'auto-publier sur Amazon (oui, oui, boooo Jeff, mais n'empêche, on fait ce qu'on peut).

https://www.reddit.com/r/FranceDetendue/comments/1939xvi/instant_autopromo_jai_publi%C3%A9_un_bouquin_de/

Ses propres mots :

"Bon, allez, je me permets, petit instant auto-promo. Il y'a deux/trois ans, j'ai écrit un bouquin de science-fiction... première fois depuis mes 20 ans (au moins) que j'arrivais à mener un projet à son terme, à ne pas l'avorter en cours de route pour passer à un autre projet que j'abandonnerai inévitablement. Je l'ai envoyé à des éditeurs et j'ai reçu trois réponses très encourageantes me disant (je paraphrase) : "c'est pas mal, hein, mais il y'a plusieurs petits trucs qu'il faudrait corriger avant qu'on puisse l'accepter. Mais il manque pas grand chose, et voilà des pistes de réflexion sur ce qui pourrait être amélioré." Bon... malheureusement, j'en ai pas trouvé la motivation et je suis passé à autre chose depuis. Mais j'avais envie de lui donner une seconde-vie à ce bouquin... j'ai donc décidé de le publier sur Kindle (merci Jeff de permettre à tout le monde de s'autopublier en deux clics, maintenant va payer tes impôts et essaie de faire quelque chose de bien pour l'humanité avec toute ta fortune bordel de merde). So without further ado, si vous avez envie de lire de la bonne grosse SF à base d'exploration de nouveaux mondes, d'anciennes civilisations ou encore de collisions culturelles, voilà voilà :

Oui la couverture est ultra-cheesy (mais je l'aime bien), oui ça mériterait que je taille dans le gras, oui ce n'est pas encore mon chef d'oeuvre... mais je suis quand même super fier de ce que j'ai fait et j'avais envie de le partager. Et si vous avez un compte Amazon, il est gratuit pendant encore une semaine ! Merci et bonne lecture si jamais y'en a parmi vous qui décident de plonger dedans. :)"

Et en prime la couverture :

N'hésitez pas à lui lâcher un petit mot sur son Reddit si vous téléchargez le bouquin, ça lui fera plaisir !

[oldtvandcomics]

Happy Queer Media Monday!

Today: Nous Sommes la Poussière by Plume D. Serves

I found a book.

[Nous Sommes la Poussière as seen in the queer bookshop in Paris, with the shop's recommendation still attached]

Nous Sommes la Poussière is a French novel written by LGBT+ and autistic activist Plume D. Serves. It is a magic realism story about people affected by a disabling condition that causes electric dust to gather around them. As a form of “treatment”, they are made to wear special chains with a magnet that absorbs the dust before it can become a visible cloud, which end up doing more harm than good. The main character, Elias, is one of these people. (She is also a lesbian.) The book follows her from the moment that she really started to feel disabled over years of struggle with both her disability and her fight for social acceptance, until the activist group succeeds in repelling the very restrictive law forcing them to wear the chains. While doing so, it touches on many aspects of life with an invisible disability.

I feel like I’ve never seen my exact life experience as a disabled person this well reflected in any story. Plume D. Serves doesn’t shy away from the complexities and the nuances of being disabled and of the disabled community, or the way it intersects with other marginalized identities. I also appreciated how the thing that brings change in this book is relentless, determined community organizing.

Nous Sommes la Poussière is written in French by a French author, and has not yet been translated to any other languages.

I have done a review about it in French, if that is a version you’d prefer. Also, here is Plume D. Serves’ webpage.

Queer Media Monday is an action I started to talk about some important and/or interesting parts of our queer heritage, that people, especially young people who are only just beginning to discover the wealth of stories out there, should be aware of. Please feel free to join in on the fun and make your own posts about things you personally find important!

[frenchlitclub]

i really want to read toxoplasma by sabrina calvo!

Oooh, I just read what it's about and this sounds awesome to me 👀

This makes me wonder if we should have 2 books a month for the club, 1 in the public domain, and 1 not, so more recent. So that everyone could have access to at least one book but still give room for more recent stories...

[emiliemaria]

.

[yuli-patchouli]

Give yourself a sweet treat this Valentine’s Day with this amazing combo of art AND fic! Found family! Shared food! Silly traditions and feelings and everyone coming together to celebrate what’s most important.

Valentine by @flawlessassholes

“Andy wanted chocolate,” Quỳnh says by way of greeting. “But I don’t understand. Is there a difference between the red chocolate and the regular kind? Where did the regular kind go?”

Nile’s used to the way red and pink overtake stores immediately following Christmas, but this is the first time since she became immortal—since Quỳnh rejoined them—that they’ve been in North America.

Which means that this is Quỳnh’s first experience with a Hallmark Valentine’s Day. Or maybe even Valentine’s Day in general.

The team gets really into celebrating Valentine's Day. Nile is less than enthused until she gets a sweet surprise.

Created for @yusufs-stew-of-romance and @yuliares for the CSH Winter Exchange! I hope y’all enjoy and happy Valentine’s Day! 💘💝

[luvyoonsvt]

soothe me till dawn

hong joshua x leitora

era certo que qualquer tempo que joshua passasse ao seu lado o deixaria tranquilo e feliz. mesmo que sua cabeça estivesse repleta de preocupações, um pouco de carinho e uma distração extra eram o ideal para acalmar sua mente estressada.

gênero: fluff + smut

pt-br

conteúdo: smut, leitora fem, joshua é um namorado adorável que precisa de ajuda pra desestressar.

avisos: conteúdo para maiores de 18 anos após o corte. menores, por favor, não interajam. smut (breast/nipple play, dedilhado, oral fem. rec., handjob, sexo desprotegido, menção a penetração mas muito menos descritivo que todo o resto, eu acho, meio que cuidados posteriores e, mais uma vez, sintam-se livres pra avisar caso eu tenha me esquecido de algo); palavrões e etc; uso de apelidos carinhosos (meu amor, meu bem, bebê, princesa, shua)

contagem: ± 2200 palavras

notas: olaaa! mais uma vez apareço com algo que surgiu de um pedido e, dessa vez, com o debut do joshua aqui. de novo, desculpa o atraso na ask. enfim, acho que não divaguei muito? ou será que sim? não consigo escrever sem me empolgar e vou indo até conseguir chegar a uma conclusão. não sei se ficou realmente legal, mas espero que possam gostar desse também <3 boa leitura e desculpem os possíveis erros!

suas amizades e seus familiares suspeitavam que você mentia sobre seu relacionamento. era difícil pra eles acreditarem que tudo fluía tão tranquilamente. como você nunca aparecia com uma lista de frustrações? parecia bom demais para ser verdade.

você mesma já temeu ficar presa em uma relação que causasse alguma mágoa. porém o destino, universo ou sabe-se lá o quê, fez questão de pôr joshua hong em sua vida.

o homem que era a personificação de gentileza e cuidado. atencioso o bastante para que mal desse tempo de você sentir saudade. carinhoso e compreensivo a ponto de se tornar a pessoa para qual você corria quando tudo parecia cinza e triste, sendo aquele conforto e alegria que extinguiam tudo de ruim ao redor.

joshua passou por um não muito curto processo de se abrir para você, e fazer com que você o permitisse se aproximar também. vagarosamente saindo de um colega de trabalho, a um amigo precioso, até chamá-la para o primeiro encontro e te fazer se sentir no seu próprio conto de fadas desde então.

dentre as qualidades de shua, você quase ficava tonta com o quão dedicado a vocês ele era, mesmo que a rotina estivesse sugando toda a disposição dele — coisa que você poderia ver de perto, já que ainda estavam na mesma empresa, mesmo que em setores diferentes. às vezes ele até tentava esconder o cansaço ou incômodo, porém joshua aprendeu que você descobre as coisas com muita facilidade quando se trata dele.

você jamais cobraria muito dele quando sabia o quão exausto seu namorado estava. contudo, às vezes, dar um jeito de estar com joshua era a solução para que ele pudesse se permitir relaxar e descansar. você era a pessoa que o confortava na mesma medida que ele fazia por ti, que também o assegurava que tá tudo bem cometer pequenos erros, lembrando-o que se cobrar em excesso não era o caminho certo, como ele te ensinou.

e, após uma semana de trabalho, mais uma vez foi preciso que vocês tivessem esse tempo para estar um com o outro.

depois do jantar, era comum que assistissem a algum filme curtinho, episódio de uma nova série que você descobriu, ou até uma partida de basquete quando um time que joshua acompanhava estivesse jogando. naquela noite, o período que passaram enrolados um ao outro no sofá foi com um comédia romântica que o catálogo de streaming sugeriu.

entre as risadas ocasionais e comentários sobre a trama, shua virava pra você por alguns segundos, até que o você o olhasse de volta, somente pra sussurrar um elogio e selar os lábios nos seus. mesmo depois de um bom tempo, joshua conseguia a mesma reação adorável de você, o que motivava ele a nunca parar de fazer coisas como aquela.

só que um beijo do seu namorado levava a mais outro e, consequentemente, à mão boba de joshua partindo de um roçar bem levinho dos dedos na coxa, subindo até estar tocando cada centímetro de pele debaixo da sua blusa. para que, na maior cara de pau possível, ele se afastasse com aquele sorriso fofo e falasse que "essa parte do filme é boa, você tem que ver". joshua tinha muitos pontos fortes, e te provocar até não poder mais era um deles.

contudo, ele se acalmava à medida que o sono chegava. te chamando com os olhinhos cansados pra ir deitar, diminuindo o espaço entre vocês o quanto podia enquanto se ajeitavam.

joshua gostava de te pôr nos braços dele, conversar e rir até que apagassem. mas duvidou que conseguisse sequer descansar enquanto sua mente estivesse tão sobrecarregada.

ter você com ele significava ser capaz de se sentir seguro durante os momentos de vulnerabilidade, por mais bobas que fossem as motivações pra isso. joshua tinha plena certeza que você o escutaria atentamente.

após ouvi-lo narrar, cabisbaixo, sobre como a organização do próximo evento da empresa estava causando problemas, você soube que aquela vozinha no fundo da cabeça dele queria se sobrepor à tentativa de joshua de permanecer tranquilo em meio à situação possivelmente caótica.

— shua, você tem uma ótima equipe. sentar com eles e conversar também vai te ajudar a encontrar uma solução — ele virou o rosto pra te olhar, dando aquele sorriso contido que o deixava parecendo um pãozinho.

joshua estava deitado agarrado em você há bons minutos, tendo encontrado aquela posição perfeita em que podia ouvir seu coração, abraçar sua cintura e receber o melhor cafuné do mundo.

— você se preocupou por eu estar me adiantando, mas acabou sendo bom ver isso agora. agora tenho tempo de arranjar outro lugar.

joshua sabia que era algo fora de seu controle, até mesmo dos responsáveis pelo local. porém ter que realocar e modificar muito do que foi planejado estava começando a deixá-lo preocupado, felizmente adiantar uma tarefa ou outra o fez dar atenção a isso antes que chegassem perto demais da data decidida.

— não queria que se sobrecarregasse antes do tempo, amor.

— a ideia é que eu resolva as piores partes antes pra me estressar menos depois, bebê.

— eu sei, mas você vai deixar isso pra segunda-feira. nada de olhar nem mesmo os endereços que eu te mandei, ok?

— mas é tão difícil não pensar nisso — ah, ali estava.

quando joshua finalmente permitia que sua mente se desvinculasse de todas as questões profissionais, o primeiro sinal era aquele tom de voz meio dengoso.

— não é tão difícil assim — você não perdia tempo em ir no mesmo caminho que ele, focando apenas no olhar que prendia toda a sua atenção.

ele se ajeitou, saindo da posição que estava e tomando cuidado pra não te machucar nem colocar todo peso do corpo em cima de ti, para dar beijinhos no seu pescoço.

— você já parece bem mais distraído, shua.

— eu to bem focado, na verdade — o sorriso dele foi sentido contra a pele antes que você o visse.

era difícil pra você manter a mente focada, totalmente influenciada pelos toques do seu namorado para se preocupar com qualquer outra coisa senão ajudá-lo a tirar a camisa de você.

até a sensação da brisa gelada foi insignificante quando os lábios de joshua tomaram os seus, a língua já na sua boca e as mãos extinguindo qualquer resquício de frio por onde deslizava, desde o quadril até aos seios. e, apesar de se deliciar com o quão sensível você fica a cada aperto, shua amava te ouvir enquanto segurava os mamilos entre os dentes antes de os chupar e lamber bem lentinho, como se tivessem todo o tempo do mundo. era o único motivo plausível para que ele abandonasse o beijo.

tudo era bastante equilibrado. pois, enquanto seus movimentos vagarosos faziam aqueles suspiros gostosinhos saírem da sua boca, joshua não perdia um segundo pra chegar a sua calcinha, encontrando-a tão encharcada quanto imaginou que estaria.

— tão linda, um pouquinho de atenção e fica toda fodida.

— cala a boca — ele riu com como você o empurrou de volta pros seus peitos, mas entendeu o recado bem rápido, a boca agora mais ávida voltando a sugar a pele macia.

você ofegou quando joshua parou de brincar por cima do tecido fino e quase inútil contra a sua intimidade gotejando, finalmente o afastando pra te sentir como queria. ele gemeu junto com você, nunca se habituando a como seu corpo respondia, mesmo que te tivesse assim sempre.

— eu preciso tanto de você gozando na minha boca, amor — embora você fosse a que estivesse gemendo com a sensação dos dedos dele pressionando contra seu clitóris, joshua era quem parecia mais necessitado.

— você precisa? por favor, acho que eu vou chorar se não ganhar isso agora.

— você vai chorar de qualquer forma, bebê.

e ele estava tão certo. o primeiro toque do músculo quente fez suas coxas tremerem nos ombros de joshua. os dedos que antes apenas separavam suas dobras pra que ele pudesse sugar o nervinho com vontade, circulavam a entrada antes de serem, um a um, enterrados ali. contudo, foi preciso choramingar e chamar por shua com os olhinhos suplicantes para que o segundo dedo te enchesse. ele te deu o que você queria, como sempre, incapaz de resistir aos seus pedidos.

porém ele parecia muito mais interessado em sentir seu gosto, te empurrando cada vez mais ao ápice. quanto mais joshua sentia que você estava perto, mais intenso ele se tornava, lambendo e chupando mesmo depois que você já estivesse gozando na boca dele, com as costas arqueadas e as mãos entrelaçadas nos fios macios de shua.

não querendo te sobrecarregar quando ainda não tinham terminado, joshua beijou de suas coxas até voltar à sua boca. oposto a como seu namorado devorou você antes, o selar foi quase um acalento suave. o que denunciava a luxúria da coisa era o seu próprio gosto invadindo seu paladar e o membro rígido de joshua, pressionado contra sua buceta através do tecido da calça dele.

— shua, deixa eu- — ele sabia o que aquilo significava, mas, naquele momento, tudo que joshua queria era dar prazer a você.

— que tal você me deixar te encher com os meus dedos que nem você pediu, hein?

— mas eu também quero cuidar de você — seu dedo deslizou pelo cós a calça antes de pressionar a palma da mão por cima do tecido, sem tirar os olhos dos dele.

mais tarde shua provavelmente brincaria sobre como você fez aquela carinha pedindo por pica, porém agora ele precisava tirar aquela ideia da sua cabeça. joshua não te diria, mas um dos métodos dele para te distrair era tirar a camisa bem devagarzinho, só para que seu olhar ficasse preso a ele. e, te vendo quase salivando debaixo dele, lambendo os lábios enquanto se desfazia da peça, sentiu que havia dado certo.

— me ajuda a tirar a calça, meu bem? — você acenou ansiosa, conseguindo um sorrisinho de shua.

assim que chutou a roupa pra longe de si, ele colocou o corpo ao seu novamente. joshua guiou uma de suas mãos até que você sentisse o peso familiar do pau dele contra ela, vazando à medida que deslizava da base à ponta. seu namorado não continha qualquer som, gemendo no seu pescoço enquanto empurrava o quadril em direção ao seu toque.

embora a mente de joshua quase ficasse vazia com o quão bem você o fazia se sentir. ele fez como prometeu, esfregando os dedos no clitóris inchado antes de colocá-los em você.

um após o outro, até que três estivessem entrando e saindo, alcançando repetidas vezes o mesmo lugar que joshua sabia que te levaria ao segundo orgasmo. te abrindo do jeitinho que você tanto gostava e gemendo contra a sua boca, seu namorado não estava tão diferente de você. o pau pulsava, pingando na sua mão. a fricção perfeita deixava a visão de joshua turva, pedindo pra que você chegasse lá junto com ele, os dedos acelerando até que seus olhos revirassem e os corpos finalmente cedessem aos múltiplos estímulos.

apesar de grudentos, joshua sorria deitado em você, levantando o olhar apenas pra ver a mesma feição extasiada que a dele.

— tá bem?

— ah, sim, claro. gozei na sua boca, nos seus dedos, to ótima — ele riu, dando beijinho no seu colo exposto.

— que bom, amo quando você tá ótima assim.

— e você não pensa que eu não sei que você me distraiu sendo todo exibido, tá? — joshua te encarou com aquele olhar de "ops, fui pego".

— se eu te levar pra tomar banho comigo, você me perdoa?

você estava de pé assim que ele completou a frase, olhando-o da beirada da cama com a mão estendida para que fossem juntos.

o banho foi uma desculpa mais do que suficiente, já que seu namorado não era ótimo só em ensaboar suas costas como em te colocar contra a parede e te segurar firme enquanto você somente se perdesse no quão fundo o pau dele conseguia chegar naquela posição.

como bônus, foi joshua quem limpou toda a bagunça que fizeram, te ajudando também a se vestir. ele te levou para se sentar na ponta da cama, secando seu cabelo com todo o cuidado que só o seu joshua poderia ter contigo.

— prefiro garantir que você não corra risco nenhum de ficar doente, meu amor — ele disse, averiguando cada mecha antes de beijar o topo da sua cabeça e deixar o secador em seu devido lugar. — prontinha pra dormir, vamos?

— já disse que eu te amo? — se você não dissesse, joshua descobriria pelos seus olhinhos apaixonados, não tinha a menor dúvida.

— eu acho que te amo um pouquinho mais.

— shua, não é hora de começar a competir sobre isso — ele não respondeu de primeira, mais focado em se acomodar contra os travesseiros e te puxar pra deitar sobre ele dessa vez.

— eu sei, mas ganharia de qualquer forma.

ainda que entendesse o quão recíprocos seus sentimentos eram, brincar sobre isso abria inúmeras brechas para joshua demonstrar mais ainda a extensão do amor que ele tinha pra dar a você.

— vai dormir, joshua hong — seu namorado riu da pequena frustração que causou em ti, sentindo aquele calorzinho familiar no peito enquanto te abraçava.

se você questionasse joshua sobre o que quer que o estava perturbando mais cedo, ele nem se lembraria. sua mente tão leve, quase esvoaçante — cujos únicos pensamentos eram sobre você —, apagou lentamente no sono tranquilo que era capaz de ter somente ao seu lado.

[allmoshnobrain]

NO-SKIP ALBUMS tag game

i was tagged by @nornsfate (tysm!!) and this seemed like such a fun idea i just had to do it! i tried picking albums that i felt had a big impact in my life and that i love listening to until today. i'm tagging @aplaceforyourhearttorest @hunter-sylvester @therockywhorerpictureshow and anyone who wants to do it (but ofc no pressure!)

rules: share the albums that you can listen to nonstop. those lightning in a bottle-albums that scratch ur brain just right. every single track, an absolute banger. u could not skip one if u tried. no notes. stunning, show-stopping, immaculate. ur no-skip albums.

bonus & optional rules: 1) add a track rec for us to listen to! AND 2) share ur favorite line(s) from that track!

albums and track recs:

MEGADETH - RUST IN PEACE

tornado of souls: Selective amnesia's the story / Believed foretold, but who'd suspect? / The military intelligence / Two words combined that can't make sense

VENOM - BLACK METAL

black metal: Lay down your souls to the gods rock 'n roll / Metal ten fold through the deadly black hole / Riding hell's stallions bareback and free / Taking our chances with raw energy

METALLICA - RIDE THE LIGHTNING

for whom the bell tolls: Take a look to the sky just before you die / It's the last time you will / Blackened roar, massive roar fills the crumbling sky / Shattered goal fills his soul with a ruthless cry

AVENGED SEVENFOLD - AVENGED SEVENFOLD

unbound (the wild ride): This ride that takes me through life / Leads me into darkness but emerges into light / No one can ever slow me down / I'll stay unbound

GHOST - IMPERA

darkness at the heart of my love: Will you spill the wine / To summon the divine? / I'm with you always, always / Now paint a pair of eyes / And let's watch as it dries / Remember always, that love is all you need / Tell me who you wanna be / And I will set you free

THE RED JUMPSUIT APPARATUS - DON'T YOU FAKE IT

cat and mouse: Am I supposed to be happy? / With all I ever wanted, it comes with a price

MEGADETH - THE SYSTEM HAS FAILED

the scorpion: As I climb onto your back, I will promise not to sting / I will tell you what you want hear, and not mean anything / Then I treat you like a dog as I shoot my venom in / You pretend you didn't know that I am a scorpion

TURISAS - STAND UP AND FIGHT

the march of the varangian guard: Guards of glory and of might / Red as blood and black as night / Flies our banner as we march / In the East, for the king of the Greek

LANA DEL REY - NORMAN FUCKING ROCKWELL

happiness is a butterfly: I said, "Don't be a jerk, don't call me a taxi" / Sitting in your sweatshirt, crying in the backseat / I just wanna dance with you

HOLE - NOBODY'S DAUGHTER

nobody's daughter: Nobody's daughter, she never was, she never will / Be beholden to anyone she cannot kill / You don't understand how damaged we really are / You don't understand how evil we really are

ANGRA - REBIRTH

rebirth: Ride the wind of a brand new day / High where mountains stand / Found my hope and pride again / Rebirth of a man

FLICTS - SINGELOS CONFRONTOS

desmascarar sua bandeira: Foda-se a bandeira do estado de São Paulo / Foda-se a bandeira e o hino nacional / Fascismo enrustido sob as cores do estandarte / Velando o ódio ao livre amar e a diversidade (english translation for my mutuals - guess which state i was born and raised in lol: Fuck the flag of the state of São Paulo / Fuck the flag and the national anthem / Closeted fascism under the colors of the banner / Veiling hate for free love and diversity)

MARINA AND THE DIAMONDS - ELECTRA HEART

teen idle: Yeah, I wish I'd been, I wish I'd been, a teen, teen idle / Wish I'd been a prom queen, fighting for the title / Instead of being sixteen and burning up a bible / Feeling super, super, super suicidal

MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE - THE BLACK PARADE

famous last words: I am not afraid to keep on living / I am not afraid to walk this world alone / Honey, if you stay, I'll be forgiven / Nothing you can say can stop me going home

MODERN BASEBALL - YOU'RE GONNA MISS IT ALL

your graduation: You weren't the only one / Who thought of us that way / I spend most nights awake / Wide awake / I never thought that I / Oh, I would see the day / Where I'd just let you go / Let you walk away / Where I'd let you walk away

[beatrice-otter]

Sedoretu Exchange recs

I have finally, over a month after the collection was revealed, had both the time AND the brain space to read through the entire collection. If it weren't sedoretuex, I would probably have given up, but there aren't that many sedoretu fic out there so I wanted to savor what was just written.

First, I received an amazing DS9 fic by violet_pencil that does SUCH interesting worldbuilding.

Bread and Roses (19535 words) by violet_pencil Fandom: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Kira Nerys/Miles O'Brien, Keiko O'Brien & Miles O'Brien, Bareil Antos & Kira Nerys, Bareil Antos/Keiko O'Brien, Bareil Antos/Kira Nerys/Keiko O'Brien/Miles O'Brien, Kira Nerys/Keiko O'Brien/Miles O'Brien Additional Tags: Episode: s01e01-02 Emissary, Bajoran Culture (Star Trek), Canon Rewrite, Episode: s01e13 Battle Lines (Star Trek: Deep Space Nine), Episode: s01e20 In the Hands of the Prophets, Culture Shock, POV Kira Nerys, Season/Series 01, Kira Nerys has PTSD, Alien Cultural Differences, Worldbuilding, Marriage, Alternate Universe - Sedoretu Marriage Series: Part 2 of violet's star trek fusions & crossovers Summary:

"Marriage is the greatest adventure of them all. It's filled with pitfalls and setbacks and mistakes, but it's a journey worth taking." — Miles O'Brien, "Armageddon Game"

Hearts starve as well as bodies: Give us Bread, but give us Roses. — James Oppenheim, "Bread and Roses"

Other fics I loved:

Any Four Walls (11952 words) by tielan Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Pepper Potts & Steve Rogers, Maria Hill/Steve Rogers, Maria Hill/Pepper Potts, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Maria Hill & Tony Stark, Maria Hill/Pepper Potts/Steve Rogers/Tony Stark Additional Tags: Sedoretu, Developing Relationship, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-ish Summary:

“I thought we should probably have a discussion,” Tony says blithely. “About futures and pasts and all that.” As always, tielan does an amazing job of handling the characters with insight and grace.  

A Kryptonian Marriage (2493 words) by Chromatographic Fandom: DCU (Comics) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Clark Kent/Selina Kyle/Lois Lane/Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent/Lois Lane Characters: Lois Lane, Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne, Selina Kyle Additional Tags: Sedoretu, Pre-Relationship, but it's gonna happen, Lois Lane-centric, on screen Clark/Lois, Kryptonian World Building, For funsies, Krypton had moieties, and sedoretus, but Earth does not, Timeline What Timeline Summary:

Lois loves Clark - all of Clark, and she'll show it to him in every way that she can.

Or: Earth doesn't have moieties, and sedoretus - but Krypton did.

Interesting worldbuilding, and I love Lois' care for Clark and his culture

Four, for Four Decades (9624 words) by blueyeti Fandom: James Bond (Craig Movies), The Old Guard (Movie 2020) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: James Bond/M | Olivia Mansfield, Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Booker | Sebastien le Livre, Andy | Andromache of Scythia/James Bond/Booker | Sebastien le Livre/M | Olivia Mansfield Characters: M | Olivia Mansfield, James Bond, Andy | Andromache of Scythia, Booker | Sebastien le Livre Additional Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical Behavior, Sedoretu, Sedoretu politics, Historical, Immortality, Immortal James Bond, Worldbuilding Series: Part 1 of Bond & The Old Guard Sedoretu Summary:

In November, 1950, James Bond died on M's orders. He came back.

Great explanation for why James Bond has kept going on for so long ...

[jo-harrington]

WHEEEEEELLLLSSSSSSSSSSSS. GOD DAMN IT. MAKING ME FEEL HUMAN FEELINGS. NOBODY MAKES ME BLEED MY OWN BLOOD. NOBODY.

You better make sure they make it off that boat so help me god. If their happily ever after is as ghosts I’m coming to find you. (Ahem but I’m excited to see how you write the action-packed sinking.)

Live A Little | A Worth It AU | Ralph Penbury x You | Masterlist

In This Edition: You have a realization and make things right! Words: 3.5k

"Looks like someone had a late one."

You roll over to face the wall without opening your eyes. You're in no mood for your aunt's teasing. You haven't been asleep long enough to have forgotten why you feel so miserable. You've thought of nothing but Ralph all night long. You're still in yesterday's clothes, which Ralph helped you back into. You haven't even bothered to wash off your makeup, which has surely been smudged after hours in Ralph's bed and a full night of crying.

Everything goes back to Ralph.

Except for you.

He thinks you betrayed him. And he has good reason to. His sister has been playing these twisted games with him all their lives. You'd followed her around and fooled yourself into thinking she might be a friend... briefly. But why should he believe that you were any different than every other girl who'd used him to win some stupid prize?

A choked sob escapes from your throat.

"What did he do?" your aunt accuses, all traces of humor gone from her voice.

"Nothing," you croak.

"Then what did you do?"

You turn your face into your pillow and let your tears soak it. You feel her sit down on the side of your bed.

"I'm not leaving you alone until you tell me what happened."

You breathe out a shuddering breath and speak to the wall.

"On the night I met Victoria, she made a game. She had a bunch of girls compete for Ralph's affection. There were winners and losers and I sat there with her and watched it happen. Because I thought he was enjoying it, and nobody would get hurt. And then it went too far, and I told him about it, and the game was over."

"That's why everyone was giving you the ol' stink-eye," your aunt surmises.

You nod.

"And then I ran into him the next day in the library. We had the same idea; get a book and hide from them. But we started talking, and we started walking, and we never even cracked open our books. And then we met again the next day, and had a wonderful time, and… and last night, we ran into Victoria. She brought up the game. He thinks I was…" You can't bring yourself to continue.

"He thinks you were playing him like all those other girls did."

You answer with a sob.

"You really like him, huh?"

You nod your head, unable to speak.

"Do you love him?"

Of course you do. He's the most beautiful person you've ever met, inside and out. He's kind, he's funny, and he's intelligent. Simply being in his presence makes your world feel a little brighter.

But Ralph Penbury's heart has been toyed with time and again. Why should he believe that you were any different than the girls who'd tell him they loved him or take him to bed for a piece of jewelry or a chance to be in his sister's entourage for a day? How was he to know that your feelings were real?

You bury your face in your pillow to hide a fresh wave of sobs.

"That's what I thought. Does he know that?"

"No," you choke out.

"So why are you lying here in a puddle of your own tears instead of finding him and telling him?"

"Why should he listen to anything I have to say? He thinks I'm one of them," you wail.

"Because I saw the way he looked at you during dinner. And unless that boy is falling in love with every girl who gives him the time of day, he's probably in the same position you are right now: Face down and in danger of drowning."

You stop crying abruptly.

"Get up, get dressed, and go talk to that boy," she orders.

You rise and redress as quickly as you can.

"If I don't see you 'til morning, I'll understand!" she smirks as she pushes you out the cabin door.

You arrive quicker than you expected. You peek cautiously into the hallway where his room is before you enter, praying that Victoria isn't in it. Clear. You approach his door and knock.

"Ralph?" you call quietly, not wanting to disturb anyone else at this early hour. (Or let Victoria know you were here.) "Would you please open up and talk to me? I can explain."

No answer. You put your ear to the door and listen for movement. Nothing. Perhaps he's already gone down for breakfast? What if he never came back to his room? Should you go look for him?

"Ralph?" You knock again. "Please?"

After another moment of silence, you sigh and retreat. A few doors down, a steward comes out with a pair of shoes in need of shining. It gives you an idea.

"Excuse me," you smile.

"Yes, miss?"

"Mr. Ralph Penbury dropped this last night," you pull out your handkerchief, "and I wanted to return it, but I'm not quite sure which room is his. Would you be a dear and see that it gets back to him?"

"Of course, miss," the steward smiles, reaching for the handkerchief with his free hand.

"Thank you so much!" You walk in the opposite direction and turn the corner, then whirl around to peek out like you had upon arrival. The steward knocks on Ralph's door and announces himself. It opens. He's in there. The steward presents Ralph with the handkerchief, which Ralph refuses, because it's not his. The steward apologizes and leaves confused.

"Oh my goodness," you say, rounding the corner again. "I believe I've given you the wrong one. I've left the gentleman's handkerchief in my stateroom, this one's mine."

"Oh." The steward returns the square to you.

"So sorry for troubling you," you smile. "I'll get his to him later."

"No trouble at all, miss," he says, an odd smile on his face. Probably attributing this exchange to silly women-folk and their tiny brains.

When the steward disappears from sight, you return to Ralph's door and knock again.

"Ralph? I know you're in there, and I know you don't want to see me. So I'll explain from here." You take a deep breath and survey the hallway, making sure you're still alone. "I spent time with you because I wanted to. Not because of your sister or one of her stupid games. Just because of you. I adore you, Ralph Penbury. You are the sweetest, most wonderful person I've ever met. And it breaks my heart that you think I had an ulterior motive."

You rest your head against the door.

"I'm sorry that I didn't tell you that I was engaged." You close your eyes. "I can't marry him, Ralph. I won't. Not after you." Tears begin streaming down your face again, ruining your freshly applied makeup. "Ralph, you made me feel things I didn't know were possible. I thought I was cold and hollow inside. But you… you made me feel so warm. You made me feel alive. I can't go home and marry someone I'll never love and live a life I don't want to live. I need more. And I didn't know there was more until I met you."

You knock your forehead on the door to end your rambling.

"What I'm trying to say is that I love you, Ralph."

Silence.

You step back from the door, hoping it'll open. But it doesn't. The damage is done. He'll never believe another word you say. You heave a sigh and address the door one last time.

"I hope you find someone who deserves you, Ralph. Because you are truly wonderful. Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise."

You wipe your eyes with the handkerchief that had been passed around and turn to leave.

You make it three steps before a "Wait!" stops you in your tracks.

You slowly turn. Ralph is standing in the doorway, still in his rumpled clothes from yesterday, eyes teary and nose red.

"Do you mean it?"

"Every word," you breathe.

Ralph bounds toward you and crushes you in a hug. You squeeze your eyes shut and hug him back with everything you've got, never wanting to let him go again.

Eventually, Victoria's voice carries through the walls, announcing that she's awake. Ralph backs into his room without letting you go, and you grin as you shuffle inside pressed against him. You kick the door shut.

When his grip loosens, you look up.

"Missed you," you say.

"It's been a very hard…" Ralph scrunches his face in concentration. "Eight hours?"

"Indeed it has," you agree with a laugh, reaching up to wipe your eyes.

He sits on the edge of the bed, holding out his hands for you to take. You step closer and clasp them in yours.

"Is there… is there anything else I should know about you?" he asks bashfully.

"Ralph, ask me anything, and I'll tell you. I don't want any secrets between us."

"What's he like?"

"What's who like?" you ask in confusion.

"Your fiancé."

You laugh in surprise.

"Why do you want to know about him?"

Ralph's big brown eyes drift to the floor.

"I want to know what he did wrong," he says quietly. "Why you don't want him."

"Ralph…" You sit on the bed next to him. "It's not that he did one specific thing wrong. It's that he was wrong for me."

"How did you know?"

You think about it for a moment; sure, Donald did a lot of things that annoyed you. He chewed too loud, always ordered the exact same thing at the exact same restaurant, and insisted on calling your family's maid "girl" after years of being reminded that her name was Nancy. He was too serious, difficult to engage in conversation, and unbelievably boring. But even with all these minor annoyances, he'd never really made you feel anything at all. You smile when you find your answer.

"I didn't know he was wrong… until I found someone who was right."

Ralph's face brightens slowly while this sinks in. Soon, his worried frown turns into a grin that crinkles his eyes. You can't help yourself. You have to lean over and kiss him.

An hour later, you lie on your side in just your chemise, staring into those beautiful but sleepy eyes of his.

"What are you thinking about?" you ask.

"You," he breathes.

"Good thoughts?" you ask.

"That's all I have when it comes to you."

You lean in for a kiss, grateful to be with him again.

"Did you get any sleep last night?" you ask, reaching out to stroke his hair when he settles back on his pillow.

"No," he mumbles. "Did you?"

"No."

"Maybe we nap for an hour?" he asks, eyelids getting heavier by the second. You keep stroking his hair until he falls asleep, then allow yourself to slip into dreamland as well.

When you open your eyes again, Ralph is staring at you.

"Sorry," he says nervously. "I didn't mean to-- I wasn't watching--"

"Shhh," you whisper, scooting closer to him and snuggling into his chest. His apologies stop, and he nuzzles his cheek into your hair.

"Did you sleep well?" you ask, muffled by his chest.

"I did," he answers. "Did you?"

"Mhm," you hum. "Have you been awake long?"

"Not very," he says. His stomach rumbles.

"Perhaps we should get dressed and see if they're still serving breakfast," you suggest, giving his belly a rub.

"Actually… we slept through lunch."

You raise your head and look at him in surprise.

"We did?"

"It's nearly three."

You stare at each other for a moment, and then burst out laughing.

"We can go to the restaurant on B-Deck. I think I shall perish if I have to wait for the dining saloon to open up," he says dramatically.

"Then let's hurry, I can't have my Ralph wasting away to nothing," you declare, crawling out of bed and surveying the pile of clothes in the floor. "Would you kindly help me back into that dress you nearly tore off me this morning?"

"Certainly, darling," Ralph says, holding up your knickers by two fingers and giving you a mischievous look.

You snatch them away with a playful glare and dress as quickly as you can. The process would've gone a lot faster, had Ralph not kissed his way up your back where he was supposed to be buttoning, but you thought it best not to complain.

Finally, you set out from Ralph's room toward the restaurant. You're seated quickly at a table for two, where Ralph proceeds to order a ridiculous amount of food for you to share.

You raise an eyebrow when the waiter leaves.

"I'm hungry," he shrugs. "Oh, did we forget something? Did you want something else? We can call him back!"

You decline with a laugh and discuss the décor while you wait for your food to arrive. It's much more intimate than the massive dining hall, where everyone is served at once. The restaurant is nearly empty, given that it's an odd time of day to be eating. You don't mind a bit.

Conversation ceases when the food arrives, and you realize how ravenous you are. You and Ralph tear into your meals, having missed several now, and don't stop until you've sampled everything.

"Would it be unreasonable of me to suggest another nap?" Ralph asks, stifling a yawn as you exit the restaurant.

"Not at all," you smile. "As long as I'm allowed to join you."

"Darling, I never want to sleep without you by my side again."

You lean into him and walk back to his room, free yourselves of your clothes once more, and fall back into bed.

"If there's more to life than eating and napping and making love, I don't want to know about it," Ralph mumbles.

You fall asleep with a smile on your face, wondering if any dream could be better than your current reality.

When your eyes open again, you're unable to take them off Ralph's face. You've never seen anyone look so perfect and peaceful. Gone is the downtrodden boy taking orders from his hateful sister. The annoying brother who's always the subject of some mean-spirited game. The means to an end, to be tossed aside when he's no longer useful. You'll die before you let anyone hurt this beautiful boy again.

Ralph begins to stir. He stretches in a way that reminds you of a cat, and greets you with a goofy smile.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks.

"How I never want to get out of this bed," you answer.

"That can be arranged," he smirks, inching closer to you.

"Oh, really?" you ask playfully.

"Just the mattress, or the bed itself? Never mind. If it's bolted down, I'll have someone cut it out."

You chuckle, and Ralph smiles.

"Or…" He bites his lip. "My bed at home is much larger than this. Softer, too. If… if you'd like to come back to London with me."

Your heart melts.

"You don't have to," he quickly adds. "It was just an idea."

You reach out to cup the side of his face, and he quiets.

"Ralph, I'd love to."

"Really?" His whole body seems to be vibrating. You start feeling it too. His excitement is contagious!

"Really," you confirm, grinning just as hard as he is.

He captures your lips in a kiss, and another hour with Ralph is spent between the sheets.

"How long do you plan on staying in the States?" you ask afterward, head resting on his chest.

"I'd like to visit with my uncle for a while," he says, hand drifting up and down your bare back. "And meet your family. Would that be alright?"

"They're a lot to handle," you chuckle. "Are you sure you're ready for that?"

"I'd face anything for you."

"You may reconsider that statement once you meet my mother," you tease.

"I wonder if she'll like me?" he ponders.

"She won't," you say confidently. "But that's alright. I'll like you enough for both of us."

"Why won't she like me?"

"She has her heart set on me marrying Donald the Dull and becoming an obedient little housewife, just like all her friends' daughters. Raise the children, worship the husband, spend all my free time gossiping under the guise of bettering my standing in the community."

"That doesn't sound appealing at all."

"It really doesn't," you agree. You look up at him with pure adoration. "But I didn't have the courage to admit it until I met you. I owe you everything, Ralph. Even if this isn't forever."

Your heart stops when you realize what you've said.

"What do you mean 'if this isn't forever'?"

You feel sick. Now is not the time for this conversation. You just got him back, and now you're losing him again already!

"Can you honestly say that you're ready to spend the rest of your life with a girl you've known for four days?"

Ralph swallows, a pained look on his face. You close your eyes and brace yourself. You offered him an out, and he's going to take it. And he's probably right to. Declaring your everlasting love this early is insane. What were you thinking?

"Only if that girl is you."

You burst into tears. You can't help it. You love him, and the thought of being without him is agonizing. He pulls you to his chest, and you hold him tight and cry in relief.

"I love you," you whisper, as soon as you're able.

"I love you, too," he replies, with a kiss to your forehead.

"Would you marry me one day?" he asks. You look up in surprise. "This is not an official proposal!" he clarifies. "Just… one day. Is that something you'd…?"

"Of course, Ralph."

Another kiss leads to another roll in the sheets. As you lie there afterwards, happily pressed against his side, you see him smile.

You poke a finger into his dimple, and he grins harder.

"What's got you so happy?" you tease.

"I'm just thinking of something that someone told me once," he says.

"Do tell, Mr. Penbury."

"She said that it's different when you're in love."

"She?"

Ralph licks his lips nervously and considers it for a moment.

"The woman who escorted me into manhood."

"The woman who escorted you into manhood?" you question.

"I'm trying to put it gently," he says. "She was… not a lady. Not like you."

"A prostitute?" you guess.

Ralph nods.

"Your first time was with a prostitute?"

"I didn't know it at the time," he admits.

"Victoria?" you ask, fearing the answer.

He nods. You blink back tears.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything, I didn't mean to upset you."

"I'm not upset with you, Ralph," you breathe. "I'm upset for you. Your first time is supposed to be special. Something you'll treasure for a lifetime. And your own sister stole that from you."

"It turned out alright in the end," he assures you. "I learned a lot of valuable lessons under her tutelage."

You kiss his bare shoulder, unable to speak. Ralph clears his throat.

"But she told me that… er, engaging in coitus is different than making love. And she was right. It's so much better when you're in love."

You let his words sink in, and your heart warms.

"Then perhaps we've just experienced a first together," you suggest softly. You'd had no illusions about loving your first. But Ralph was right. Being with him was entirely different.

Ralph turns to face you, so he can kiss you properly.

"And a second," he mumbles, moving to kiss your chin. "And a third," he says, kissing your collarbone.

You laugh and wrap your legs around him, and by the time the sun goes down, you've lost count.

"I feel like I've known you all my life," he whispers a few hours later, when you're both too exhausted for more strenuous activities.

"Imagine if we had," you smile. "Imagine all the luncheons and horrible dates I could have avoided. All the games and torment you could have escaped." You sigh. "Or perhaps, we wouldn't have suffered enough to appreciate what we have now."

"Or perhaps," Ralph says slowly, "we could have been happy together all along."

You lean in to kiss the tip of his nose.

"I guess we'll just have to settle for being happy together for the rest of our lives," you whisper.

"Better late than never, I suppose," Ralph grins, inching closer.

Your lips meet in a sweet kiss.

"I love you," Ralph whispers against your lips.

"I love you too, Ralph."

And then your lips become too busy for words.

[maddiesbookshelves]

Recipe for a perfect wife, by Karma Brown

When Alice Hale leaves a career in publicity to become a writer and follows her husband to the New York suburbs, she is unaccustomed to filling her days alone in a big, empty house. But when she finds a vintage cookbook buried in a box in the old home’s basement, she becomes captivated by the cookbook’s previous owner–1950s housewife Nellie Murdoch. As Alice cooks her way through the past, she realizes that within the cookbook’s pages Nellie left clues about her life–including a mysterious series of unsent letters penned to her mother. Soon Alice learns that while baked Alaska and meatloaf five ways may seem harmless, Nellie’s secrets may have been anything but. When Alice uncovers a more sinister–even dangerous–side to Nellie’s marriage, and has become increasingly dissatisfied with the mounting pressures in her own relationship, she begins to take control of her life and protect herself with a few secrets of her own.

I thought this book was going take the "the house is haunted by the spirit of the 50's housewife" or even the "the house is alive" route because of some elements at the beginning but uh, they end up not mattering at all? So that was weird

It was an interesting read, but I didn't like Alice's character/story nearly as much as Nellie's. I didn't understand some of her actions and decisions, thought some were stupid. The parts I liked best about Alice's chapters were when Nellie was mentioned. I kinda wish it was more like The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo, in the way that Monique wasn't a big part of the story as a whole but she still had her stakes in it. I did like that, when Alice read Nellie's letters, you can tell there was more to what she was writing

Also, Nellie's chapters had my brain playing Paris Paloma's Labour on loop, it really fits the vibes. It also reminded me of the show Why Women Kill (at least the first season), which I loved. So if anyone has recs for similar book, please please please tell me, I'm desperate

French version under the cut

Lorsque Alice Hales quitte sa carrière dans la publicité pour devenir autrice et suivre son mari dans une banlieue pavillonnaire de New York, elle n'est pas habituée à remplir ses journées seule dans une grande maison vide. Mais lorsqu'elle trouve un livre de cuisine vintage enterré dans la cave de la vieille maison, elle est fascinée par la précédente propriétaire du livre, Nellie Murdoch, femme au foyer des années 1950. Tandis qu'Alice explore le passé au fil des recettes, elle réalise que Nellie a laissé entre les pages du livre de cuisine des indices concernant sa vie, dont une série de lettres adressées à sa mère jamais postées. Bientôt, Alice constate que, même si l'omelette norvégienne et le pain de viande peuvent sembler inoffensifs, ce n'était peut-être pas le cas des secrets de Nellie. Alors qu'Alice découvre un aspect plus sombre, voire dangereux, du mariage de Nellie, et qu'elle devient de plus en plus mécontente de la pression croissante dans son propre couple, elle décide de prendre le contrôle de sa vie et à se protéger avec ses propres secrets.

J'ai cru que ce livre allait faire le coup du "la maison est hantée par le fantôme de la femme des années 50" ou encore "la maison est en vie" à cause de certains éléments au début mais euh, au final ils ont aucune importance ? Donc c'était bizarre

C'était une lecture intéressante mais j'ai pas aimé le personnage/l'histoire d'Alice autant que celle de Nellie. J'ai pas compris certaines de ses actions et de ses décisions, j'en ai même trouvé certaines stupides. Les moments que j'ai le plus apprécié dans les chapitres d'Alice étaient ceux où Nellie était mentionnée. J'aurais limité préféré que le livre soit plus comme The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo, dans le sens où Monique n'était pas super importante dans l'histoire mais il y avait quand même des enjeux pour elle. J'ai beaucoup aimé quand Alice lisait les lettres de Nellie, on pouvait sentir qu'elle écrivait pas tout

Aussi, les chapitres de Nellie faisaient tourner la chanson Labour de Paris Paloma en boucle dans mon cerveau, elle collait vraiment bien à l'histoire. Ils me rappelaient aussi la série Why Women Kill (du moins la première saison), que j'ai adorée. Donc si quelqu'un a des recos de livres similaires, siouplait dites moi, je suis désespérée

[oldtvandcomics]

@profiterole-reads: Aaaaaah.... Donc. Quand je dis que je ne lis pas assez en français, alors je veux dire que je n'ai pas lu de livre en français depuis des années.

En film, il y a la Mystère à la Tour Eiffel, que tout le monde parait d'aimer. Puis, je dois VRAIMENT regarder plus de cinéma français, même que les livres. (J'ai vu que tu as dit de ne pas regarder trop de films français non plus, mais si tu aimes les choses queer, Mystère à la Tour Eiffel est vraiment chouette, c'est une histoire détective lesbienne située en 1889. Comme histoire détective, elle est assez médiocre, mais comme film lesbien, on l'adore.)

Puis, l'année dernière, j'ai lu Arsène Lupin, Gentleman-Cambrioleur, de Maurice Leblanc. Pas queer, mais quand-même un classique, et j'ai beaucoup aimé. Je vais essayer de lire un autre livre avec Lupin cet automne.

Littérature classique, il y a Le Roman de Silence que j'ai lu en mars. Il est tellement classique qu'il vient du XIIIᵉ siècle. Par contre, il est queer, c'est une chevalière qui était élevée comme garçon et a quelques aventures.

Sinon, tu as probablement vu le poste avec les livres que j'ai l'intention de lire cet automne. Les quatre premiers sont queer. Pour le reste, je teindrai Tumblr au courant sur mes progrès. (Le Plaisir au Moyen Âge - c'est un livre nonfiction sur le plaisir au Moyen Âge. On l'aime puisque le Moyen Âge est cool, mais si tu n'as pas ce réaction de "SUJET SUPER COOL JE DOIS LE LIRE" en le voyant, alors c'est probablement pas pour toi.)

Je peux par contre te donner des recommandations en anglais, si tu veux?

Salut ! D'habitude, je blogue en anglais, mais je viens tout juste de terminer ce livre en français, et je dois ABSOLUMENT en parler.

Le voilà :

Nous Sommes la Poussière, de Plume D. Serves. Photo prise ici avec la recommandation de Les Mots A La Bouche, la librairie queer à Paris. C'est pas là où je l'ai acheté d'ailleurs, mais dans Le Nuage Vert, librairie fantastique à Paris, car Paris est grande et a des magasins spécialisés comme ça (je viens de la campagne, pour moi, c'est du nouveau). J'avais demandé des livres queer des écrivains français (Les Mots A La Bouche) et des livres des écrivains français qui parlent des minorités, surtout queer ou handicapés (Le Nuage Vert), car je lis presque exclusivement en anglais, et je ne sais pas comment trouver le genre de livre que je cherche en autres langues, bien que je sache qu'ils existent de super choses.

Et ce livre-là, il était TELLEMENT BIEN, je ne peux pas dire.

La madame de Le Nuage Vert me l'a vendu comme science-fiction très léger, mais je trouve que c'est mieux décrit comme du réalisme magique. L'idée est qu'il y a cette condition qui fait matérialiser autour des gens un nuage des particules de poussière électromagnétiques, ce qui évidemment va impacter la qualité de vie. Ce qu'est pire, c'est tous les stigmas sociétaux qui viennent avec. En fait, c'est un handicap et traité comme un. Le personnage principal est une jeune femme diagnostiquée assez tard, qui vécut toutes ces discriminations, et s'engage dans de l'activisme pour les combattre. Elle est aussi lesbienne.

Et ce livre, il parle DE TOUT. Je n'ai jamais vu la monde dans laquelle j'existe représentée comme ça avant.

Il parle des difficultés de recevoir une diagnose, le sentiment de voir ta vie se passer sans toi, les différentes difficultés des gens qui sont diagnostiqués comme adultes vs comme enfants, le privilège de "passer", la discrimination que font face les couples handicapés qui veulent des enfants, les difficultés d'organiser un mouvement activiste, activisme violent vs non-violent, la médecine alternative, les difficultés qu'ont les parents à se faire croire si leur enfant a un handicap invisible, l'intersectionnalité des identités marginalisées et comment la société les criminalise... Je ne balgue pas, je pourrais encore continuer avec les sujet auquel il touche.

C'est super clair que l'écrivaine a des expériences personnelles dans ce milieu (son bio dit qu'elle est militante autiste et queer, et c'est vrai qu'on reconnait la communauté autiste dans celle des magnophiles). Je ne suis pas de tout, mais pas de toute une personne à faire des notes dans un livre, mais ici, j'ai passé toute la lecture à vouloir souligner des passages que OUI, REGARDEZ, C'EST EXACTEMENT COMME CA ! (Évidemment, je ne l'ai pas fait. Je ne prends pas de notes dans des livres.)

Aussi, j'aime bien le style de l'écriture. C'est assez léger comme structure, comme ce sont des chapitres courts interrompues de textes encore plus courts dans la première et deuxième personne, qui donnent voix à l'inventeur des mailles qu'ils forcent les gens à porter et a au moins deux personnes anonymes qui sont aussi en train d'essayer de vivre avec leur handicap (ou bien une personne différente chaque chapitre, ce n'est pas vraiment clair). C'est super, parce que ça aide beaucoup avec l'immersion et donne le sentiment qu'on parle d'une vraie communauté de gens, et aussi, ça permet de temps à se passer entre les chapitres. Donc la narrative est plus une collection de petits moments de la vie d'Elias, au lieu d'une narrative stricte qui progresse de A à B à C et puis c'est fini. C'est un bon choix, que rend le tout beaucoup plus réaliste.

En bref, c'est un super livre que je recommande fort de lire à tout le monde. Surtout si tu es un peu dans ce milieu de l'activisme qui se bat pour les droits de minorités. Ou si tu veux lire un bon livre d'un écrivain français.

[butterfliesareamyth]

Could you please recommend some French speaking YouTubers (I’m trying to learn French)

I'm sorry but I don't really watch french YouTubers (I got YouTube when I was already good at English so I searched for English content first). I only have one YouTubers that I could recommend, because it's the only one I follow, she mostly talks about books and I really like her videos.

I put the link here ⬇️

(you can always ask me to recommend French things, but for everything that is social media and internet i don't really know anything. But I have music, books and series of someone needs recs !)

Thanks for the ask ! I hope this helped a bit !

[ladyniniane]

71 et 133, pour les recs de livre ? :D

Salut et merci pour les questions :)

71) Your favorite LGBTQ+ fiction?

Je mettrai en première place Le prieuré de l'Oranger de Samantha Shannon. L'intrigue est distrayante, les héroïnes sont attachantes et ce livre m'a permis de m'évader à un moment où j'en avais besoin.

Je pense aussi à The Ascendant Series de K. Arsenautl Rivera. J'avais été divertie par l'aspect épique, le monde de fantasy égalitaire porté par des femmes puissantes et les influences japonaises et mongoles. Les couvertures sont superbes en plus.

Un petit mot aussi pour La dame à la louve de Rénée Vivien. Même si toutes les nouvelles du recueil ne correspondent pas à cette catégorie, l'écriture est juste superbe.

Récemment j'ai aimé Valiant Ladies de Melissa Grey et The Valkyrie de Kate Heartfield.

133) A book you came across randomly and fell in love with.

Dans le pavillon rouge de Pauline Chen. J'ai trouvé ce livre par hasard à la bibliothèque quand je vivais à Paris. Je ne connaissais pas du tout le classique de la littérature chinoise dont il s'inspire, mais j'ai été emportée et transportée dans l'histoire.

Book recs ask game

[oceannacaldin]

Le jardin, Paris (Pride rec)

Yo ! J'ai un peu d'énergie et on est en juin donc j'ai envie de faire des mini présentations de livres queer qui existent en français et qui méritent d'être un peu plus connus ou genre, d'être inscrits sur la liste de quelqu'un pour être offert en cadeaux (et qui ne sont pas d'auteurs anglophones).

Donc... Le Jardin, Paris, BD de Gaëlle Geniller

L'histoire se résume très rapidement : nous sommes à Paris en 1924. Rose, 19 ans, enfant d'une tenancière de cabaret veut danser, comme toutes les filles qui vivent autour d'eux, et se lance sur scène.

Plus largement, c'est de la tranche de vie et du coming of age, donc c'est difficile d'en dire plus sans spoiler ! Et puis c'est vraiment une BD à découvrir sans trop d'attentes, donc je n'ai pas envie d'en dire beaucoup plus, à part que c'est adorable. Avec certes assez de cynisme pour que je n'ai pas l'impression d'avoir la version papier-glacé et glamour de l'époque.

Le dessin est très beau, les scènes de danse sont dynamiques, l'intrigue est très organique. C'est une des rares BD où j'ai vraiment eu l'impression que la question de la représentation est traité en évitant la dissonance lié au "ceci est un concept anachronique mais qui existait à l'époque" que je reproche à beaucoup de trucs publiés ces derniers temps (je comprends pourquoi ! Mais ça m'irrite parce que c'est souvent maladroit).

Donc voilà... Si vous voulez une BD sans prétention mais qui fait du bien, ça vaut la peine de l'ouvrir !

[buzzcat]

Fic Rec - build them a home, a little place of their own, by jessikast

**  As this is post-canon fic, it spoils the end of the movie. I would suggest watching the movie before reading this fic, as the movie is better enjoyed if you don’t know how it ends. The tags and my rec for this fic also spoil the movie, so the rest of this is under a read more. Go watch ‘The Old Guard’, then come back.

Fandom: The Old Guard (Movie 2020) Wordcount: 9,061 Tags: Booker-centric, Post-Canon, Dogs, Animal Death, Animal harm referenced, Andy regains immortality, (How? Shhhh.), Reincarnation, Fix-It, Emotional Healing, Animal Therapy, Alternative Epilogue, Team, Forgiveness, Alcohol Abuse, Happy Ending, Redeemed Booker | Sebastien le Livre  Summary: Booker's plan to spend a lot of time very, very drunk is derailed by a stray dog. Next thing you know, Booker's running a home for old or otherwise unadoptable dogs. With all the emotional healing and catharsis you'd hope for. He woke in the morning to her curled on his bed behind his knee, the empty bottles that had been there knocked to the floor. It was warm and comforting and Booker groaned into his pillow. He had a fucking dog now.

first off, I just want to remind everyone to mind the tags on this one. animal death is a prevalent part of this fic. that being said, the deaths are treated with respect, and are relevant to the theme of this fic.

this is a fic about loneliness, about grief, and about love. we start in with booker about a year post-canon, and he is drinking himself through his days and so alone it fucking hurts. then, he gets a dog. an old dog, because he's too fucking lonely to turn down adopting a stray dog.

and then the dog dies.

and he grieves.

and before the loneliness can set in, circumstances conspire such that he adopts two more dogs and moves to the country.

and that's how it starts. booker takes care of old dogs (and once an ill-advised cat), because they need somewhere to go, and he needs to not be alone. it’s a grief every single time one of the dogs passes. but like rebreaking an arm that healed wrong, every time he grieves them, he learns how to grieve. how to live with a grief without it consuming his life, how to love something he knows will hurt him when it leaves. he loves them, he grieves them, he keeps living, and he heals.

this fic is a balm against loneliness, and a reminder that loving people you will lose is worth it, because you loved them.

Favorite Line: “It became almost cathartic – each time he mourned one of his friends, it was like he was mourning for himself, a little. The ache grew smaller each time.”