#Bookslut

[wildandsmile]

𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 ☆ 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬; 𝐚𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬

🗯️ cassian, lucien, tamlin, azriel, rhysand, eris. spanking, praise, dirty talk, breeding kink, degradation, oral(receiving), sub x dom relationships, wrote this at like 2am so it’s not the greatest thing i’ve ever produced. enjoy!

𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐧 —

• loves to tease you, especially while you’re busy.

• reading? no you’re not. cassian is busy chatting away in your ear, whispering filthy things that would make asmodeous blush.

• takes you anywhere and everywhere, especially when you two first mated. it drove everybody else crazy.

• likes quickies. nuts inside you everytime.

“cass.. cassie! slow down, slow down!” cassian groans as he ruts into you, hard and fast and so perfectly deep you feel like you can touch the stars blurring your vision. “shhh, baby.. you’re gonna get us caught. is that what you want? want rhysie to see me fucking your brains out?” he held you up against the lounge room wall, the lounge room that was less than two doors down from rhysand’s office, where he was holding a serious meeting. a meeting cassian was supposed to be at, but he had ditched to bury himself inside your welcoming pussy. “shit.. squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight.” he groaned into your ear, keeping a firm grip on your ass. “cassian..” you whimpered, digging your nails into his shoulders, near his wings. a shiver ran down his spine and he gave a particularly hard thrust into your heat, and you cried out loudly. cassian slapped his hand over your mouth, resting his forehead against yours. “fuck. gonna cum inside you.” he grunted, roughly shoving himself into your dripping heat over and over again. his thumb caught against your clit and he began rubbing feverish circles against it, drawing you to an orgasm. you cried against his hand as his hips stuttered and he emptied himself inside you, filling your womb. “fuck.. that’s my girl.”

𝐫𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝 —

• loves fucking you slow.

• worships your body from head to toe, kissing every single part of you until you’re shaking and begging him to make you cum.

• EATS. IT.

• biggest munch alive. would happily spend the next two thousand years of his life buried between your thighs with his tongue lapping against your cunt.

• doesn’t like quickies but will do them if you need. knows how to make you cum in twenty seconds flat.

• praises you like crazy.

rhys laid you down on your shared bed gently, pressing a kiss against your ankle. you sat up on your elbows and gazed at him as he unlatched the hook on your high heel, pulling it off and soon doing the same with the other. “rhys.. what’s the matter?” you asked softly, reaching out to run your hand through his soft hair. “am i not allowed to love my wife?” he discarded your heels and crawled on top of you, pulling the skirt of your dress up over your hips and letting it rest on your stomach. he got down and pressed his lips against your clothed cunt, kissing above your clit. he reveled in the way your body reacted to his touch, twitching and relaxing under him. “i love you..” you muttered. he smirked against your heat, hooking his fingers over the waistband of your panties and pulling them down to your ankles, discarding them as he did your heels. “i know.” he went for your clit immediately, making you moan and arch your back. “you’ll never question my love for you when i’m done.”

𝐚𝐳𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥 —

• shadows.

• knows your body like the back of his hand

• is canonically a slut. knows how to please a woman but can get impatient.

• will fuck you with half his dick to get you used to him at first.

• chokes you. loves seeing your pretty throat underneath his hand.

• his shadows whisper in your ears and trail along your body while he defiles you.

• begs you to sit on his face.

it’s cold all around, but the temperature doesn’t reach your skin. azriel’s shadows wrapped around your naked body, slinking over your breasts and dipping between your legs as azriel’s large hands held your thighs open. he positioned himself between your legs, reaching one hand to begin jerking himself off. his gaze roamed over your supple flesh, arched back and glossy lips looking so perfect for him. he had eaten you out prior, making sure you were relaxed and wet enough to take him. “ready?” he groaned, finding it increasingly difficult to restrain from touching you. “yes..” he slipped inside of you immediately, slowly pressing each inch inside of you. the stretch hurt in such a good way. you’d never fully get used to the feeling of him. “shit.. good.. that’s good. you’re taking me so well, princess.” he groans as his shadows swirl around your neck. it’s imposing, an arousing threat. azriel places his hand over your throat and squeezes gently. “like that?” he asks. you whimper as he begins picking up the pace, fucking into you feverishly. “like that, huh? you like being fucked like this?” he asks repeatedly, but you can’t respond. can only nod and whimper and choke on your moans. “good.. take it.”

𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐥𝐢𝐧 —

• rough but gentle and romantic sometimes.

• loves being buried inside of you.

• prefers to fuck in the bedroom but will take you out in the garden.

• loves it when you say his name. chooses you every calanmai but refuses to marry you.

• loves spanking your ass.

“say my name, baby.” he growls, his grip on your hips borderline bruising as he ruts into you from behind. he lands a slap against your ass cheek, leaving a red print. “say it.” “tam! tamlin..!” you cry out, face-down-ass-up for your high lord. “fuck.. yeah, baby. takin’ my cock so good. made for it.” he mumbles from behind you, the sound of your wet cunt and his pelvis slapping against your ass filling the room. the bed lurched forward each time he thrusted into you, filling you up perfectly, nearly kissing your cervix. he leaned forward and pinched your clit, making you jerk and cry out. “cum for me, baby. now. cum for me.” he growls, picking up speed and railing you so hard you felt that your back would give. your cunt clenched around him so hard you were seeing stars, but what sent you over the edge was one more swipe over your clit and one more swat at your ass. you fell apart on his cock, spasming as he emptied himself inside of you. he stayed sheathed in your cunt for a few moments before leaning down and pressing a kiss against your temple. “good girl.. did so good for me.” he wrapped his arms around you and the feeling of his breath on your neck sent a shiver down your spine. “love you, baby.”

𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧 —

• the most gentle and attentive lover EVER.

• won’t cum unless you do.

• he whimpers.

• charming, so charming. got you to fall in love with him by weaving you a bracelet made of dandelions.

• praises you sooo much. is absolutely pussy whipped and head over heels for you.

• big dick. fucks with fire in his veins. is always warm.

“are you okay?” lucien asks. he was above you in the sprawling grass of the autumn court, in one of the autumn estate’s many gardens. he caged you between his arms as you lied on your back in the soft grass, amongst the leaves. the soft breeze brushed past your naked bodies, making your nipples peak. “yes.. i’m perfect, lucien.” you leaned forward to press your lips against his smooth, sun-kissed skin as he gently thrusted into you, sighing and mewling in pleasure. you embraced each other as he picked up the pace a bit, keeping a steady balance between going fast and deep. you moaned, a serene feeling spreading over your body, making you smile. his hand intertwined with yours as his cock began twitching inside of you. “god.. beautiful, i’m gonna cum.” you squeezed his hand as he leaned down to kiss your neck, sucking it gently. you smiled like a fox, leaning up to whisper in his ear. “let’s cum together.” and that you did. your words pushed him over the edge and he pulled out as you reached your peak, spilling his load all over your stomach and beneath breasts. he was breathing hard as he laid himself next to you, gathering you up in his arms. “i love you.” you smiled. “i love you too, lucie. but you’re crushing my leg.”

𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬 —

• breeds. you.

• LOVES to fuck you on his fathers throne.

• loves to parade you around the autumn court and take you with him when he goes to visit the night court. you’re just so pretty, how could he not show off his beautiful mate?

• is surprisingly gentle and caring behind closed doors. is obsessed with you.

• tits. loves tits. basic boy. boobs = happiness.

“there you go.. ride me, whore. fuck.” eris’ calloused hands grasped roughly at your boobs as you rode him, making you moan and whimper. “eris..” you mewled. he grunted and moved his hands down to your hips. he gripped them and began thrusting upwards into you, hard. the sound of your wet cunt reverberated against the walls, echoing around the throne room. eris took you in his father’s throne for the third time that week while beron was away attending business that neither of you cared to know the reason for. “fuck. you like that? like it when i fuck this perfect cunt?” he asked, tweaking your nipples between his fingers roughly before taking one into his mouth, sucking harshly. “yes!” you cried, grasping onto his shoulders as you slammed your hips down onto him each time he thrusted up. “that’s a good whore.. want me to fill your womb? make you bare my heir? huh?” you nodded your head, unintelligible nonsense about wanting to be a good incubator for him falling from your lips. he smirked as he watched you babble and felt your hips stutter as you neared climax, your walls tightening around him. “good.. take it, slut.”

[autumn-oceanopromises]

Notes For "How To Suppress Women's Writing" - Joanna Russ; Foreword and Prologue

So, it turns out that the other seminal book of feminist writing, the book by Joanna Russ, her Essays, arrived yesterday, with the excited feeling that being able to read Somebody's Trying To Kill Me And I Think It's My Husband: The Modern Gothic brings with it, but this book is the only one available in the local central libraries, so fortunately it's the one I didn't buy! I have a month with this, so I'm going through it slowly and deliberately (and first). The ebook is out, so clearly someone else is reading this too. This book seems to be about analyzing the patterns that Western (white, educated, industrial, rich) society uses to suppress women's writing. So I'm kind of keen to get into it, because it's also relevant to the Courtesan universe, so, hey. To really explore carving out agency in tiny boxes, I need to set the boxes first!

I won't go into too much detail on the text itself per se. I do want to go through this chapter by chapter (on here!) as a summary of my notes from the chapter, my thoughts on the notes from the chapter, and kinda do the same for the other nonfiction books I've borrowed from the library. Probably, nobody's going to read this, but solidifying learning is always nice and helpful. That's why it's my notes. The quotes are how I take notes, though mostly on my phone - I wish I'd learned that in college a few decades ago, though admittedly phone etiquette was different then.

This isn't a book review, though it might slip into that format every now and then. I'm not judging the quality of this work. I don't think I'm suited to - not from any wokeness or anything, though I am conscious and wary of that - but just because the skill level of the writer is so far out of my grasp and reach. This is Part 1 of my notes learning from reading this book (watch as I never write Part 2). Click on if you're interested.

*Disclaimer & trigger warning: As a cishet POC male 1.5-gen immigrant raised in a primarily Western environment to baby boomer conservative parents, but born in a conservative Asian country, I may hold some attitudes which are unsavory or may trigger; all opinions are personal. This was written in 2023. *This is done with the intention of writing better, more true-to-life, more incisive narratives, perspectives and dialogue. Any personal growth is incidental.*

Foreword

The foreword was written by Jessa Crispin, to which I'll just link the Google search. I'll be honest. Never heard of her before this, though Bookslut, her publication, sounds... kinda familiar. They closed in 2016, apparently.

There's a passage in here which I think is unbelievably poignant and accurate, which given it was written in 2018 is, uh, current with the times. (what do you mean 2018 was 5 years ago?) I'm just gonna quote it.

"...[Russ] understands how a fragile Self will need to define itself against an Other... That need for the Other to be a specific something, so that in reflection the Self can be something better... Creates a lens that makes it impossible to see the Other clearly without risking the Self."

I bolded the stuff that's the most relevant, the most groundbreaking bit to me, though all three quotes there are all really important.

"She understands how a fragile Self will need to define itself against an Other..."

The first part is kinda obvious to me as I am right now, but it sets up the next bits. Of course a fragile self-image, an ego, will need to set up an enemy. A cause always props up an insecurity. You hitch your wagon to the racing horse that is independent of you, greater than you, and you speak with its voice rather than your voice. This applies to the radicals on both sides, democratic and conservative, by the by. Insecurity, inside or external, hitched to a cause. We can see this in MAGA folk, and also in TERFs, and also in frankly speaking, radical and/or uninformed feminists across the spectrum. Activists in general, too. Without an enemy to fight, who are they? (And by setting them up like that, they're defined as the Other compared to my-Self, which is therefore perceived as better, yada yada.)

There's this thing from the Oral History of John Wick, which I'll cover too in the same way as this at some point, where it states a classification of a movie, any medium, really, is where if you take out all the elements of that genre, is there a movie left? If there isn't a movie, then it's solidly in that genre.

If you take out all the enemies in MAGAs and TERFs or radfems, radicals in general, do they have anything left?

That need for the Other to be a specific something, so that in reflection the Self can be something better...

There's a bit earlier of how cishet, rich, white men (not just dudes or dudebros) - the ones who want to be seen as reasonable, specifically - are still considered the voice of universal reason in Western society. Concurrently, (Hi, ADHD!) I'm also watching a course, in bits and pieces, done by one of those guys.

(I won't say which course because I'm 30% certain I got in the back way and I'm watching this stuff for free when it should be paid for. it's a marketing course, so, niggly niggly...)

Well, no, not done by one of those guys - done in the image, in the idol, in the name, of one of those guys. The actual person talking is one of his personality-cult followers, who is his own cult leader. I say this with absolutely no vitriol. It is what it is. These days, everything in social media is personality-driven, everything about success is personality-driven, but the personality needs to be a very specific type. And one of the key first phrases of it that I picked out is "You gotta build your audience: you gotta know whom you're attracting, and whom you're repelling. You've got to set up the Other - so that there's something that Your People are fighting against. And that'll draw Your People to you." And so this quote from Jenna Crispin really makes sense. Really makes sense. Cult leader man is "what works and how this works" - Jenna Crispin just told me why.

We're in a world now where insecurity is bred into us. Choosing to put out a perfect persona is an insecure act. The perfect persona is rewarded. But anyway. That's its own diatribe. Moving on.

Creates a lens that makes it impossible to see the Other clearly without risking the Self.

That this making of an enemy means that the perception of the enemy is distorted, tied up in self-perception and self-esteem, is just an interesting one altogether to play with.

"There is nothing more comfortable than not thinking." - Simone Weil

Yeah, no kidding. But also... more than just the obvious. It's a drive for comfort in an insecure, unfamilar, antagonistic, violent world. This applies to Youtube and digital applications, too. I don't remember where, but there was a thing that said - o. The 100 fanfiction by Chash. (And also an interview by Sam Reich and Brendan Mulligan, wrt Dropout.) woops. still, applicable - when people make digital content that's a success, people search by "feel", and that locks creators into doing the same thing, over and over. It's like a prison that gets smaller and smaller. But yes, that search for comfort is search by "feel". And that's what creators are looking to elicit, right? That "feel". Emotions, that's what really good creators do. By creating a singular experience, they use emotions and imagination and all of that to create a singular memory that moves people to action via shifting the levers of emotion.

(I'm wondering whether my main, personal, conflict is really a drive for novelty and a drive for comfort. I have this feeling it's not quite? Because it's a drive for achievement and a drive for comfort. I'd like to hitch both horses to my wagon, but they seem mutually exclusive right now.)

One of my friends is studying eliciting emotions in a social media context. The easiest emotion to elicit is, of course, anger and fear. It's not hard: exaggerate, go for the most salient and extreme. Stuff directed at the Self elicits fear. Stuff directed at the Other, and the creation of the Other, elicits anger. Super simple. Not easy, it's never easy. I should probably do it at some point. (Though, the suspension of fear - creating a low but persistent level of dread? Awesome.)

I'm more interested in the transformations, specifically transformations of anger to something more peaceful and something kind and calm, or genuinely happy. How do you change anger to ecstasy? Positive awe. Wrench open the horizons. Negative awe and you go straight into panic. Stuff like that - transformations, sublimations.

One of the ways to suppress women's writing, which Jenna Crispin mentions in this foreword, is to cut exceptional creators off from the roots and stem.

"Russ has no mothers, no daughters." Excise them entirely from the lineage. "Like Emily Dickinson: she came out of nowhere, a stunning jewel, and faded into obscurity just as quickly." We see this more than in women's writing - suppression of POC writing and queer writing is exactly the same pattern, and I honestly think it super super super harms literature in general, this kind of suppression. (I, to be honest, have my issues with POC as a term, given it's a very American white definition - you separate by Othering yourself, but ok) As that Oral History of John Wick says, which, fuck, I guess this has become a comparative post: "like in animation, it's the stuff between the keyframes that really make the animation run." All the less good, the serviceable stuff, the evolution that made the trope popular and familiar and understood.

Jenna Crispin also mentions that "it's a cliche that literature builds empathy". It can help us along, but we're in an age where you get to choose what you like to read. Empathy needs to be worked for, opening horizons due to reading a wider breadth of protagonists. People aren't beholden to book lists or what's in your local library anymore. And most people will echo chamber themselves because it's more comfortable not thinking. You can read all the books in the world but if they're all the same formula, you don't actually go anywhere.

The last line of this foreword niggles at me. It's "We are all her daughters." It aroused disquiet in me. It felt, very strongly, very clearly, that this book was not meant for me, because I am not anyone's daughter. Despite the fact that Jenna Crispin, less than two lines ago, mentioned not to focus on name, gender, worldview. To think.

It's an interesting one. I guess I can be someone's daughter. I'm just viscerally offended by the assumption, somehow, despite being quite happy to be feminine, otherwise. It's an attitude in myself that is... huh.

Prologue

From this point forward everything is written by Joanna Russ, in 1983.

The prologue opens with "Frument", an act by the alien GLOTOLOGs. A quick google search, because I swear to god I have heard of "frument" before, reveals a grain-based porridge called "frumenty". Similarly, the closest thing to glotolog is "Glottolog", a database of the world's languages. I think I'm remembering the dancing aliens of my first year undergrad psych class. It was a terrible analogy that involved sex as a resource that only one gender could give. I don't remember whether that lecturer was male or female, but it was a terrifying metaphor. Stunning in its horror and implications. Especially that you had to study that and spit it out for university-accredited tests to be considered "correct".

"Historians of the majority ignore literature efforts or condemn them as mediocre, lacking in structure, of technical interest merely, or above all, lacking in the proper spirit."

...which brings "Glotologgish" into intergalactic parlance as "information control without direct censorship," with a side note of "ridiculous self-deception bolsterd by widespread and elaborate social fictions leading to the massive distortion of information."

We're seeing it now, here, in the world - information control via mass bot and cash for shitty clickbait. No direct censorship, but if you direct the boxes well enough and offer good enough bait, you can mass information control via self-deception, easy enough. Radicalization, echo chambers, along the same track.

In a nominally egalitarian society, the ideal situation is that members of the "wrong" groups have the freedom to engage in literature or media creation, but they don't, which means that they can't. Except people will. Make the freedom, therefore, with as many barriers to entry, and then discredit, ignore, condemn, dismiss and belittle the stuff that comes out afterward. If it's properly done, then the social situation becomes that the "wrong" people are free to do it, but few do, and those who do "do it badly", so there's no point in doing it.

Methods of doing so include:

informal prohibitions (including discouragement, the inaccessibility of materials and training)

Denying the authorship of the work in question

Belittlement of the work itself

Isolation of the work from the tradition that it belongs, making the subsequent production anomalous

assertions that the work indicates the author's bad character (hello, reverse cancel culture)

assertions that since the author is of bad or scandalous character that the work should not have done at all (hello, cancel culture)

assertions that the work is of scandalous or bad topic and thus should not have been done at all

Or ignoring the entire thing as not existing, the works, the workers, the tradition.

Aaaand that's it. for the prologue and the foreword. Ooh, I'm looking forward to the chunks that come next.

General Takeaways

I think, in context with the Courtesan universe (it makes me feel comfortable to set everything in there, okay???) this is the stuff I'd like to explore:

Who's the enemy? The setup of the Other in a personality cult. Being a personality cult leader while still following other personality cult leaders, all the way up. Having courtesans be influencers as well as being other artist types. Maybe the American house, or the modern house, maybe, is almost all influencers? Ha.

Tying self-perception into creating a fake and distorted Other, an exploration of self-identity and indoctrination. Propping up self-perception via Othering someone else.

Information control through deliberately and referentially setting up echo chambers

Someone hitching their insecurity to a cause, and causing a whole lotta harm while doing so

A character deliberately preying on someone else's insecurity to tie them to a cause

"Freedom" that is not freedom at all - via deliberate scandal and bad topic and information control. Courtesan is at the core of it about parasociality taken real, love work in place of or adjacent to sex work, so this is very much in line with the underlying theme of it.

I really need to watch more of that course, dammit.

Excise the root and stem, to make someone a singular existence, isolated from the tradition that held them. There's already something in the timeline here that has context: a male courtesan that made free, Jingyun.

[pattytempleton]

On a motherfuckin’ Mary Oliver kick, as happens every other year or so. I CLEARED THE SHELF at the library. They were just waiting there for me to nab them. After abt ten books of Oliver, I am going to throw myself at Le Guin. What a good goddamn not even autumn yet.

[elissareads]

I’ve become a book slut. 

That is, I used to be very book monogamous. I’d read one, maybe two if one of the titles was nonfiction, and slowly consume the one book over a course of days. It was slow and nice and very focused. 

Suddenly, I want to read multiple titles at once. I have started reading one book, stopping in the middle, starting another, and maybe yet another. I read them in jags. Then I finish one and finish the next and finish the last. And it all works. I thought initially that I wouldn’t be able to keep them compartmentalized in my brain, but I could keep track of many TV shows, so why not books? 

I’ve started doing this now, after thirty-odd years of living on this planet and being able to read, and my book consumption has gone up. Which is good, because my to-read pile is dangerously high. 

[smutup]

𝔽𝕒𝕓 𝔽𝕖𝕓𝕣𝕦𝕒𝕣𝕪 🩶🖤 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕎𝕣𝕒𝕡 𝕌𝕡 💋 I was shocked to realize that every book this month was an arc. Very cool. Very busy. It was an amazing month of reading, though. There was no stopping me from re-reading For The Fans. I had a variety of everything that I like... smutty, dirty, dark, twisted, & deep love. Go check out these amazing books out if you haven't already Cheers to March ❤️ . . . . #readingwrapup #februaryreads #varietyisthekeytostimulation #bookishlove #bookslut #arcs #bookfriends #smutupandread https://www.instagram.com/p/CpRcKBDAi4U/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[theguildedtypewriter]

The Spookiest Day of the Year is almost here!⏰ Get on those Halloween vibes with some demons by downloading Affinity for Pain today!😈🖤🎃 "I was fortunate enough to receive an ARC of Affinity for Pain and I am so, so amazed! Affinity for Pain is such a well written and amazing story, but definitely check trigger warnings!! It only took a couple of pages for me to fall in love with the characters and the story itself. I mean, you had me at demon assassin… 😏 When brutal killer becomes morally grey and a bit vengeful there is nothing better. There’s fated love, gladiator esque fighting and survival, sarcasm, dark humor, drama, and tension. SO. MUCH. TENSION. It’s such a captivating read and the spice is 🔥🔥 The level of commitment given to these characters and the stories of what they went through is beyond anything I expected and I’m so grateful for the inclusion of what it can feel like to be holding onto and processing trauma." -Aly, Goodreads Hope Turner is the ideal human-hunting assassin, & she is damn good at her job. A daughter of the Chakal, demons whose females lack physical sensation, Hope was always brutally efficient in her work. It all changes when she's assigned to take down Ciaran O'Connor – a stubborn, strong-willed bodyguard w/ a dark past & severe PTSD. He also happens to be her soulmate. When omaeriku – an inescapable soulmate bond – takes hold, Hope is hit with emotion & physical sensation for the first time. Finding herself unable to kill Ciaran & ending up on her former boss’s hit list, they must escape into hiding. Immediately, the chemistry between them is electric. However, they must find a way to take down Marcus Dentry, their new common enemy- Hope’s former boss & Ciaran’s former captor & torturer. As they spend more time together, the newfound emotion & pain from the soulmate bond overwhelms Hope. Can she learn to handle her sudden emotions before it drives her away from the one person who makes her feel, & can they track down Marcus before he gets to them first? #smuttbook #spicybook #paranormalromance #enemiestolovers #romancebooks #paranormalromancebooks #spicybookrecs #bookstagram #bookslut #spicybookstagram (at The Forgotten Realms) https://www.instagram.com/p/CkOLy4BLRk-/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[biteofcherry]

Ransom + free use 😏

When Ransom first mentioned free use and what he found hot about it, you were spent and draped over his body and your brain didn't restore yet to proper functioning.

They way he talked about taking you whenever he felt the urge made you resonate with this desire.

What you didn't take into consideration, however, was that free use meant anytime anywhere.

Which was why you were currently pressed against the bookshelves in the Thrombey's house famous library, Ransom's cock driving into you from behind, while a celebratory party for his new book release was in full swing.

Your hands couldn't find purchase, clawing at the wooden shelves, against the fragile covers of the volumes. Edge of one of the shelves was cutting into your boobs, just above your nipples.

In the shiny trinket that stood on one of the shelves - Harlan's engraved, silver award - you saw the reflection of the library door.

Wide open. Inviting any prying eyes to witness your indecency.

"That is, my little bookslut," Ransom chuckled as your pussy clenched around him on a particular hard thrust.

"Though it's never about the books, right?" He pressed forward, making the whole bookcase shake from the way he slammed your body into it with each snap of his hips.

"It's about the cock. You're just a needy slut for fictional cock."

Ransom's teeth grazed your skin as he mouthed along your shoulder. His breath a hot waft weakening your knees.

"But it's not better than mine, huh?" He wasn't fishing for compliments. As much as he liked having his ego stroked, Ransom knew very well that you worshipped his dick.

"No, never." You keened, tilting your head to the side and inviting his mouth to mark your neck. "Nothing is better than your cock! Love it, love it-"

"Oh, I know, my little whore." Instead of a bite, he kissed your pulse point softly.

"Come on it, then." He ordered, gripping one of your wrists and guiding your hand down between your thighs.

"Cream all over that cock, before we go back downstairs and you try convincing our guests that this new romance book you've reviewed is hotter than my cum dripping down your thigh."

Ransom Drysdale Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[chris-slut]

hii love i have a request! chris knows you love to read romance but he never knew that u liked reading smut. when he finds out, he gets a little turned on..

𓈒𓏸 𖦹 lost in the fire ⸝⸝ 💌 .ᐟ ׄ ׅ ྀ

pairing; dom!chris x bookslut!reader

summary; you tell your boyfriend, chris, your going to hop in the shower. while in there, he notices your bookshelf in front of him. chris has always thought you read normal romance book’s— so he of course picks one up and slowly skims the pages. his eyes widen as he notices what you’ve been hiding from him.

! chris p.o.v x 3rd person p.o.v !

!warnings!; SMUTTY SMUT, oral (fem!receiving), p in v, protected sex, blindfold, handcuffs, pet names, (baby, slut, whore, ma.), overstimulation.

authors note; i’m sorry if this isn’t as smutty or too smutty— but it just seemed right for the idea you know 🤷🏼‍♀️! also i absolutely HATE this.

imani = pink

chris = blue

book characters = purple

“CHRIS, BABY,” imani calls out to chris, his head turning around to face her. “yeah?” he questions her. “i’m gonna go shower— just stay there okay?” imani mumbles to chris and he nods at the girl. she gets up and grabs her towel, swinging it over her shoulder. imani walks into the bathroom and lock’s the door, chris turning his phone on right after.

after 15 minutes, chris gets bored and turns his phone off. he walks to the closest thing next to him— her bookshelf. his long fingers run across every cover of the book, looking for one that he hasn’t seen before. he picks up a book called “shred of decency” and skips to the page she left off on.

“i want this morgan” , “what do you want?” say me. remind me we’re meant for each other and that we can forget our lousy morning and the rest of our troubles. “to suck you.”

chris’s eyes widen as his cheeks flush a deep red color. has my girlfriend been reading smut this whole time? just right next to me in bed every night? chris’s eyes scan at the tabbed pages, flipping through them.

he sees pages with sentences like “idea for chris,” or “want to do.” why hasn’t she ever asked me about doing any of this? was she to nervous to ask?

* CHRIS’S P.O.V *

‘WHAT THE hell. no way my girlfriend has been reading this shit our whole relationship and said nothing. i mean— do i not give her enough?’ i look to the side and open her drawer, a pink puffy set of handcuffs and a silk black blindfold appearing in-front of my eyes. we’ve had things like this around just incase something came up and we were in the mood. but, obviously if she thinks i’m not giving her enough— tonight will definitely show her i am able to.

the bathroom door unlocks as i quickly shove both of the items into my back pockets, turning around to see her in just a towel. my cheeks go back to the red color they were before as my cock aches for attention in my pants. god she looks so fuckable. “chris, baby, your staring—“ she says as my hands land right to her waist, my nails practically digging into her sides.

“those books, the page— your a slut imani,” i mumble to her, placing a wet kiss on her neck and biting down gently. her breathe hitches when i do so, letting a whimper slide past her lips. my fingers slide down from her waist to the center of her core, her juices immediately coating my fingers. “so fucking wet and i haven’t even done a thing— such a good girl for me,” i mumble against her once more, leaving a bite mark against the soft skin along her collar bone. “and these, these are finally getting used tonight,” i say to her once more, taking the pink fluffy handcuffs and white silk blindfold out my pocket. i quickly put them back in to slide my hands up and down her thighs.

imani sucks her breathe in as her cheeks turn red. “chris.. we’ve never done anything like this before— are you sure about it?” she asks me in a concerned tone. “after those smutty books i saw baby, i’ve never been more sure,” i say to her, grabbing her wrists and pinning them up against her head, trailing the sloppiest kisses down to the spot just below her belly button.

* 3RD PERSON P.O.V ! *

“tell me what you want baby, use your words,” chris mutters against imani’s stomach. a whimper falls from her mouth as she looks at the boy through her eyelashes. “please.. please just make me feel good chris,” she begs as a smirk plasters on the boys. chris grabs her by her waist and places her down on the bed, angling her where her hands are above her head and against the headboard.

chris grabs the pink fluffy handcuffs from his pocket as he puts her wrist together, locking it onto the headboard. he quickly grabs the blindfold from his pocket after and ties it across imani’s eyes, blocking out her vision. a whimper escapes her lips as chris goes down slowly, inching closer and closer to her soaked core.

“fuck chris- don’t be a tease please..” imani tells him but he smacks her thigh. “don’t tell me what to do you whore,” he spits out at the girl as he places a bite against the inside of her thigh. he licks the spot and goes to the other one, repeating the same thing.

imani bucks her hips up. chris quickly holds down her waist as his nails dig into her hips. “don’t fucking move, you got me?” chris demands, imani nods her head and lets chris continue.

he moves his face right above her soaked core, his hot breath beating onto it. chris slowly licks upwards as whimpers begin falling from imani’s mouth.

“f-fuck..” she says as chris dives in, nose rubbing against her as he sucks on her clit. “taste so fuckin’ good ma,” chris tells her as he groans.

he continues sucking on her until he starts feeling imani’s legs shake. “oh shit- gonna cum chris!” she moans out.

before anything could come out, chris pulls away and begins taking his sweatpants and underwear off. he grabs the condom that’s next to him and rips it open with his teeth, sliding it over his length. “chris- what the-“ before imani could complain any longer chris plunged into her.

a loud pornographic moan escapes imani’s mouth as she tries to get out of the handcuffs. “fuck chris— please! to much!” imani cries out as chris goes thrusts in and out of her harshly.

“cmon baby, the tabs you have on those books? the sentences you have written down? you were begging for this. are you really gonna beg to stop?” chris tells her as he slowly pulls out, just incase she was sure.

“no chris.. fuck— don’t stop,” imani accepts her defeat. hearing this scentence, chris wastes no time plunging back into her.

the room is filled with slapping noises and whimpers from the pair.

“chris.. i’m cumming!” imani screams out as chris’s thrusts go faster. “fuck, so am i baby! cum with me alright?” chris says.

imani scream-moans outloud as she feels herself release onto him, chris realessing into the condom not the long after her.

he takes the condom off and ties it, walking to the bathroom and throwing it in the trashcan.

“here you go baby,” chris whispers as he takes both the blindfold and the handcuffs off. “was it to much?” he asks while putting the items away.

“it’s never to much with you, trust me.”

[ghcstcd]

I love your illustration of Dew with a book...what IS he reading?! Or writing? Is our Dewcifer a bookslut? Because there is nothing sexier than a bookslut.

He's 100% a slut for a good book. It's common to catch Dewdrop on his breaks outside, curled up with a book in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He's the odd metal head you'd find browsing the poetry section of the bookshop.

[jkottke]

I’m a megafan of the newsletter The Culture We Deserve, by Jessa Crispin (formerly of Bookslut). I spent most of an entire therapy session discussing a line and a half from an installment a few weeks back: “…online creators need to start developing a healthy amount of contempt for their audiences. Because your audience has contempt for you!” Pairs well with Becca Rothfeld’s essay on condescension in the Yale Review. (“Why do public intellectuals condescend to their readers?”)

[theangiediary]

@stanfordsweater WW ask

Tumblr ate the original message, so reconstructing here.

happy wincest wednesday angie 🥳 what do you think is sam's favourite funky little costume that dean's ever worn, and vice versa?

Can I be contrary and say.. Sam doesn’t actually like seeing Dean in costume. At most, he’s neutral/occasionally spares a laugh to tease Dean, but it’s not really something he thinks about. Because really Sam delights knowing Dean and seeing other sides of him. Not a character. He’s so used to the mask Dean puts on everyday being the brave hero, brotherfather, etc, that there’s not much appeal to a fake character.

I’m thinking of several scenes: 

the (deleted, and then added in later seasons) scene where Sam says he doesn’t like Halloween for general “not a costume” fan

Fresh Blood where he tells Dean to stop acting like he’s not afraid of his upcoming deal because Sam can tell

Faith when he got to hen Dean for a change and took... a bit of an excessive amount of delight in that, imo*

soulless Sam’s reaction to Dean handling Bobby John (new paternal side)

in the renfest battle, Sam enjoyed Dean’s joy, not the costume itself (although it looked damn good).

*IF I was going to go into what headcanon personally delights me.... it’s not really a costume, but I would say Sam would get an uncomfortable boner seeing Dean in a hospital gown. Like, after knowing that Dean’ll be fine, visiting his hospital room and hnnng. It shouldn’t be hot! Sam knows that! But he’s laying there all vulnerable and grumpy and his dick’s this close to being exposed to everyone.....

Dean would notice. It’d take him a second to work out what was happening (he overestimates Sam’s emotional reactions so he’d first think his brother was just especially upset about the injury), but once he figures it out Dean would nick a couple from the room before checkout and instigate the roleplay with him. Something dumb like send him out for dinner, and then soak in ice water for a bit, make himself almost sick before slipping into the gown and waiting for Sam in their shared bed.

Because Dean however, does like seeing Sam in costume. He’s a simple guy- hot person + slutty outfit = yes. Also, opposite to Sam, Dean likes escaping in movies where good wins, evil loses, and so I think he likes playing pretend more overall.

angel/demon sex dream

comments about Jason Voorhees

cowboy fetish

renfest delight

thinking Sam was cute in Our Town

Dean Smith’s everything

So any of them that Sam looked good in, Dean is down. Doesn’t matter if Dean gets to dress up as well, or if Sam performs for him. Full gimp stuff probably not, and lawyer/cop might make him. I don’t know, sad? Reminder of Stanford; too close to what Sam almost is (when separated from Dean). Professor!Sam maybe, especially during the later seasons. They are both kinda booksluts. Naughty student roleplay definitely. He is. So weird. About high school😬. Ooh, spanking, anyone? 

The yogi look was hot, but idk maybe Sam needs to respect the character he’s dressed as to buy into it a little bit? Cowboys he’d put up with for Dean’s sake and yeah they’re rough and masculine, but for all his Organic Farmers Market arc of late seasons, he’d eyeroll “weed jesus” men hard.

Hmm, that might be my fun, totally unsupported scenario for Dean actually. First time he got his dick sucked by a dude was in highschool, high as fuck in the back of his friend’s van, Dark Side playing. Dean recreates this memory with Sam, who goes absolutely wild with possession, gonna drive any thoughts of Kyle or anyone else out of Dean's pretty little head. Funny version: Sam gets hit way harder by the weed (low tolerance) and thinks he’s championing this shit, but in reality his timing’s off, no suction, etc, while Dean’s fondly looking down at him in his lap and petting his hair. Uh. The costume part is tie dye t-shirts, a headband for Sammy, and hemp bracelets for Dean.

[morallysuspicious]

Running on 3 hours of sleep and a 20oz cup of coffee does not mix well when you’re trying to come up with analects for class. My anxiety about embarrassing myself is in full blast.

Being an English Major sucks sometimes.

@psycho-bookslut is my book account.

[the-vampires-of-lesbos]

We're a book club on fable, and a dorm on Hexrpg.com with fanfic recommendations. Come join us!

@psycho-bookslut

@lizza-yarnscaping

[enron-intern-1998]

Show me your shelves booksluts