#a guide to punctuation

[blueengland]

A guide to punctuation!

. - end of sentence ... - trailing off (for dialogue use only) - - continued on next line/continued from previous line ! - shout !! - shock !!! - you are going to explode ? - question ?? - confused ??? - so confused you may die * - check bottom of the page for clarification " - bitch do I even have to say? & - replacement for 'and' ' - it's a fucking apostrophe : - this ; - only to be used in emoticons () - clarification in a sentence [] - only to be used in emoticons {} - what the fuck would this even be used for / - means either 'and' or 'or' , - breathe @ - only to be used when mentioning another user ~ - sexytalk *this whole thing is a joke btw use the punctuation however you wish

[burinazar]

mannn. i do feel like kind of bitchy on the occasions when i go to read a fic and then have to give up on it partway in because I can’t look past an avoidable recurring punctuation issue that irks my brain every time i see it and it’s everywhere and clearly isn’t a typo or style choice versus based on not knowing a punctuation rule. but like. i just can’t. i’m sorry

[nani-nonny]

Imagine writing a silly little fic about F!Leo fighting for his life in the final battle against the krang and as f!mikey conjures up the funky portal to the past, f!Draxum pops up like the woman in Ice Age and hands F!Leo a small bundle of cloth then pushes F!Leo into the portal but when he shows pops up on the other side back in time he’s a little late to the party, literally, and finds himself standing in the middle of the foot clan ceremony so he snatches the key, flips them off and makes a run for the new lair and hides the key in there only to find the bundle he had been carrying the whole time was a small little turtle tot barely the size of his palm so instead of facing the angst he instead struggles with being a new single parent and really big brother to the present turtles+april

Can you imagine?

[shredsandpatches]

Really amused at how annoyed past me got about this weird medieval punctuation practice but at the same time I still find it deeply relatable

[micahdotgov]

DISCLAIMER THIS IS ALL JUST MY PERSONAL OPINION PLEASE DONT KILL ME WITH HAMMERS

im aware this might get me torn apart, but i have to be honest and say that i was incredibly underwhelmed by the third doctor's era. i liked jon pertwee as the doctor (not as much as two but more than one), i liked liz and jo, and i especially liked the doctor and jo's relationship. and of course i liked the master and everything thoschei, i shouldn't have to even mention that. but with pretty much everything else, i was not a fan. i did have a couple serials i liked (the curse of peladon and invasion of the dinosaurs were my favourites), but generally i found the writing deeply mediocre. i also wasn't a fan of the new format, i like my doctor who to be about travelling through time and space in the tardis, not working with the military in some village in surrey. i don't enjoy media about the military, so i very quickly tired of almost every serial building up to a lot of soldiers shooting at some aliens/robots. i don't even particularly like the brigadier. i don't think the era was bad - except for death to the daleks, that was truly bad - i was just very disappointed, as i had expected to like it far more than i actually did.

[revelationoh]

i think it’s ridiculous that in 2023 we don’t have a consistent, reliable way to type out en- and em dashes in every single platform, but the visceral reaction i just had to someone telling me to change it back to a hyphen was maybe a little overboard

[miyamiwu]

For Reference

Chicago Style

This text . . . is split in the middle.

This is a complete sentence. . . . This is another complete sentence.

Oxford Style

This text is being paused in the middle... for special effect!

This text...is trailing off...in speech.

(Can somebody give an example of how Oxford treats ellipsis between two complete sentences? I don't know if they use four dots or not.)

[cosmo-clown]

i wonder if these actually mean anything, or if i’ll go crazy trying to figure it out

[rare]

Chicago the center of everything

[mathmusicreading]

Xiè Lián: My surname is Xiè, my first name is Lián. Huā Chéng: You can call me your third husband. Xiè Lián: What happened to my first two husbands?!

I learned Huā Chéng was having Xiè Lián call him "husband" from Ty the Canasian on Kictor's YouTube, I found this when I was trying to corroborate the linguistics, and I indulged and bought the official Seven Seas Entertainment (translator and editor are on Tumblr!) English translations of the books so here's further confirmation from Volume 1:

ETA:

I made this post private because I was unhappy with it (misspelling/misformatting Wúmíng, knowing I wouldn't have good reach for larger and less biased sample size even if I could have tagged better for the fandoms and characters if Tumblr organized by more than the first five tags), but I'm making it public again since it finished and so did the similar poll that fun-mxtx-polls was kind enough to make for me.

Not to bias towards the first option, just to explain it, the first option and why I wanted this poll come from the naming pattern trivia for MXTX's love interests/male leads/gongs, which I think you can best read on Huā Chéng's page on the Heaven Official's Blessing/Tiān Guān Cì Fú wikia. I'm just using that as my citation given:

I'm not sure if MXTX has discussed this meta in-joke somewhere and if so, where.

The SSE Glossary: Terminology note (all volumes of all three MXTX novels) only explains the second and third gongs, and implies MXTX is doing this purposefully. Lán Wàngjī's wikia page explains only the three published gongs, and implies this started from fandom phenomena creating a proto-stage pattern (if you subscribe to "one is chance, two is coincidence, three is a pattern"). Huā Chéng's page linked above is the odd man out and so probably incorrect about Lán-èr-gē vs. Lán-èr-gēge, but it goes above and beyond by explaining the fourth gong, and it uses the most neutral language regarding this trivia.

I think citation is unnecessary for "gē" (哥 | 哥) meaning "big brother" and in certain contexts having the connotation or meaning of "eldest brother" (admittedly my unverified inference), "èr" (二 | 二) meaning "two", and "sān" (三 | 三) meaning "three".

I actually like so much because I like to think if it could use more wordplay and less literalism. Please forgive me for being a poor reader not remembering exactly, not buying the TGCF raws yet, not being able to buy the SVSSS and MDZS raws, and only being able to find old fan translations/interpretations of MXTX's fourth novel preview, but let me explain:

I believe Luò Bīnghé isn't being called "Luò Bīnghé-gē" (or rather "Bīng-gē" since I think? it's more usual to use the suffix with the single/first character of a person's given name, not with their full name, especially when the full name is three (or more? some of my reading has mentioned two-character last names but I didn't find if culture was strict about then making the given name be only one character) characters) for the usual reasons to address someone with "gē", but actually the PIDW!Luò Bīnghé is being called Luò Bīnggē (or "Bīng-gē") because he's more aggressive than canon/SVSSS!Luò Bīnggē who when being differentiated gets called Luò Bīngmèi (or "Bīng-mèi"), and I love that "very fitting reasoning for the naming, not strictly literal and not so bound to literal".

Then with Lán Wàngjī, I see the opportunity that his nickname could have used the natural naming of "erhua is used as a diminutive suffix", and the "er" would have been homophonous with "èr" (二 | 二) for "two" for him being the second gong, and homophonous to the potential "proper address for him as the second Lán son/brother".

In the most literal sense, you'll notice that the gongs so far have had their nicknames be using "(big) brother" and Huā Chéng's uses láng (郎 | 郎) "son" (his stated meaning, although it can also mean "man" and "husband" and the latter is how we can interpret he wanted it to be when coming from Xiè Lián). There's nothing wrong with that and the numbers are perfectly probable, and would still be so as they grow, but also they could feel more like "contrived" coincidence, which is part of my wanting to get away from literalism a little bit, not just my loving clever wordplay. With Huā Chéng, I don't have a homophone I can use for punning like with Lán Wàngjī, or really the "cultural language use where literal suffixes/honorifics get used figuratively for XYZ purposes", but I can make it fit with character interpretation. To me, Sān Láng doesn't have to be "Third Son" because "he has two older brothers" and in fact we aren't sure that he was telling the truth about that—instead, I think Huā Chéng could be being clever with not just getting Xiè Lián to call him (Third/surname "Three") Husband but in saying his name is "Third Man" because this is the third alias he gives Xiè Lián. (Some additional feels this gives me: It's like he's saying he's the same person Xiè Lián met before, that they shared all of that experience and it mattered, that he's the final form of that person wanting to be with Xiè Lián, that he's like a fairy-tale character with many names and forms and a true name and form and all along there was a trick or thread to follow in knowing and identifying him.) It just works out so perfectly because of the third way he introduces himself to Xiè Lián matching him being the third gong, and also the fairy-tale significant number of "three".

Finally, with the fourth gong, I've looked at Suika's TGCF Afterword translation, a NovelUpdates MDZS spoilers forum post by K.san crossposted to the Grim Reapers Have No Days Off spoilers forum by alexfilia, a reply to this post in r/tianguancifu by u/chenmochou, and also this post in r/tianguancifu by u/Loud_Daikon6167 which cites a TikTok I can't see either because of TikTok's thing about opening to a random page/the homepage or I assume the TikTok being removed or locked. Given the first NovelUpdates post maybe having more of a direct translation compared to the first Reddit post, it's still not definitive to me whether this is "actually more of a fandom thing, with MXTX acknowledging and participating in it enough to help make it possible" or it's "MXTX doing this on purpose with her name choices and character traits, whether she meant to have the pattern from the start or later, and yes could have been influenced by fandom" because I think "Other: 四少" is probably about the male lead(s) compared to it following "Protagonist: the uke's name is not determined yet" so it doesn't seem like the fandom came up with a nickname out of whole cloth. "Four young masters" is perfectly probable and could be equally reasonable, and "four ikemen" could even follow in reasonability; in fact it could be more likely and realistic since this is a modern setting, which would have different use of "young master" to me, and because we believe the gong to be the regular human and the shou to be the grim reaper. But for the wordplay, I would have liked it if the gong were the grim reaper and the "four theme naming" came from the famous "sì" (四 | 四) meaning "four" is homophonous with "sǐ" (死 | 死) meaning "die/death" and the latter being used in the Chinese for "grim reaper"/"death god".

[belovedmusings]

Am I Playing All Right Now?

Kento Nanami x You

Explicit Smut 18+ (🚫Minors DNI🚫)

Kento Nanami has been your respectful, loving boyfriend for two months now. All you’ve done so far is kiss, and you want more with him. He refuses for your sake, warning of his roughness. So, you take matters into your own hands and convince him to put in ‘just the tip’. 

Relevant tags: just the tip challenge, dom! Kento Nanami, clothed sex, couch sex, clit slapping, brief use of leather belt, hard and rough sex, doggy-style, hair pulling, manhandling, big dick-Nanami <3, dirty talk, degrading, unprotected sex, creampie, I don't use "y/n" for immersion

Music recommended while reading: Dollhouse (The Weekend, Lily Rose Depp, …baby one more time (The Marias), Like U (Rosenfeld)

A/N: this is filthy and I love it, my first Nanami piece <3 enjoy!! (Read on Ao3 if you prefer!)

Read below cut:

The night had gone great. You two had a fantastic dinner at a fine restaurant, and now you’re at his house, getting hot and heavy on the couch. You’re sat in his lap, straddling his waist, the hem of your dress riding up your thighs as the fabric gives to accommodate him between your legs. Your hands are running over the muscles of his chest, only the thin layer of his dress shirt between your touch and his skin. His palms are on your waist, pulling you closer, pressing you so firmly against him that you can feel the blunt heat of his hard cock beneath the confines of his slacks. 

You can feel adrenaline pumping through your veins–tonight is the night. Every time you two get close to having sex, he pulls away, saying he isn’t ready, but right now it feels so different, so electric–

He hums, punctuating the kiss and pulling back, giving you room to breathe. Your stomach sinks, no, this isn’t what you want, you want–

“We should stop here for the night,” He murmurs, and you look into his eyes, a frown tugging your lips down at their corners. 

“But you’re hard,” You protest, “Kento, please…we’ve waited long enough, and you clearly want this…”

His jaw tightens as he takes a breath. “I do…but we can’t.”

Now you’re just confused. “...can’t?”

He sighs heavily, giving you no explanation, but nodding. “Now, let’s m–”

“No, hold on,” You interrupt him, “Kento, tell me why? I-is it me? Do you…not want…?”

“It’s definitely not you,” He dispels quickly, “It’s me, okay?”

“What about you?” You press, searching his eyes. “Is it…are you…worried about your performance?”

That gets him to widen his eyes a fraction in surprise. “N-no, it’s not that. It’s…alright, look, it’s…it’s that I don’t want to hurt you.”

It isn’t enough of an answer for you. “And…what do you mean by that?”

“You…you know me to be this nice, gentlemanly man, don’t you?” He asks, a sort of resigned weight to his eyes. “Which, I am. But not when it comes to sex.”

The wheels turn in your head. “So…you’re…?”

“I’m rough,” He finally states, “And it’s…it’s not everyone’s cup of tea. I’m afraid to hurt you or scare you away. Of course I wouldn’t do anything you don’t want, but…you just seem so sweet and–”

“Woah,” You stop him in the middle of his sentence. “Do you think you’re the only one with duality? You don’t think I can be different in bed? Do you think I’m some porcelain doll you’ll break if you’re not careful?”

He considers this for a moment before sighing. “You don’t understand.”

“So then make me understand,” You challenge him, running your hands up his chest. “Please, Kento. I can take it.”

“No,” He denies, “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

Seeing his hesitance, you decide to switch tactics. You reach for his hands on your waist, taking his wrists and raising his palms up to the front of your dress. You guide them to rest over your breasts, allowing him to touch them through the thin cloth. You’d decided not to wear a bra for the night since the article had thin straps, and he immediately can feel that, a flash of desire flitting within his eyes.

Riding the wave of his interest, you tell him, “I want you bad, Kento.”

He inhales forcefully, allowing himself to knead the soft flesh beneath his hands. His thumbs graze over your hardening nipples, your teeth dragging over your bottom lip instinctively. To drive your point home, you grind down on him, the only thing on beneath your dress being the panties you’d hoped he’d see when you had put them on earlier in the day.

“You’re playing dangerous,” He warns, voice thin and strained. 

“Maybe I want dangerous.”

He finally lets out a groan, surging forward and capturing your lips in another kiss. It’s more forceful this time, and all you can do is give complete control to him. 

He flips your positions so smoothly, you hardly feel it; you just suddenly feel your back hit the cushion of his couch, a gasp pushed from your mouth. His hands make quick work sliding up your dress, fingers hooking underneath your waistband.

Kento speaks against your mouth lowly. “Lace?”

You swallow hard, nodding. “Yeah.”

“Expensive?”

The question catches you off guard. “Uh, no, not r–”

A swift, harsh tug and the sound of fabric ripping later, he holds the scrap lace in his hand, now mangled and unusable. He just tore them clean off.

“Holy shit,” You breathe, now suddenly aware of how bare you are beneath your dress. He must become aware of that fact too, because without a moment to spare, he’s pushing the article up to your waist, exposing you to his eyes. A rosy flush spreads over the bridge of your nose as he looks at your naked lower half unabashedly, a type of hunger you have never seen before nor known he was capable of in his eyes.

He tosses your ruined panties to the floor and fiddles with his belt, undoing the buckle. Your gaze follows his movements, watching his hands expertly tug the leather strap from its loops in his pants.

Then, he surprises you by holding the edge without the buckle and running it along your inner thigh. You shiver, observing him and wondering what his next move will be. He runs it all the way up, reaching the apex of your leg and placing it right over your mound. The cool leather feels unfamiliar there.

“Can I?”

Your attention is pulled to his voice, and for a moment you aren’t sure what he means. Then it dawns on you.

Oh.

No one’s ever done that to you. But…you aren’t opposed. You’re curious.

You nod.

“Words.”

Oh, damn.

“Yes, you can.”

“Good girl.”

You don’t have time to pay attention to the rush of hormones that praise gives you, because a harsh sting of pleasure suddenly hits your senses as he brings the end of the belt down, slapping your clit with it.

“Ah!” You jump slightly, shock, arousal, and fascination flooding you all at once.

“How was that?” He asks, watching you carefully. You take stock of yourself…and are intrigued to find that you liked it. As soon as you realize that, you understand that Kento is about to show you an entire new world previously unexplored to you.

Your eyes lock with his. “It was good.”

A mixture of relief and desire swarm his gaze. “You liked that?”

“Yeah.”

Without warning, he does it again, a little harder, and you cry out this time, unused to the strangely welcome sensation.

“Still good?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl.”

Your next breath is shaky. “More.”

He wastes no time in delivering exactly what you want. Over and over again, until your pearl is red and swollen and the folds beneath are glistening with need, belt shiny with a bit of it. He stops once you reach this state, making sure you see as he licks it off the belt. Your lips part, entranced, and he drops the accessory, instead moving to undo the front of his slacks. Your heart begins racing–but then he pauses, seeming to deflate slightly.

“I’m not gonna go all the way,” He states, “I don’t have condoms.”

“What?” Your voice is more than a little indignant. “But…how?”

“I wasn’t planning to do this tonight.”

He pulls his cock from its restriction in his briefs, pushing his waistbands down to the tops of his thighs, and the sight of the thick, red shaft as your mouth watering and your core pulsing around nothing. 

You think he’s changed his mind as he lines it up, but then he just glides it against your folds, coating it in your essence and using it to rub against you, the feeling intense due to the sensitivity of your previously abused clit, but not what you crave.

“Kento,” You whimper, watching him rub himself off as he plays with you using his cock. “Please…”

“We’re not risking a pregnancy,” He maintains, “It’s not wise.”

You are beyond frustrated at this point, entrance weeping for attention, and you swear the desire is so bad you can feel your entire core sore and empty, vying to be filled and stretched.

What can you say that will get him to do it, even just a little bit?

Wait. Just a little bit.

“What about just the tip?”

His eyes narrow. “What?”

“Just the tip,” it comes out needier than you had intended, but god damn it you’re horny and all out of shame twice over.

Kento takes a good look at you, at himself and the position you’re in, sucking in a controlled breath for the umpth time that night.

Then, he lines up again, cockhead pressing against your entrance. “You’re going to regret asking for it.”

Is he challenging you? Whatever. What. Ever. You’ve reached a point where if you don’t get his cock soon your heart may actually give out. 

“Let me decide that.”

His jaw sets tightly before finally, finally, he cants his hips forward, pushing the tip of his shaft inside of you. 

As soon as it’s in, your head falls back on the couch, hips starting to roll without your permission. Your body wants him all on its own, and you’re no longer in command of it. He groans, pulling out and then pushing it back in, only the tip again, and you whimper in half bliss and half frustration.

You want more. 

You understand the true meaning of temptation now. You’ve had the first bite of the proverbial apple, and it’s shocking how eager you are to devour the rest to its core.

Everytime he pushes in, never going past the smooth head of his cock, you moan, wordlessly begging for more. There’s a worry in his brow and a tenseness to his jaw that indicates just how much self-control he’s exercising, and as you look up at him, you realize he’s still pretty much fully clothed—his tie is pristine around his neck, shirt fully buttoned up, only his dick out and vulnerable to your eyes. 

It’s unfair, and you seek to change that.

Your hand loops into his tie and yanks him down by it, taking him by surprise. He has to catch himself on his hands to avoid falling on you, a grunt escaping his lips as it causes him to slide further into you.

In a lowered hiss, he asks you, “what do you think you’re doing?”

The tone is so vindictive it has any words dying on your tongue. All it takes is a moment before he’s forcefully breathing out and lifting himself off of you, cock withdrawing from between your legs.

You open your mouth to protest, and that’s when your world spins. 

You were face up, but now you’re on your hands and knees on the couch, having to brace yourself as he manhandles you silently. There’s not even a moment for you to acclimate to your new position before you feel his fingers loop through your hair as you’d done to his belt, and in one motion, he grabs your hip with his free hand and slams all the way into you, pulling your hair back hard to make you arch for him.

A loud cry splits through the air and it’s only when he starts repeatedly fucking hard and fast into you with the entirety of his monstrous size that you realize the sound was from you.

“See what happens when you push me?” His voice is hoarse and gritty, more like a growl than a whisper, a dull ache inside of you where he’s currently remolding the shape of your walls.

All you can do is make incoherent noises, and you aren’t sure whether they’re from pain, pleasure, or a mixture of both. His grip on your hair isn’t letting up and it hurts, but you’ve also never felt so completely out of control of yourself and somehow it just feels freeing to you. 

“Huh?” He asks, and it’s then you realize you never replies to him verbally. You muster up the strength to speak.

“Y-yeah…” it sounds breathy and whiney, completely foreign in the contours of your voice.

“You happy now? Happy you got me to fuck you like the greedy whore you are?”

The harsh word ripples through you hotly and you moan, nodding as good as you can. “Yes…”

“Yes?” He asks, breathless, and he lets go of your hair in favor of wrapping his hand around your neck from behind. “You like being screwed like a whore?”

Apparently, you do. This is new information to you as well. You nod, gasping as he grabs your hand and presses it over your abdomen, where you can feel the flesh rising and falling in tandem with his thrusts. 

“Feel that?” He asks, “that’s me inside of you.”

“Oh god,” You rasp, the knowledge of him so deep inside your body going right to your head. You can feel your mound weeping all over yours and his thighs, the wet slap tell-tale of just how much you’re enjoying this. Just the realization has you fluttering around him, a sensation that isn’t lost on him.

“Fuck,” he breathes, “You really do like this, huh?”

You nod. “Yes, yes, Kento…”

He groans, leaning forward and kissing the juncture of your neck and shoulder, brushing your hair out of the way. 

“Such a good girl for me…my good little slut.”

You shudder, eyes squeezing shut as he speeds his movements up, the hand that was pressing yours to your stomach moving down to the slippery mess that is your swollen clit.

The big palm of his on your neck slides the thin straps of your dress down your shoulders and dips into the neckline of it, grasping your breast as if to claim ownership of it. 

“Oh my god,” You breathe again, hips twitching at all of the stimulation, face hot, entrance thoroughly fucked open and sloppy, debauched by Kento like a destructive form of artwork.

His middle finger massages circles into your sensitive pearl as he continues the grueling pace of his hips, lips pressed to the back of your neck, and all at once it becomes too much.

It crashes into you like the unforgiving wave of the raging ocean, sweeping you into the depths of pleasure.

You cum so hard on his cock he physically has to stop moving, your hold on him so tight he’s locked inside of you. That’s the moment that he follows, spilling his pent up, heavy load into you with a hiss of pleasure. 

Your arms and knees feel like jelly. Your walls are sore and throbbing, completely exhausted from his ravaging. But all you feel is feather-light. Finally, finally you did it. And it was better than your wildest imagination.

Lips place a tender kiss on your shoulder, his labored breaths slowing back to regulation. You feel his cheek rest upon the skin of your upper back. Both of his hands massaging along the sides of your hips.

“I’m sorry we waited so long. I just figured it would be too intense for you.”

You shake your head, turning it to look back at him as he straightens up and carefully pulls out. 

“Don’t do that again.”

The corner of his lips turns up slightly. “Oh no, I won’t make that mistake twice. In fact…there’s something else I want to do now.”

“And what’s that?”

“I want to test your limits.”

__

A/N: here's my Nanami masterlist :) this is the first piece but lmk what else you want me to write for him! Hope you enjoyed.

[imaginarypasta]

spending ten minutes determining whether i can place a comma in a specific place in a sentence

[father-kincaid]

*Kincaid was wandering through the central forest, roaming the land in search of that of which was lost*

*He was eventually met with an eternal frost tree during his search.*

This.. shouldn’t be possible. This location is far from the right conditions to house such a prestigious and precious tree..

*he examined the surroundings area around the tree when he noticed the formation at the base of the tree was off*

*Kincaid took a knee to look closer and saw that there were slight cracks and holes in the ground around the tree's 'base'.*

*Upon closer inspection, it seemed there was a cave right underneath, confirming his suspicions*

Now how did th-

*before he could finish that thought the ground beneath him shattered and caved in causing his to fall into the cave*

*as he opened his eyes from the crash he was met with 2 glowing eyes, one glistening golden eye and a sparkling purple eye.*

*Where others would fear the creature before them, he only stood up with excitement in his eyes.*

H-hello there little one! Why so far from home?

[r3starttt]

BEHAVE

PAIRING: Caitlyn Kiramman x reader

SUMMARY: Being her controversial young girlfriend but she's sooo mean about it.

CW: Mean Caitlyn. fingering and public sex if u squint. A mix of Cait act 1 and after act 3 because that eye patch makes her so hot.

TAGLIST: @lewd-alien @greysontheidiot @jolyne @sapphic-ovaries @tlouloser @prwttiestbunny @visobsession @thesevi0lentdelights @lvlymicha @stickycherritart @patronagrona @halle5s @usuck @thalchmy @lovelyy-moonlight @fakevalentine

A/N: this was a headcanon but it's too long so, enjoy(? also I apologize because this is very self indulgent and maybe it doesn't feel like it's Caitlyn at all but who cares!

* first post of the year!!!! ahhhh praying I can write so much more

"Do you truly believe I wouldn’t notice?" Caitlyn’s voice brushed against your ear, a velvet whisper laced with reproach as her hands rested on your shoulders. She guided you through the sea of silk gowns and tailored suits, her touch light yet insistent. The weight of her name—Kiramman—still carried its unyielding responsibilities. These endless soirées, gilded in pretension, were as much a part of her world as the air she breathed.

You hummed in acknowledgment, your brow furrowing as the opulent liquor in your glass shimmered with each step. The crystal caught the golden glow of chandeliers, creating ripples of light that danced with the cadence of your movements.

"I distinctly recall telling you not to speak to her," Caitlyn said, her voice low but firm, a melody of restrained fury and high-society decorum. And there it was—why she was upset. Her words, precise as a scalpel, made the realization cut deeper.

Jealousy. It wasn’t the first time.

She was a woman molded by singularity, the only child of a family whose legacy loomed large. Years of hard work and calculated poise had shaped her, yet even Caitlyn Kiramman wasn’t immune to the corrosive sting of possessiveness. She had drawn comfort from women, and in doing so, learned too much about how easily temptation could unravel the strongest resolves. She knew what could happen when the wrong hands reached for what they desired.

"And I didn’t," you replied, your tone measured but pointed as you placed emphasis on the pronoun. "She spoke to me."

But you knew the defense was weak, the excuse thin. It wasn’t about who initiated the conversation—it was about the way you let it linger, the playful barbs you traded in defiance of Caitlyn’s clear wishes.

"Look at me."

She halted, steering you into a quiet corner where the hallway stood mostly empty save for the occasional passing silhouette. Her grip shifted to your chin, blue-painted nails biting just enough to demand your attention. Tilting your face upward, her single piercing eye—framed by the violet eyepatch that gleamed under the estate’s polished lighting—locked onto yours.

"That woman," Caitlyn said, her tone laced with hate, "will go to any lengths to provoke me. She is petty, immature, and cannot tolerate the fact that I chose you." The emphasis on you was punctuated with a fleeting brush of her thumb along your cheek.

"And why is that?" you countered, tilting your head slightly, an air of defiance laced in your words. You knew the unspoken truths hidden in her gaze, the ghosts of her past lovers lingering in her quiet. You weren’t the first to occupy her bed, but you intended to be the last. Still, the question hung in the air, daring her to acknowledge the vulnerability that simmered beneath her jealousy.

Her posture shifted, the tension momentarily releasing as she let go of your face, her hands finding yours. "Behave," she murmured, her voice carrying a polished warn. "You’re not some foolish girl in need of coddling , are you? Didn’t you insist I treat you like a grown woman and not—what was it?—a 'sweet indulgence,' like those other girls you claim I once entertained?"

Sharp, clever, and unrelenting , Caitlyn always knew how to turn the blade back on you, her wit as honed as the rifle she wielded with such precision.

"I’m merely observing," you replied with a shrug, feigning indifference though the sting of her words lingered. "You seem awfully afraid of some women. Almost as though you know them too well."

Her laugh was soft, almost a scoff, but her grip on your waist tightened. Caitlyn wasn’t one to retreat. Instead, she seized the moment, her free hand taking your glass and setting it on a side table near the staircase alongside her own. Without a word, she led you upward.

The quiet intimacy of the stairwell was a stark contrast to the party below. The golden light softened as you ascended, and with each step, the air between you grew heavier, thick with the unsaid.

Your heels echoed against the polished marble, mirroring hers as you followed her onto one of the estate’s many balconies. Caitlyn left the balcony door ajar, the muffled hum of the soirée seeping through like a distant murmur.

Her lips grazed the delicate curve of your neck, warm and insistent. "Do you know what I used to do?" she murmured, her voice low-- confessional. Her hands found your waist, steadying you as though she feared you might falter under the weight of her words.

"I would take them home," she began, her tone as smooth as the feel of her hands on your skin. Her fingers tightened ever so slightly, a possessive gesture had you folding already. "I would ask about their lives, their dreams... enough to slip beneath their guard."

Her lips traveled upward, brushing the corner of your jaw, then your cheek, before stopping just next to your ear. "And then," she continued, her voice a breath against your skin, "I would lean in, cup their necks, let my gaze linger on their lips... kiss them."

As the words left her mouth, she mirrored the act with you. Her fingers glided to the nape of your neck, holding you firm, her lips capturing yours with a deliberate fervor. The kiss was unhurried yet commanding, a declaration rather than a question.

"I would undo their clothes, piece by piece, savoring the soft of their skins." Her hands traveled down, tracing the contours of your frame with reverence until her fingers found the hem of your dress. Slowly, she gathered the fabric, the rustle of it rising in harmony with the quickening beat of your heart.

"I would caress their thighs," she continued, her voice dropping with promise. Her hand slid beneath the folds of your dress. She paused there, letting the silence be filled with the distant hum of the party behind you.

Her gaze met yours again, piercing. She pressed her knee in between your legs, her fingers making small circles over your clothed clit, feeling the fabric damp under her touch. A smile spread on her face, almost a mocking laugh escaping her as her forehead leaned closer to your own. "Yeah? feels good, doesn't it?" Her breath hovering over your lips before you nodded, opening your lips further to try and get a kiss she denied.

"I would love to feel how wet they got... listening those whimpers and the many obscenities spilling through such pretty lips." Her other hand went behind your waist, digging her fingers into you.

Your head tilted down as you got pressed into the railing. Worried that someone might see.

It wouldn't be new to them. Cailtyn had been caught endless times by those working for her or around her- and she couldn't care less. Making her girls go louder each time.

"I loved to hear how they pronounced my name in between gasps." Her wet lips pressed another kiss into your neck. Her hand guiding your hips to move against her leg as she slid her fingers up and down your covered slit.

You held behind onto the railing, using it to impulse your body as you wished against her fingers and her body and just enjoy yourself while using her. Your lips pressed too tightly to not let any sound out.

Your eyebrows furrowed to a point it hurt. Caitlyn made you mad, she knew how to put you in your place every single time.

"Be a good girl and let me hear you, love." She pressed herself closer to you again, her fingers busy with your wet. She had minutes that felt endless just rubbing at your clit over your clothes, providing you the friction of her knee against your cunt or her fingers over your hole- teasing to pull your panties aside and fuck you-- But that was it.

And maybe all of it had you falling for her one last time. Opening your lips to moan and whimper against her own. She wanted the show and if she asked so nicely why would you deny her?

But just as you felt like maybe there could be a way to convince her to fuck you like you wanted, she stopped. It was almost too abruptly it hurt.

"Go to the bathroom and compose yourself," Caitlyn instructed. Her grip tightened on your chin, tilting your face upward with a practiced ease that left little room to argument. The intensity in her eyes was an unspoken demand.

"I will not endure the embarrassment of your behavior tonight." The sharp edge of her accent making each syllable bite. Her fingers pressed into your cheeks, just enough to remind you of her control, her authority over this moment. "Your age is already... challenging for me. Do not make me regret this, love. Do you understand?"

You nodded, the motion awkward under the restraint of her hand. A wave of heat prickled at the corners of your eyes, tears threatening to spill, not from pain but from the raw sting of her words. Your voice came out small, broken, as though the very air had been stolen from your lungs.

"I'm sorry," you murmured an apology barely audible, stifled by the weight of her fingers against your face.

"Don't apologize," she snapped, the command as firm as it was cold. Her gaze bore into yours, cutting through your composure. "Just do as I ask. Prove to me that you're capable of being what I need you to be."

Her lips hovered dangerously close to yours, her breath warm, intimate, yet void of comfort. "Show me you're worth it-" She paused to make it clear, it was a warn if not a threat. "And never, ever speak to her again. Not a word, not a glance. Or it's over. Is that clear?"

There was no room for negotiation, no softness to temper her gaze. Her words were final. Like anything else around her, it was an unspoken contract you had no choice but to sign.

[orphicmusings]

“give me ten minutes and a pillow for his hips”

18+ | MDNI

its not that viktor didn’t want to devour you. take you in the almost impossible positions he’d widen his eyes at reading about when he got bored in the library, attempting to anatomically sketch it out on a napkin to visualize how it would work hastily before anyone came in and caught him flipping through an erotic novel. and he would, through the pain, it would be so worth it— if not for your gentle consideration. the one thing sexier than your dazed face looking up at him, all heated cheeks and hooded eyes, was how perceptive you were— how well you knew him, how well you saw him. you were attuned to him now, an invisible string between you. a phenomenon he could never sit down and wrap his big head around, just how connected the two of you had become that you barely needed words to communicate sometimes. like, for example, an abrupt whine sneakily covered by the clearing of his throat.

you were both excited and apprehensive when he brought up wanting to be on top tonight. you knew he would be putting pressure on his bad leg and of course you brought it up, but the way his voice dipped in velvet and wrapped around you, the lyrical lilt in his accent becoming hushed and deeper as he detailed how he wanted you under him, he wanted to take you, claim you, devour you with no inhibitions. his silver tongue won against your worried left brain, twice technically, until you heard it— the slightest change of rhythm in the strum of your little connective string.

“viktor?” you lifted your head. “what was that?”

he took a deep breath and buried his head in the crook of your neck. “nothing, darling.” he punctuated his assurance was a distracting suckle on your skin. and god, you almost gave in again, almost, but you gently tilted his head up and looked into his darkened eyes. “didn’t sound like nothing.”

damn you and your perceptive skills. he loves them so much.

another deep breath leaves him, and before he could wave it off, you press him. “it’s your leg, isn’t it?” you ask, already knowing the answer, and he can’t lie to you.

“yes.” he breathed in surrender. “i’m sorry, my love i really wanted to-what are you doing?” he frowned, watching you roll out from under him and grab one of the pillows on his bed.

“armchair, now.” you pointed to the chair across the room, with the plush ottoman in front of it that you gifted him. he couldn’t help but let a smirk pull at the corners of his mouth.

“bossy.” yet, he obeyed and made his way over to you. you gave him the pillow, instructing him to put it under his hip as he sat down, making sure his leg was elevated on the ottoman. once you got him all situated, you didn’t even have time to ask if it felt better before he was grabbing the back of your neck and kissing you like a man starved. you melted into his touch, straddling him but careful not to apply too much pressure. “so fucking sweet.” he pants the praise huskily into your mouth. “too good to me.”

his hands traveled down your body to grip your hips, pulling you flush to him. you started grinding slowly, and he guided you, a shaky breath leaving your mouth before you even got to the main event. every noise from your mouth caused a shiver to run down his spine, striking him with irrational need— he didn’t care that the things he wanted to do to you would make him scream in pain, he felt that he would simply die if he couldn’t fuck you the way he pictured it in his head right now.

but then he looks at you, just as dazed and hungry on top of him as you were under him, and a smile creeps up on him. it doesn’t matter if he were to throw you down and ravage you like a love interest in those books, or if you were softly bouncing on his length, burying your little sighs and whimpers into the crook of his neck, he’s still pleasing you. he’s still enough for you. he exhaled a smirk.

“none of that, darling.” he lifted your jaw to meet his eyes. “wanna see you and hear you. can you do that for me?” you nodded, struggling to keep your head up in the throes of pleasure, but having no trouble letting your mouth run wild with curses and praises and whines and whimpers. and it was all music to his ears. “that’s it, sweet girl.” his voice came ragged as he reached his long fingers to press on your clit. you all but screamed, tugging gently on the curls of the nape of his neck. he whined and threw his head back.

“am i hurting you?” you asked hoarsely, your hand hovering over his hair. he shook his head adamantly, taking your head and tangling it back in his hair himself. each thrust would earn a tug, and each tug would earn a pretty noise from him, causing another push to each of your edges.

“love you….” he whispered against the skin of your neck, pressing a kiss against it as you both reached your peaks, breathing heavily against each other. “love you so much.”

[kiragecko]

[Comic shows an adult Jason casually standing with a phone to his ear. We hear his side of the conversation.

"Hey Bruce why are you calling me aren't you meant to be on a date right now?

"Oh yeah I guess the trapeze artists dying would ruin the mood. Hang on the circus your at. It wouldn't happen to be Haly's Circus would it?

"Shit. No it's nothing just gotta go now Bruce talk to you later."

We get eight lines of 'fuck' behind Jason's head as he holds a key with his mouth and pulls on a jacket. He says, "How the fuck did I forget that Dick's parents also die!!!"

End ID.]

Can’t wait for Baby Bruce to get a rabid little brother from the circus

I was actually thinking again about the time travel fix it au and why Jason would just let Dicks parents die and well

I think he just forgot