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joshisurcrush · 1 year

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'The Host' by Stephanie Meyer

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Dawg I'm gonna be really honest, I hated the novel for the first 200 pages. It was so edgy for no reason, the author was so mysterious and cryptic with it, but not in an appealing way; more in an edgy 13-year-old's angst fanfiction. I read this book because it was literally the only English book left in the school library that I hadn't read yet, and I didn't want to sit around bored at break. I'm gonna cover a lot of stuff in the book, that isn't mentioned on the cover or in most reviews, so here's a fat spoiler warning, since I'll be discussing things even more thoroughly than I would in other reviews.

First off, I wanna make it very clear to fellow aromantic individuals that this book is going to be either a) very funny, b) a case study, or c) hard to read. For me it was all three of those things. See, Stephenie Meyer, author of The Host, also wrote "Twilight" which y'all may have heard of. I saw "written by Stephenie Meyer, author of the *twilight saga*" on the cover of the book and gagged. Well, she's good at what she does, I'm gonna say, but that doesn't necessarily mean that I like it. Some parts of the book just had me frowning at the words on the page, the parts where one of the two main characters makes out with her partner (Melanie and Jared), for example. That part had me sitting in my chair thinking "Are people actually like this?" and "What the fu(dge), this is so cheesy." Right? But then there were other parts, (Wanda and Ian), where I found the romantic moments cute/funny. I think it’s mainly because the Wanda-Ian bond is more of the lighthearted cutesy friends-to-lovers bond, and not the “rah hot sexy ownership mmm sex” bond the way that Melanie and Jarend’s is written.

I digress, well, I think I should get to explaining. I'm not going to explain exactly why everything happens, but I'm going to list facts that you just have to believe me. Wanda is an alien parasite in Melanie's body, who controls Melanie's body entirely, but they're friends and can hear each other's thoughts. Jared is in love with Melanie, Jeb is Melanie's uncle and owns a secret underground base where most of the story takes place, and Jamie is Melanie's little (teenage) brother. Then there's super-sexy Ian who's in love with Wanda (the parasite) and somewhat-sexy Kyle, twin brother of Ian, who happens to be really violent and tried to kill Wanda (in Melanie's body) twice. Oh, and there's Doc, the kind surgeon. There's other characters but I don't think they'll be all that relevant to my review.

Well, I like Wanda, the main character. Ironically, it's in her parasite species' nature to attempt to please everyone, be nice and always keep everyone's best interest in mind, even at her own expense. Also, unrelated, but this is one of the stories with female characters that I thoroughly enjoy. As a guy I prefer stories with strong male leads, it's just my personal preference, and stories with female leads tend to feel flat and weak, or "forced-strong", or stereotypical in some way. Mosquitoland had a good female lead, along with Falling Into Place, and The Host. These are some good female leads/characters that I can thoroughly enjoy because there's inner conflict, backstory dimension and history, more than just a single objective or focus (a lot of love-stories tend to make the female character into this caricature of what a girl is, and I hate it because women have vivid internal lives and a boiled-down simplification simply doesn’t do it justice imo). Back to Wanda, though.

She becomes more and more human throughout the book (which is supposed to be like, a big thing. I bet Meyer was proud of that one.) It's underlined as the story goes on; Wanda compares herself and her emotions to the human ones and talks about how Earth is so unique and different from the other planets she's lived on, etc. You definitely feel an interesting but slight shift in her narration as the novel progresses, evolving with the number of connections she makes with the people around her.

Also, I like how Stephenie Meyer managed to separate Mel and Wanda from each other so distinctly. You get a feeling for how different the two of them are from each other, and how they each have their own principles and ideas, and they're like night and day, even though their actions are the same throughout the story. Talking about characters also, I like the way that all characters a) serve a purpose/role, and b) they're fleshed out well enough for me and c) they're not all written the same way, which is a fat pet peeve of mine. I hate when a story has three sarcastic characters, four strong men, and three quirky girls. They're all characterized differently, which makes Stephanie Meyer better at writing than whoever was behind the new arrangement of Marvel movies. Do not crucify me in the notes for having said that, I’ll get very sad.

LMAO Imagine being a Marvel superfan and trying to read a normal thriller or something, I feel like a Marvel superfan would gasp and flail on the floor like a fish on land if the murderer doesn’t go “erm.. Well that just happened 🤓” after brutally snuffing the lives out of his victim(s).

Plus, the story had the first good love triangle (tm) consisting of one body shared by Mel and Wanda, Jared and Ian. And the thing that makes it interesting to me is the fact that it's two couples (Wanda + Ian, and Jared + Melanie) who sort of have to work around the fact that both of the girls share the same body, which leads to jealousy between the two guys and Melanie and things like that. I found it interesting, it's so much better than the usual, and wildly annoying trope of "who will they pick! woo! two choices!" type of love triangle that I couldn't give two sharts about.

The one thing, though, that bumps this story up to its rating, from a six, is the ending. The ending is genuinely the happiest ending I've ever read. Nobody dies. Everyone wins. Everyone is happy and complete; nobody is left alone or heartbroken, and it ends on a good note (since this book doesn't and will not have a sequel.) It just wraps everything up really nicely, it actually had me grinning and screaming "Good for them!" internally. It's the best ending to a book I've gotten to read in a really, really long time.

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deadlilmoon · 2 years

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The 30 year age gap is really uncomfy :///

Yeah it is kinda, not gonna lie.

#it's a lot yeah I agree #but come on they are both adults and like - FICTIONAL CHARACTERS haha #this gave me flashbacks to Hank and Connor age gap discussion #like of course irl it's gonna look strange and uncomfy #but if we talking about fictional characters who have interesting chemistry and they are adults (if Laura is 20+) so why not

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7-oh-ta1 · 1 year

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One funny thing about the slowly resurfacing Anders discourse (and I mean by its real definition, like a debate or conversation not just yelling at each other) is that in his defense people will say, "he didn't tell Hawke what he was doing because he wanted to protect them from being his partner-in-crime" which sounds so noble on paper and in my opinion, is actually the case. Here's my problem: I don't just feel betrayed that he didn't tell Hawke what he was asking them do and making them guilty by association, I mostly feel betrayed because he was Hawke's friend and he blew up a church. Like personal betrayal aside he blew up a church. I think that's what bothers me here. It's a crazy thought, I know.

#lindsay speaks #dragon age #LET ME BE CLEAR I DON'T HATE ANDERS #and even if i did my feelings are not somehow an attack on your feelings for the fictional character.#for me personally i think anders is an interesting character and i think the games would be weakened by the lack of his presence #that being said he's also a manipulative jerk to hawke both on rival and friendship routes --#rival lesser so bec he's just mad at you (fair you have to be a dick to get his rival route) friendship moreso bec he uses your #relationship to get you to do things you may not be comfortable with and if you question him he gets pissed and says you're all talk about #mage freedom when he won't even tell you the purpose of what he's asking. and i don't appreciate the lovebombing the 2nd time you #talk to him in act 1 if you even remotely befriend or flirt the first conversation 5 seconds ago #so no i don't loooooove anders because of the way he treats Hawke. but that doesn't mean i don't appreciate him as a character either #i'm not the kind of person to think that characters have to be good people to be good characters #for my poor a3 followers who are confused: like how reni isn't a great person but he's a great character slimeball that he is.#put simply when I'm discussing my dislike for any fictional character I'm not saying they're bad characters unless i specifically state #that i think they're bad characters. do you understand?

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maximumphilosopheranchor · 2 years

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Parma was an ideal choice for the command. In the first place, he was Philip II’s nephew. His royal blood entitled him to deal directly with sovereign rulers, and gave him an effortless social status among the prickly Netherlands aristocracy. Second, he had grown up at the Spanish court, where he had developed valuable contacts among the king’s ministers, and at the same time come to understand the complex processes by which policies were made (and unmade) at the highest levels. Third, through his wide travels he had acquired a penetrating appreciation of Europe’s geography, and had come to know a large number of influential people. In 1557 he visited England, and was even spoken of as a possible bridegroom for the young and attractive Princess Elizabeth.

Colin Martin and Geoffrey Parker, The Spanish Armada

#Colin Martin #Geoffrey Parker #non-fiction #Alessandro Farnese #Duke of Parma #Elizabeth I #Elizabeth Tudor #I had completely forgotten that Alessandro Farnese was discussed as Elizabeth's potential husband #but considering the age difference I doubt it was a good idea

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zehecatl · 2 years

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the thing antis completely, and utterly, misunderstand, is that problematic fiction isn't normalising anything

fiction simply does not have that kind of sway over people. you are not going to suddenly think murder is okay, no matter how much fiction featuring murder you engage with

and the reason for this, is that you know it's wrong

people know incest is wrong. we understand why it's wrong, and no amount of fanfiction featuring happy incest couples is going to change that knowledge

that's why it's important to educate children. grooming works best on people who haven't been properly educated, who doesn't understand why this is dangerous and bad for them

knowledge is the most important tool we have. understanding is the most important tool we have. children should be educated, should be taught, because despite what we all want, the internet is not safe

life is not safe, and kids deserve to have every tool available to protect themselves

#ze.txt #like genuinely if you understand why something is wrong fiction isn't going to change your mind #we change our mind by talking to other people by reading about stuff by LEARNING #and there's no good enough argument that could convince anyone incest is okay #because by its nature incest is based upon a power difference #there's always going to be a difference in age and 'power' and it's never not going to be there #(also the reading about stuff is about like. discussion pieces and essays or what have you not fiction)#(like fiction can echo the sentiments we carry it can secure your stance in something. it can help you understand. but it can't normalise)

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falinscloaca · 2 years

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mary doesn’t know what a gay person is enough to be homophobic towards gary

#ib spoilers #(written after All Of This: Apologies for the brain vomit.)#this eventually turns into a screed against liking sibling ships LMFAO #ok now the tags begin:#thats the only thing stopping her #(semi-joking. like lol heehee mary hostility moments but. honestly i'm not sure she even dislikes him particularly????????)#(like. replaying the game. she's more frustrated than anything at him + obviously thinks the 'bunnies' are cute)#(she doesn't HATE the guy and has some sorta warped affection for 'im in that 'rips up your heart flower in a loves-me-not game' way but.)#(still clearly sees him as an Obstacle more than anything. a means to an end.)#(jealous of ib's trust in him in their dysfunctional three-person found family dynamic BECAUSE SHE CAN ONLY CONTEXTUALIZE #HER BABY-BRAIN AFFECTION FOR IB AS A SISTERLY THING BC WRAPPING THIS AROUND SHE DOES NOT FUCKING KNOW WHAT A GAY PERSON IS #also for the record i said this before but i Do Not Ship Them!!! and frankly mary would move on by the time she realizes what being gay actu #actually is. she's like 9 and ib was the first girl she met in her age group. we aren't having any funny buisiness here thats gross.#i. hate explaining that every fucking time i bring this up but i cannot stress enough how unwelcome *those* sorts of shipping-brains are.#it sucks. i just want to discuss the definitely-embarrassing-to-her-#.-later-in-life motives of the human sacrificing painting girl and insinuate she's gay without the precident of FREAKS getting wierd aboutit #ANYWAYS CITRUS FUCKING *SUUUUUUUUUUUUUCKS* AND IF YOU SUPPORT FICTIONALIZED GLORIFICATIONS OF STEP-SIBLING SHIT DIE fJHKSDHGLKJSDG #*cough* anyways but yeah mary doesn't know what a gay person is

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fionnaskyborn · 5 months

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and TODAY ON "Songs Fionna can't listen to without them fucking her up immensely and remind her why she doesn't listen to them very often every time she listens to them", we have:

youtube

#logs #every time i'm like oh this song gets me in my feels i should listen to it and every time i end up hurting #something something proof of being alive yeah yeah but i really can't handle it #big shouts to trocadero for making songs that fuck me up every time i listen to them #i mean nothing comes close to contact in terms of how much a trocadero song fucks me up but you gotta admit‚ and i wonder where you are /#and i wonder what you wore / and i'm lost inside a bar / and i'm drunk inside a war / and i wonder where you are is also terrific #okay i'm gonna go cry about the tragedy of making a hyperspecific space opera that holds so much meaning and discusses so many things from #grief through moving on through learning how to live after having spent a significant portion of your life without any kind of autonomy #through reunions and learning how to talk with someone you haven't seen in nineteen years to‚ ultimately‚ having hope no matter what gets #thrown your way and that is ultimately about giving people happiness and closure but that loses a lot of its value by fitting into very #specific niches due to its nature as a work of fiction based on two works created by other people and having the centerpieces be not people #i have managed to come up with and whose stories i've written #but rather pre-existing persons that are mindchildren of a completely different individual #the worst part is that the story simply wouldn't work with different characters or using a different story as a basis. what i have created‚#what i WANT to create is‚ by all standards that count... perfect. the story /works/ /because/ of the characters involved. but the overlap #between the people who enjoy the story the characters are derived from AND the story that serves as the setting is so comically small that #it's all but impossible to find an audience to whom the story would mean as much as it means to me. and there are a few people out there‚#sure enough. but i am terrified to reach out because this is so personal to me. i'd love to share this story with people but spilling my #entrails out and having people turn away dissatisfied with what they see or saying it's ''not for them'' hurts me more than almost anything #else in this world. call me a coward‚ but my soul's aged too fast‚ and i'm tired‚ and i can't bear that risk.#one day‚ though... someone will listen.#black blank blah-blah-blah

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vanessagillings · 28 days

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I’m posting the ever-so-rare photo of myself alongside one of my characters based on my childhood because today is World Autism Acceptance Day, and I wanted to show my little corner of the internet who this particular autistic person is:

I was officially diagnosed in February, at age 38 (I’m now 39). A lot of people thought I couldn’t be autistic. Some people who know me in real life still don’t. And until around 10 years ago, I didn’t think I could be either, because I was nothing like the stereotype media portrays. I was told that autistics lacked empathy (untrue), and never played make-believe (also often untrue) and only enjoyed STEM. I was — and am — an empathetic artist -- and make believe? I can spend days sketching finely bedecked bears brewing tea or carefully choosing the right words to weave tapestries of fiction — though perhaps my hyper focus was a bit of a red flag. Even so, how could autism describe me? I was a good student. I got straight A's. I didn’t act out in class. I can make eye contact…if I must. And lots of girls hate having their hair brushed with an unholy passion, right? Clearly I swim in sarcasm like a fish, so autism couldn't be why I was so anxious all the time, could it?

If someone had told me when I was younger what autism ACTUALLY is — instead of the nonsense I’d seen on screens — I would have seen myself in it. I didn’t hear that autistics have sensory issues until I was in my mid-twenties, which is when I first began to really research autism symptoms, and I had almost all of them: sensitivity to light, smells, fabrics, temperatures, textures, and certain touches, all of which make me feel anxious, I fidget (stim), I never know what the hell to do with my hands or where to look, I talk too little or too much, I have special interests, I have entire animated movies memorized shot-by-shot and can remember the first time and place I saw every movie I've ever seen but I often forget what I'm trying to say mid-sentence, I echo movies and tv shows (my husband and I have a whole repertoire of shared echolalias, making up about 20% of our conversations), I was in speech therapy as a kid, I have issues with dysnomia and verbal fluency, I toe-walk, I can't multitask to save my life, I like things just-so, I’m deeply introverted but not shy, I need to recover from all social interaction — even social interaction I enjoy — and I find stupid, every day things like grocery shopping, driving and making appointments overwhelming and intensely stressful, sometimes to the point where I struggle to speak. It turns out, I am definitely autistic. My results weren't borderline. Not even close. And while these aren’t all of my challenges, and not everyone with these symptoms is autistic, it’s definitely something to look into if you present with all of these things at once.

So why did it take me so long to get diagnosed? The same bias that exists in media threads through the medical community as well, and because I'm a woman who can discuss the weather while smiling on cue, few people thought I was worth looking into. Even after I was fairly certain I was autistic, receiving an official diagnosis in the US is unnecessarily difficult and expensive, and in my case, completely uncovered by my insurance. It cost me over $4000, and I could only afford it because my husband makes more money than I do as a freelance illustrator — a job I fell into largely because it didn’t require in-person work; like many autists, I have been chronically underemployed and underpaid, in part due to physical illness in my twenties, which is a topic for another day. But it shouldn’t be like this. It shouldn’t be so hard for adults to receive diagnoses and it shouldn’t be so hard for people to see themselves in this condition to begin with due to misinformation and stereotypes. Like many issues in America, these barriers are even higher for marginalized groups with multiple intersectionalities.

It’s commonly said that if you’ve met one autistic person, you’ve met one autistic person. This is why it’s called a spectrum, not because there’s a linear progression of severity (someone who appears to have low support needs like myself might need more than it seems, and vice versa), but because every autistic person has their own strengths and weaknesses, challenges and experiences, opinions and needs. No two people on the spectrum present in the same way. And that’s a good thing! No way of being autistic is inherently any better than any other, and even if someone on the spectrum struggles with things I don’t — or can do things I can’t — doesn’t make them more or less deserving of respect and human dignity.

But speaking solely for myself, the more I learn about autism, the happier I am to be autistic. I struggle to find words and exert fine motor control, but my deep passion and fixation has made me good at art and storytelling anyway. I find more joy watching dogs and studying leaf shapes on my walks than most people do in an entire day. More often than not, the barriers I’ve faced weren’t due to my autism directly, but due to society being overly rigid about what it considers a valid way of existing. My hope in writing this today is that maybe one person will realize that autism isn’t what they thought — and that being different is not the same as being less than. My hope with my fiction is to give autistic children mirrors with which to see themselves, and everyone else windows through which to see us as we actually are.

If you’re interested in learning more about autism or think you might be autistic, too, I recommend the Autism Self Advocacy Network autisticadvocacy.org and the following books:

What I Mean When I Say I’m Autistic by Annie Kotowicz

We're Not Broken by Eric Garcia

Knowing Why edited by Elizabeth Bartmess

Unmasking Autism by Devon Price, PhD

Loud Hands edited by Julia Bascom

Neurotribes by Steve Silberman

(trigger warning: the last two contain quite a lot of upsetting material involving institutionalized child abuse, but I think it’s important for people to know how often autistic children were — and are — abused simply for being neurodivergent).

Thanks for reading 💛

#autism acceptance day #actually autistic

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sarahreesbrennan · 3 months

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Are all the themes in “in other lands” supposed to be a commentary on something? Or do you just like writing sex scenes between minors, age gaps, and reverse misogyny?

Genuine question.

Ohhh, my dear anon, I don't believe this is a genuine question.

But it does bring up something I've been meaning to talk about. So I'll take the bait.

Firstly. Yes, my work contains a commentary on the world around us. I wonder what I could be doing with the child soldiers being sexually active in their teens (people hook up right after battles), and the age gap relationship ending in the younger one being too mature for the elder. What could I possibly have been attempting when I said 'how absurd gender roles are, when projected onto people we haven't been accustomed by our own society to see that way'? I wasn't being subtle, that's for sure.

Secondly. Yes I do enjoy writing! I think I should, it's my life's work. Am I titillated by my own writing, no - though I think it's fine to be. The sex scenes of In Other Lands aren't especially titillating, to be honest. It is interesting to me how often people sneer at women for writing romance and sex scenes, having 'book boyfriends,' insinuating women writers fancy their own characters. Women having too much immoral fun! Whereas men clearly write about sex for high literary purposes.

… I have to say from my experience of women and men's writing, I haven't found that to be true.

I’m not in this to have an internet argument. I prefer to leave my anons open since not everyone has a tumblr, as @neil-gaiman says it’s an internet backwater, but a lovely one for those like myself who enjoy an essay about fictional characters! Still I will close my inbox to anons if I must. Mostly people use bad faith takes to poke at others from the other side of a screen for kicks. But I do know some truly internalise the attitude that writing certain things is wrong, that anyone who makes mistakes must be shunned as impure, and that is a deeply Victorian and restrictive attitude that guarantees unhappiness.

I've become increasingly troubled by the very binary and extreme ways of thinking I see arising on the internet. They come naturally from people being in echo chambers, becoming hostile to differing opinions, and the age-old conundrum of wanting to be good, fearing you aren't, and making the futile effort to be free of sin. It makes me think of Tennyson, who when travelling through Ireland at the time of the Great Famine, said nobody should talk about the 'Irish distress' to him and insisted the window shades of his carriage be shut as he went from castle to castle. So he wouldn't see the bodies. But that didn't make the bodies cease to be.

In Les Mis, Victor Hugo explores why someone might steal, what that means about them and their circumstances, and who they might be - and explores why someone else is made terribly unhappy, and endangers others, through their own too rigid adherence to judgement and condemnation without pity. The story understands both Jean Valjean the thief and Javert the policeman. Javert’s way of thinking is the one that inevitably leads to tragedy.

Depiction isn't endorsement. Depiction is discussion.

Many of my loved ones have had widely varying relationships to and experience of sex (including 'none'). They've felt all different types of ways about it. If writing about them is not permissible, I close them out. I'd much rather a dialogue be open than closed.

I do understand the urge to write what seems right to others. I've been brain-poisoned that way myself. I used to worry so much about my female characters doing the wrong things, because then they'd be justly hated! Then I noted which of my writer friends had people love their female characters the most - and it was the one who wrote their female characters as screwing up massively, making rash and sometimes wrong decisions. Who wrote them as people. Because that's what people do. That's what feels true to readers.

I want my characters to feel true to readers. I want my characters to react in messy ways to imperfect situations. I love fantasy, I love wild action and I love deep thought, and I want to engage. That's what In Other Lands is about. That's even more what Long Live Evil is about. That sexy lady who sashays in to have sexy sex with the hero - what is her deal? Someone who tricks and lies to others - why are they doing that, how did they get so skilled at it? What makes one person cruelly judgemental, and another ignore all boundaries? What makes Carmen Maria Machado describe ‘fictional queer villains’ as ‘by far the most interesting characters’? What irritates people about women having a great time? What attracts us to power, to fiction, and to transgression?

I don’t know the answers to all those questions, but I know I want to explore them. And I know one more thing.

If the moral thing to do is shut people out and shut people up? Count me among the villains.

#bookblr #discourse #in other lands #long live evil #les mis #carmen maria machado #writing

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joshisurcrush · 1 year

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"IT" by Stephen King

To preface this, the book is nothing like the movie. It's absolutely nothing like the movie. They took the characters' names and three isolated events from the book that were roughly three pages long each, and then made a movie out of that. If you watched the movie, don't associate it with my following review.

Heads up, I ABUSE brackets (constantly), and another FYI: There’ll be a level of abuse/sex/gore talk, so it might be in your best interest to skip this review if you’re sensitive to that.

IT (by Stephen King) was super crazy, I loved it, and my overactive imagination did too. The characters are pretty good (I'd kiss Richie Tozier on the lips in a mildly homoerotic way), the story is laid out so nicely and the word choice is insane. Even as someone who’s not a native speaker but started English along with basic multiplication, I’ve had to search up some words. Sure, the book might have given me nightmares about flying leeches biting dime-sized holes into my arms and flying into my mouth to then blow up to the size of a balloon as they fill with my blood, but it was fun to read. Wild ride. I also liked the perspective switch, graphic detailing, and the way that the horrible events described were used as a vessel to talk about bigger things. This book basically scratched all of my itches. A need for gore, a need for emotional depth, a need for comedic relief, a need for poetry, a need for murder and for horrors beyond my comprehension.

Ok, I'm gonna elaborate a bit further to do the story justice. I drip-fed the book to myself slowly, reading a bit every day, five days a week, and it took me... weeks. Well, currently it's one of my favorite books and there's good reason for it. First off, the perspective switches were awesome. Point, end of the story, I don’t care how you stand to Stephen King himself, the plot or anything else relating the book. Incredible. I like how you were able to see everything from everyone's perspective, how there were subjective and objective accounts of things, diary entries, news articles, etc. Had me cumming and nutting I swear to god and little baby jesus, it's so good.

Second, the family dynamics were well-written. I'm a cause-and-effect type of guy, and I like when characters are fleshed out, and there's a rhyme and reason as to why they're the way they are. King (Stephen King, the author) executes this fantastically by letting you meet the families of most of the losers (that's what they call the main characters if you were unaware.)

For example, we're introduced to Bill's post-Georgie apathetic, cold family (giving him a motive to kill IT, since he thinks it'll make his family care about him again). We meet Eddie Kaspbrak’s mother, a fat and overly emotional lady that sort of abused him (I'm sure that the way she treated him was abusive actually) and she ended up really shaping his character from a young age.

Mike Hanlon's family was awesome and supportive though, real model family, but he got crap for being african american (the story’s set in 1958, it was really bad for Mike). Richie Tozier also had a good family (probably the most normal), and Stan Uris did as well (he went birdwatching a lot with his dad.) Bev's family, I think, was the worst of all because her dad physically and emotionally abused her, and well as attempting to sexually abuse her. This is later reflected in the man she marries, Tom, who physically, emotionally, and sexually abuses her. It was very hard to read, I'm gonna be honest. I didn't know what it feels like to read something with a lump in your throat until I read the parts about Tom and Beverly. Plus, it's like... ultra-triggering for survivors of abuse, it was pretty triggering to me, so I'd discourage anyone who went through that kind of stuff from reading. If you really wanna read IT though, as a sexual assault survivor or someone who’s easily triggered by stuff related to SA, you should skip over the Beverly POVs because frankly, they're just brutal.

Well, on a lighter note, I like how Stephen King wrote sex in this book (it's a continuous theme.) And before you judge me, I'm praising him for being thorough enough, but also vague enough. The story is not an erotica, it's not meant to be hot. Sex is mentioned as a form of bond, as a form of abuse (holy shit there's so much abuse in this book, it's absolutely packed with it), and also mentioned in the "losing your childhood / growing old" sort of way which becomes VERY important later in the story. Sex is only insinuated in the story, it's not graphic, you don't get any action out of it and it's only for the plot which I find awesome. Even in the part where adult Bill cheats on his wife with also-adult Beverly (lol), sex is only insinuated, even though it's the only actual erotic scene in the book. Felt like mentioning it on the side, but I *do* think that the way that King wrote about ten-year-old Beverly Marsh’s body way very, very weird; but I was able to let it slide because it wasn’t too frequent and medium in severity. Still think King is kinda messed for describing a kid’s body that way.

Lastly, the poetry is crazy good, and the way he strings together the literal dozens of characters with their own individual stories and experiences is so well-executed. King unironically sat down, created a masterpiece, and dipped. Everything fits into place, all the experiences come together to form this... beautiful picture with no loose threads. Everything ties off together, there are no plotholes and the more you think about it, the more it makes sense. I'm getting goosebumps and a boner thinking about this (I'm a writer, how could you tell?), but the only thing I didn't like about the book is how it ends. I’m gonna ruin Christmas, but essentially IT ends with all of them moving to different states/places and forgetting each other, like, a full memory wipe, and just going back to their lives before that. They're slightly improved though, because Bev leaves her abusive husband and Ben gets a promotion, along with Bill's depression lightening up.

Now comes something that really ruffles my feathers. I hate Ben's and Beverly's relationship toward the end. I hate, hate, hate it. If the word HATE was printed tiny, 10 times onto every square inch of the 1184 pages of the IT paperback, it wouldn't be able to touch the amount of HATE HATE HATE that I feel for the relationship between the two. Bev could have ended up with anyone else. Richie would’ve been ideal, maybe Eddie, hell, Bill would have even been fine if his wife had died. But Ben? Ben the weirdo who's fantasized about touching her breasts starting in fourth grade? Ben who never got over her, even as she was married? Ben who couldn't back the heck off? Ben, the lonely pig who I wished had died instead of Eddie in the finale of the book? I guess he's not as bad as Tom, but holy, I was dreading the Bev&Ben arc, and it ended up being confirmed at the end of the book. Screw that, bro.

Still doesn't take away from how good the book was. I'd rate it a solid ten.

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bratzforchris · 1 month

Text

Tumblr Girls, M. Sturniolo

Summary: Matt can't help but to visit his favorite fuck buddy on tour, who just can't help but to tease him with her Tumblr posts. Songfic loosely based off of "Tumblr Girls" by G-Eazy<3

Pairing: Matt x feminine and influencer!reader

Warnings: Smut, unprotected p in v, marking, bondage, friends with benefits, fingering, oral (f), dom!Matt, choking, intoxicated sex (alcohol), dirty talk, belly bulge, no aftercare but fluffish (?) ending (i do not condone any of this irl!! it is *fiction*)

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: Get your holy water ready girlies...

Ever since you were a little girl, you had been enamored by the idea of being famous. Something about the life called to you, whether that be walking down the street and people knowing you, or simply realizing that you were having an impact on someone, somewhere’s life. Fortunately, you had grown up in the age of the Internet, allowing you to truly harness what you had wanted to do for so long. You loved having creative freedom, and you loved making a persona that was truly you.

You had been making YouTube videos, doing a variety of Instagram influencing, and posting carefully crafted aesthetic photos to Tumblr ever since middle school. Whereas a lot of the girls had moved out of their Tumblr influencer phase, you never really had. You still loved the dark, “grunge” aesthetic of it to this, and had turned your account into a more mature, X-rated theme of what it once had been. You loved doing social media as your full time job for a variety of reasons, from the freedom it gave you to the opportunities.

Perhaps your biggest “opportunity” was your fellow influencer and YouTuber, Matt. Your relationship with Matt was…complicated, to say the least. As much as you were a wholesome, loving duo on camera, you were filled with an almost primal need for each other off of it too. You and Matt had never discussed a true, established relationship, mostly because you were both so young and so busy, and the rough, hard fucking in itself was enough to satisfy the needs in both of your lives.

Your careers had consumed both of you as of late, dragging Matt all over the country for the Versus tour, and leaving you back in LA with a variety of brand deals to film and photo shoots to arrange. There was one in particular that you were heavily looking forward to, mostly because you knew that it would drag Matt back to you, unable to help himself. In a fateful turn of events, you had been emailed about a Calvin Klein intimates shoot that would just so happen to drop on the day Matt was back in LA for a show. In an effort to bring back the Tumblr renaissance and the hold Calvin Klein had had during those days, you had insisted that the photos be posted to Tumblr before any other social media platform.

Matt: i’m back in la tn

You: oh i know ;)

Matt: ??? huh

You: no reason. just focus on winning tonight :)

You smiled to yourself as you closed your text messages out and migrated over to your photo gallery. Your manager had sent you the photos of the shoot to be posted this evening, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t planning on fucking with Matt’s head using them. You had missed your fuck buddy, after all. The late night phone sex wasn’t the same as him in your bed, mumbling in your ear about how well you were taking it.

The photos from the shoot were of you in a gray Calvin Klein bralette with a matching thong. The photos had been toned with a sepia overlay, highlighting the curves of your breasts and hips. Your hair fell back against your shoulders gracefully as your doe eyes stared up at the camera. The shots were nothing short of sexy, making you imagine how Matt would react when he got the post notification. Maybe he would be sitting backstage, getting ready to go on and trying to hide his growing boner both from his brothers and the fans, which only made you smile more.

You and Matt continued to text back and forth for a while, until you suddenly stopped responding. This was part of your game with each other; to make the yearning so painful that it just made the sex more passionate. Once you saw that it had hit the fifteen minute mark until Matt was supposed to appear on stage, you hit ‘post’ on the Tumblr draft of your photos that you had planned out earlier in the day. The caption, come over 💋, was directly aimed at Matt, but no one else needed to know that. Sure enough, less than one minute later, you received a text from the brunette that had your heart racing and your thighs clenching.

Matt: what the fuck, y/n?

You smiled as you typed out your own message, imagining Matt biting his lip and trying to conceal the growing tent in his pants as he studied the photos.

You: what?

Matt: you know what

You: no i don’t

Matt: that fucking post

You: it’s part of my job, matt. quit being ridiculous. have you not heard about tumblr girls making a comeback?

Matt: watch it. i’m coming over and fucking that pretty pussy good tonight.

You knew what your and Matt’s usual routine was, so you grabbed another cup from the cabinet and the bottle of whiskey, migrating over to the gray couch in your living room. You didn’t bother waiting for the brunette to start drinking. Matt had a key to your apartment and would definitely make himself known when he arrived. You slowly sipped at the amber liquid, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks and in between your thighs as you thought about Matt and how much you had missed the feeling of his skin on yours.

Sure enough, the door swung open with a loud bang a few minutes later. In came Matt, hair disheveled and still in his blue Matthew jersey. His growing erection was obvious as he flopped onto the couch, lips immediately crashing into your own. Matt’s hands were all over you as you devoured each other; in your hair, running across your hips, grabbing your ass.

“Fuck, baby. I missed you.” he panted, leaning back against the couch as you passed him a drink.

“I missed you, Matt,” You smiled softly, tucking one of his curls behind his ear. “How has tour been?”

Matt took a large swig of whiskey, before placing the cup on the coffee table. “Good. But not as good as you looked in those goddamn pictures.” he practically moaned.

“I noticed you have my post notifications on,” You teased, despite blushing at his words. “Catching feelings, Matthew?”

Matt rubbed your bare thigh, scooting closer to you so that he could suckle on the sweet spot behind your ear. “Do you know how hard it was?” he asked, leaving a hickey. “To have to go out on stage with my brothers and act normal when all I could think about were your tits and how I want to pound that little cunt to pieces? Huh?”

You whined as Matt continued to trail hickeys down your neck, mumbling things like “missed you so bad” and “gonna fuck you so hard” after each one. You two fell back against the soft cushions of the couch, Matt holding you down by the hips as his lips caressed your neck, the curve of your collarbone, and the dip of your breasts. You went to reach for Matt’s ringed fingers, only for him to smack your hand away.

“No,” Matt said harshly, moving one hand from your hip to your throat. “Tell me how fuckin’ bad you want it first,” he growled, squeezing your throat just enough to make the air catch in your lungs. “Tell me you wanna get off on my fingers like a goddamn bitch in heat.”

You gasped for air as Matt continued to squeeze, your arousal thumping through your veins. “P…please,” You whispered, eyes wide with lust as he continued to choke you just enough to get you going, but not enough to actually hurt you. “Need your fingers.” You whined, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Good girl.” Matt hummed, alcohol hot on his breath as he moved his hands from your throat to practically rip your gray panties off.

With your friends with benefits arrangement, there was no time for gentle caressing or sweet nothings. Matt began to finger you roughly, the cool metal of his rings brushing against your slick folds as he rubbed his thumb across your clit at a dizzying pace. He wasn’t stopping there, either. Matt immediately thrust his middle and ring finger inside of you, pulling you closer to him. It had only been a few minutes, and the ache to orgasm was already building in your lower stomach.

“Matt,” You wailed, nails gripping his back. “Oh my god, Matt,” Tears began to roll down your face as the brunette continued to pleasure you. The combination of his fingers inside of you, the friction on your clit, and the added sensation of his rings were clouding everything in a lustful haze. “Need to cum.” You sobbed.

“You’re fuckin’ crazy if you think you’re comin’ on my fingers instead of tongue.” he chuckled roughly.

With that, Matt threw his head down and forced your thighs apart, burying his face in your pussy. He began to devour you like you were the last meal on earth and he was a starving man. His tongue ran across your slit and clit, before licking your hole. You had no choice but to let out little squeals and whimpers as pleasurable sensations attacked you from all angles. Matt ran the flat of his tongue across your clit and you lost it, sobbing as your hands found his hair.

“Matt, please,” You begged. “‘M gonna cum.”

Your fuck buddy just nodded, still enjoying the taste of you on his tongue. You immediately took it as a sign to let go, releasing the tension that had been building in your stomach. You came all over Matt’s tongue, panting and breathing heavily as your body shook from the pure force of your orgasm. Matt pulled his head from between your thighs, licking his lips and fingers with a smirk, blue eyes hungrily grazing over your body that was still wrapped in the bra and flannel with your bare ass on display.

“You taste so goddamn good, you know that?” he asked, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you panted.

You smiled as Matt pressed a kiss to your pubic bone, but it was clear that the brunette wasn’t done yet. Matt slowly pulled the red and black material from your shoulders, smiling with more than just happiness. He had an intention and you could see it in the way he was toying with the fabric, eyes lighting up with lust. Matt didn’t speak again until he had removed your Calvin Klein bra, leaving you completely exposed on the couch as he stared down at you.

“Hands.” he said.

It was one word, but the command held an authoritative aire that had you thrusting your wrists to meet Matt’s own. Matt knew you better than practically anyone, which meant he knew all of your dirty little fantasies. Knowing you had a thing for bondage, the brunette quickly and expertly bound your wrists together in the flannel, giving it a tight tug to make sure it was secure. Your breath hitched at the pure filth of everything, but all you knew was that this alone was making your legs clench with need for another climax.

Matt was straddling you on the couch, fully clothed, which just added to the dominance he had over you. You were completely naked and covered in blooming hickeys he had left earlier in the evening with your wrists bound together by a flannel. You truly looked like Matt’s little cumslut, but you couldn’t find the decency in you to care anymore. You just knew that you were at his mercy and that you needed him. Now.

The brunette could sense your urgency and decided to have a little ‘fun’ with you. Matt took his time removing his shirt, allowing you to bask in the glory of him shirtless, all tanned skin and tattoos, but completely unable to do anything about it other than whimper and let out breathy moans. He moved onto his jeans next, painstakingly undoing his belt and throwing his pants to the side. The boy left his boxers on for the time being, teasing you as he stroked his cock through the plaid fabric.

“Wish that was you, huh? Strokin’ my dick and makin’ me feel good?” Matt chuckled, moaning when he hit a particularly sensitive spot.

You whimpered and writhed against your bond. “Need you in me, Matt. Please.” You whined.

Finally, Matt slid his boxers off and tossed them to the side, allowing his erection to finally spring free. His dick was practically touching his stomach, making your mouth run dry with a mixture of excitement and nerves. After so long apart and without truly fucking, you had forgotten just how big he was. Matt climbed on top of you once more, rocking his hips back and forth on your own without actually riding you.

“Beg for it. Tell me how much you love my cock, baby girl.” Matt groaned at the friction of your skin against his own, becoming harder by the second.

“I need you inside me. Need your dick, Matt.” You whimpered, the teasing growing straight to your nipples and cunt, making you almost ache with arousal.

“That’s right. Good fuckin’ girl.”

Without another word, Matt slammed into you, making you take him to the hilt. You let out an involuntary scream at the feeling of suddenly being so full, your back arching against the couch cushions. The feeling of him inside you, bare and hard, was enough to push you to the brink of orgasm. Your second always came faster than your first, and right now was no exception. Matt was riding you at an ungodly pace, his balls slapping against your ass with every thrust as he straddled you.

“Oh my god, baby,” Matt moaned loudly. “I missed your wet little pussy. So tight, just for me.”

The filthiness of his speaking, combined with your bonds and the feeling of him fucking you was pushing you over the edge. You wanted to tangle your hands in Matt’s hair or run your nails down his back, but instead you were unable to do anything that wasn’t taking his fucking like a slut. Matt pressed down on the bulge in your stomach from being balls deep, a smirk on his face.

“You feel that, baby? Feel you takin’ me like the cockslut you are?” he chuckled.

You whined as tears rolled down your face, bucking his hips up to meet his own. “Matt, I…I–need to, please.” You wailed, unable to form coherent sentences in your intoxicated and lustful state.

“You gonna cum? Gonna make me feel appreciated?” Matt’s blue eyes scanned your face, enjoying the view that was you under him, tied up and sobbing.

“Mhm!” You sobbed.

“Then prove it.” he sneered, pressing on your stomach roughly again.

You didn’t need to be told twice. You immediately let your climax take over, your cunt clenching against Matt’s cock. This caused the brunette to let out a string of curses as you came down from your high, your entire body shaking. He knew he was playing a risky game here, even though you were on the pill, but Matt just loved fucking you bare more than anything in the world. The brunette quickly pulled out, and before you knew it, your stomach was covered in thick and warm, white ropes of Matt’s cum.

He laid down beside you on the couch, panting heavily as you both came down from your shared highs. Once your breathing had returned to semi normal, Matt kissed you roughly and undid your bonds, before rolling off the couch. Without another word, he pulled his clothes on, straightening his hair. Your fuck buddy kissed your forehead as he busied himself around your apartment, cleaning up the whiskey and cups and retrieving a warm washcloth to wipe down your body with.

Once everything had been done, Matt tucked you in with a blanket, kissing your forehead. “I gotta go. We’re driving up to San Francisco tonight and I told Nick and Chris I would be back by two. I’ll see ya once the tour is over, yeah?”

You smiled sleepily as Matt slipped out your front door and into the night. Whereas you would’ve loved for the brunette to stay the night, you knew that you both had jobs to do and that right now, you were just fuck buddies and that was that. But as you drifted off to sleep, a warm feeling spread through your tummy that you and Matt wouldn’t stay “just friends” for long.

tags ♡: @aemrsy @jake-and-johnnies-slut @mattsfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxyz @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @bunny-cotton @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @not-phone-guy @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @faygo-frog @oobleoob @runasvengence

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