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A Humble Peddler of Weres

@thebibliosphere / thebibliosphere.tumblr.com

Joy ✧ She/Her/Hers ✧ Queer ✧ International Bestselling Author ✧ Vampire Romancer Extraordinaire ✧ Chronic illness & Disability Advocate ✧ Co-host of The AyeSphere Podcast ✧ See pinned post for FAQ

Welcome to the blog of international bestselling author Joy Demorra, aka the Crucifix Nail Nipples Editor.

This is my personal blog where I commit word crimes.

If you're looking for my chronic illness and disability advocacy posts, or you want to block them (fair), the tag I use is #chronic health tag.

You can also peruse my FAQ.

My international bestselling debut romance novel, Hunger Pangs: True Love Bites (Phangs), is out now and available in eBook, Paperback, and Audio.

Set in a pseudo-regency meets fake-Victorian Gaslamp Fantasy world, complete with gothic castles, enchanted forests, and just a smidge of industrial coal dust. Phangs has been described as "like reading the queer, goth love child of Terry Pratchett meets Jane Austen," and no amount of marketing buzzwords I say can ever top that.

If any of that sparks your interest, you can:

Why are there two versions and what's the difference between them? Glad you asked! You can also check out individual content tags and heat ratings on my website at www.joydemorra.com

If you've seen my dog, Holly Mop, trending around the place and would like to see more of her, her tag is #holly mop. You can also now follow her blog at @holly-mop; we just use it to upload pictures.

Other places you can find me online include: Ao3 , BlueSky Pillowfort, and Instagram. If you like what I do and would like to see more of it, you can support me on Patreon, Ko-Fi, Payhip, or through my Throne Wishlist.

You can also find me hanging around Twitch on Sundays, where I co-host @theayesphere podcast with @ayeforscotland and sometimes play games. Feel free to come hang out; we're always happy for new people to natter with.

If you've made it this far, thanks for reading and happy scrolling!

Additional image IDs under cut due to length.

if you ever find yourself thinking “wow I scraped the bottom of the barrel with my energy with that and came out okay!” that’s the devil talking. you did not come out okay. you borrowed energy from the future. you will repay it if you don’t rest and replenish the borrowed energy first.

this one took off quickly - are you guys ok

WIZARD PSA: Chronomancy might be weird and confusing, but one of the few solid rules of the discipline is keep your promises. Time is a library, and you don't want to meet the librarian.

Context:

The original video, for anyone who hasn't seen it:

And the relevant album cover:

Sessler was a teenager when "We're Not Gonna Take It" it was on the charts. Probably had MTV so he saw the video.

No fuckin' idea how he thought it was in support of "traditional American values."

Never not reblog. Dee Snider is iconic and queer as fuck for a cishet man.

-fae

No one disrespects my man Dee in this house.

Never forget when he sat in front of a congressional hearing about Lewd Music Corrupting the Youth and completely shut that shit down in the most professional manner that no member of that committee expected from a hair metal musician. They thought they'd get easy points off of a dumb metalhead and this man not only knew exactly what the fuck he was talking about, he tore their arguments apart.

DUDE THE VIDEOOO

For those unfamiliar with this ICON

This is why my working definition of queer is "queerness is that which accepts queerness."

It encompasses a radical welcome and celebration of things that deviate from "the norm" and a fierce willingness to defend them from people who think mere deviance is worthy of vicious and violent bullying.

Dee Snider is the embodiment of "Queer as in fuck you."

I love seeing this post make the rounds

dee snider is a fucking icon, man

Right wingers are incapable of creating anything of worth or value

They do not create art, literature, culture

Even most of their ideas are stolen

The only thing right wingers create is death and suffering.

They do nothing but take from others

They drain the world of life, while draining life from the world itself. There is no benefit to anyone other than themselves as a result of these actions.

There's a word in nature for such a creature

And that word is "Parasite"

Right wingers steal art, culture, music and ideas from those BETTER and SUPERIOR to them, because right wingers are a fucking parasite species that is a pest infestation upon the earth

If I had a dollar for every time someone didn’t know I’m Joy Demorra, I’d have many dollars because I’m bad at marketing lmao

But yeah, hi, it me.

This is why the books take so long, I’m the bitch constantly fighting for my life on main. Bet some of those themes make sense now.

I feel like I say this ad nauseam, but every time I worry I'm too annoying about promoting my work, someone always comments something along the lines of "I've been following you for over a decade, what do you mean you wrote an international bestselling book?"

And I'm like, welp, time to reblog some stuff, I guess ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

You what

I... okay, hold on. I've got a copy-paste response for this...

(ID in alt)

Hi, I'm Joy Demorra, international bestselling author and general disaster.

This is my book. Hunger Pangs: True Love Bites is the first book in the Hunger Pangs series, a queer, polyamorous, paranormal, gaslamp slow-burn romance featuring vampires, werewolves, and various other creatures that go bump in the night.

It started out life as a Tumblr shit post and became an international bestseller within several hours of pre-orders going up. No one was more surprised than me.

It features Nathan, a deaf, disabled werewolf newly returned from war, and Vlad, a neurodivergent mad scientist vampire trying to unionize the workforce of the island in between tripping over all his various ongoing projects. (free healthcare, free schooling, y’know, small hobbies)

The other main character is Ursula, an all-powerful [REDACTED] working to save the world from imminent ecological disaster. The main romance arc of book one focuses on Vlad x Nathan, with Ursula forming her own relationships with them alluded to in the next book.

No love triangles here. Just three highly competent bisexuals sharing the same brain cell the closer they are to each other.

The world is set in a pseudo-regency meets fake Victorian Gaslamp Fantasy world, complete with gothic castles, enchanted forests, and just a smidge of industrial coal dust.

One of my favorite reviews ever described it as "the queer, goth love child of Terry Pratchett meets Jane Austen," so if that sounds interesting to you, you can check out my links below.

Why are there two versions, and what's the difference between them? Glad you asked! You can also find content tags on my website at www.joydemorra.com if you want to find out more.

I'd put them on the book itself, but Amazon would pitch a fit.

So, yeah. I wrote a book. I'm writing several more. I'm just recovering from almost dying in the same year I published the book. Because that was also a thing. Anyway. ✨Book✨

#OP should write a book — good news!

Do you think Bruce Wayne would flirt with Benoit Blanc?

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I think if Bruce ever found himself in a situation to meet Benoit Blanc, to his great chagrin, it’d be as Brucie Wayne. He’d be on some rich fuck’s island under cover when a murder happens and it’d be killing him that he can’t break cover to get a closer look at the body. And then along comes Benoit Blanc and Bruce decides, well he’s Brucie right now, it’d be weird if he didn’t flirt a little.

And hey, who knows, if Blanc likes him maybe he’ll let Bruce tag along and get into places Brucie wouldn’t normally be if he wasn’t trying to seduce this weirdly accented, tall glass of deductive skills. (And maybe he’s enjoying it a little more than he should, but technically he’s on vacation so…)

Blanc, of course, catches on and thinks Bruce has something to hide and is keeping him close because he thinks he’s either the killer or in on it.

Except that’s not what the evidence or instincts are actually telling him. Not really.

But he also can’t ignore the fact that Bruce managed to trip and fall directly into the filing cabinet in the office, causing the drawer to fly open and reveal the evidence Blanc’s looking for. Or that the billionaire has a slightly delayed reaction to seeing blood. Not much, but enough for Blanc to notice.

There’s also the way he keeps making suggestions that on the surface seem benign, but are nevertheless intended to lead Blanc toward where his own instincts are telling him to look. So either Brucie is one of those killers who likes to be involved in the investigation because they want to make sure you’re noticing their ‘genius’ or because they think they can control the narrative by being helpful, or…

“Y’know something, Mister Wayne…”

“Benoit, please,” Bruce says with a slow, seductive smile that unfurls like silk over rich velvet. “How many times do I have to ask? Call me Bruce.”

“… Bruce. You’ve been so remarkably helpful.”

“Oh, you know me. I always aim to please.”

Bruce’s smile takes on an electric edge that makes Benoit’s thumb slide to the gold wedding band on his ring finger. He’s a married man, he’s a married man

“I can’t help but wonder, though,” Benoit says, matching Bruce’s smile for a knowing one of his own. “Don’t you get tired?”

His tone is off, he knows it is because Bruce’s expression doesn’t flicker, not even a jot. It’s just unnatural enough to be telling.

“Tired of what?” the younger man asks, just the right amount of cheerful confusion in his voice and an adorable title of his head like a puppy to make you miss the sharpness behind his eyes. The way his body is coiling tight. Ready for a fight.

“Of pretending,” Benoit says, lifting a cigar to his mouth, making a show of patting down his pockets for the lighter. “I know I surely do. It grates on a man, always being underestimated. Everyone thinking you’re not as sharp as you are. Not as clever, not as quick. It must be a relief, I think, to finally be seen…”

The hand that had been rummaging in his pocket shoots out, aiming for Bruce’s perfect face. Bruce deflects it, twisting Benoit’s hand in a viper-like move Benoit hasn’t seen since…

“Ra’s doesn’t train just anyone,” he says, acutely aware of how much Bruce’s expression has changed without so much of a flicker of muscle. How sharp and hard the angles of his face have become. How deadly. “I confess, I didn’t see it at first. You’re very good, Bruce. I never would have put two and two together if you hadn’t twisted Haggart’s elbow the way you did when he tried to grab Maxine.” He smiles self-deprecatingly. “Take that as a compliment from one detective to another… Batman.”

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#why is this making me think of the muppet/batman insanity fic

Oh, that’d be my writing style, lmao. I wrote that too.

You take it… and you own it.

[Pride (2014), dir. Matthew Warchus, wr. Stephen Beresford.]

We’re here, we’re queer, and you should live in fuckin fear.

Proud pervert, rebrobate, degenerate, queer, faggot, whatever you wanna call me to try and insult me, the answer is always “Yeah, I fucking know.”

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daysofxavierspast

“Yeah, I’m queer. And?”

Gods all bless you for that Bat/Blanc fic I did not know I needed in my life oh my fucking god yes boy!!!!!!

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Lmao, you’re welcome. Tumblr knows where to find me when it wants crack fic 🫡

Do you think Bruce Wayne would flirt with Benoit Blanc?

Avatar

I think if Bruce ever found himself in a situation to meet Benoit Blanc, to his great chagrin, it’d be as Brucie Wayne. He’d be on some rich fuck’s island under cover when a murder happens and it’d be killing him that he can’t break cover to get a closer look at the body. And then along comes Benoit Blanc and Bruce decides, well he’s Brucie right now, it’d be weird if he didn’t flirt a little.

And hey, who knows, if Blanc likes him maybe he’ll let Bruce tag along and get into places Brucie wouldn’t normally be if he wasn’t trying to seduce this weirdly accented, tall glass of deductive skills. (And maybe he’s enjoying it a little more than he should, but technically he’s on vacation so…)

Blanc, of course, catches on and thinks Bruce has something to hide and is keeping him close because he thinks he’s either the killer or in on it.

Except that’s not what the evidence or instincts are actually telling him. Not really.

But he also can’t ignore the fact that Bruce managed to trip and fall directly into the filing cabinet in the office, causing the drawer to fly open and reveal the evidence Blanc’s looking for. Or that the billionaire has a slightly delayed reaction to seeing blood. Not much, but enough for Blanc to notice.

There’s also the way he keeps making suggestions that on the surface seem benign, but are nevertheless intended to lead Blanc toward where his own instincts are telling him to look. So either Brucie is one of those killers who likes to be involved in the investigation because they want to make sure you’re noticing their ‘genius’ or because they think they can control the narrative by being helpful, or…

“Y’know something, Mister Wayne…”

“Benoit, please,” Bruce says with a slow, seductive smile that unfurls like silk over rich velvet. “How many times do I have to ask? Call me Bruce.”

“… Bruce. You’ve been so remarkably helpful.”

“Oh, you know me. I always aim to please.”

Bruce’s smile takes on an electric edge that makes Benoit’s thumb slide to the gold wedding band on his ring finger. He’s a married man, he’s a married man

“I can’t help but wonder, though,” Benoit says, matching Bruce’s smile for a knowing one of his own. “Don’t you get tired?”

His tone is off, he knows it is because Bruce’s expression doesn’t flicker, not even a jot. It’s just unnatural enough to be telling.

“Tired of what?” the younger man asks, just the right amount of cheerful confusion in his voice and an adorable title of his head like a puppy to make you miss the sharpness behind his eyes. The way his body is coiling tight. Ready for a fight.

“Of pretending,” Benoit says, lifting a cigar to his mouth, making a show of patting down his pockets for the lighter. “I know I surely do. It grates on a man, always being underestimated. Everyone thinking you’re not as sharp as you are. Not as clever, not as quick. It must be a relief, I think, to finally be seen…”

The hand that had been rummaging in his pocket shoots out, aiming for Bruce’s perfect face. Bruce deflects it, twisting Benoit’s hand in a viper-like move Benoit hasn’t seen since…

“Ra’s doesn’t train just anyone,” he says, acutely aware of how much Bruce’s expression has changed without so much of a flicker of muscle. How sharp and hard the angles of his face have become. How deadly. “I confess, I didn’t see it at first. You’re very good, Bruce. I never would have put two and two together if you hadn’t twisted Haggart’s elbow the way you did when he tried to grab Maxine.” He smiles self-deprecatingly. “Take that as a compliment from one detective to another… Batman.”

Hi, can you please remind me where you posted your Batmuppet fic in progress? I met a friend and mentioned it to them and they made a face that said "yes. gimmie." And I would like to link them.

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At present, Batmuppet only exists on my blog here.

But when I am done editing the *checks notes* 50k worth of fic it turned into, it'll get posted to my Ao3.

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