#hedone writes

[sugar-and-pearls]

“Don't play with me about my sister"

A snippet inspired by this For context this is set during the cruel prince. Merope and Locke were together before Locke cheated on her with Nicasia and when Locke thinks about playing with @tex-treasures Amanita like he has done with many other girls, Merope decided that the best defensive is a good offensive.

“I wonder what Amanita would taste like under the moonlight”

Locke turns around to look and is caught off guard by Merope suddenly pressing up against him, breasts cushioned against his chest. Arms wrap around him, hands finally settling harshly against his neck as her nails dig into it. A sharp groan of pain escapes him when her nails dig deep enough to draw blood from him.

A low growl brings Locke’s attention to her face.

The polite and friendly mask she wears is off and underneath is a snarling fierce thing, all sharp canines peeking from pink lips. She leans closer, Merope’s nose almost touching his. 

“Don't play with me about my sisters Locke” Amber eyes widen like a deer mid hunt as they stare down into acorn brown. 

“Don't touch my sister, you don't look at my sister - if I even suspect that you are even thinking about my sister I will drag you ironside and hunt your shade though all of Arawn and Hades with the hounds of Hell on your heels till the world stops turning and the moon falls from the sky.” 

She presses a kiss to his lips, soft and chaste as her eyes staring into Locke’s own. Sparkly strawberry lip gloss left on his lips when Merope parted from him, breath fanning and mingling with his. 

“Understood?”

[lucaswarmhotchocolate]

Harry Potter can cook. tbh. He deserves it. Also I headcanon that voldemort has made it so he does not need to sleep or eat much in order to thrive, physically and mentally, but he still eats anything Harry cooks and offers to him. A love language, of sorts.

[theartofperishingslowly]

Pt 2. Of Things my English teacher has said in class:

"Don't just study literature for happiness, but also have some passion and usage: be a hedonistic utilitarian before everything else."

I would've started clapping if the class wasn't so serious.

[annoyingann]

Suddenly, a picture of an upset D at an empty holiday table appeared in my head

So lonely, so unwanted. The space around him seems large, but empty. Locked in this room without a ceiling

I didn't put any conscious symbols in it, but I like to look at this sketch and think from the outside about what the symbols on it mean

I like to think that the lack of a roof is two symbols at once. Literally: "no permanent roof over your head" .. And figuratively, where the roof is the gaze of a deity from above

[crmsnmth]

Headaches

Just take your hands off the wheel let your god figure you out Let nature play it's cards and let your chips fall where they lay It's too short to always be so serious Even if it is a tall order to laugh

Russian roulette for breakfast And some hot shots left for lunch Living recklessly, living dangerously it doesn't work for anyone Isn't that the point of this lifestyle? To live so fast we die?

Living without warning, without rules Natural selection getting a little help I used to want to be immortal and now I'm sometimes begging to prove my morality

I'll sit in your passenger seat if you promise to drive straight into a tree and I know we both have different destinations but you can just drop me anywhere

and I'll blindly walk the crosswalks

[paddlescuddlesbubblesgurgles]

been thinking about if I had a remote that controlled a sub’s body entirely.

[revearfoly]

Let me pretend the world is funny and forever;

I’m just glad i feel, i exist, i am able to experience life.

[sugar-and-pearls]

"It has been said before that the second Princess Helaena was fond of Lady in waiting. The two were neigh inseparable since girlhood, often found side by side. The list of companion jewellery the two shared are near countless and though Princess Helaena avoided touch from all others she was often seen to link arms with Lady Megette.

A portrait, commission by their husband Jacaerys Velaryon, shows us their normal life. Reportedly a sacred place for Megette, it was customary when in the red keep to find them in the Godswood, under the Weirwood. It depicts the first four children born from their marriage;

Gaemon was the first and only one born to Lady Megette at this time. Nicknamed "Palehair" for his striking white hair, it was said that he had inherited the snow white hair of his Valyrian ancestors. Like his father before him, rumours of bastardry spread among court, stating neither Prince Aemond or Prince Aegon as the boy's father. When told of this, it is reported that all Lady Megette could do was laugh. "I wouldn't like lie with Aemond if he was the last man on earth," Next born were the twins, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, birthed from the Princess Helaena. Born in the same year as their half brother, no one questioned the parentage of these children, the greens readily proclaimed at court. Like with their brother, a dragon's egg was placed in each child's cradle, and two hatchlings soon came forth. Yet all was not well with these new twins. When born Jaehaera was tiny and she was slow to grow. She did not cry, she did not smile, nor did none of the things that a babe was meant to do. Her twin brother Jaehaerys, whilst larger and more robust, was also less perfect than was expected of a Targaryen princeling, boasting six fingers on his left hand, and six toes upon each foot. Last was the little Prince Maelor, also born from Princess Helaena. It is known that the little prince admired both his elder brothers and soon as he could walk, he began following Gaemon and Jaehaerys around everywhere he went. When not following his brothers, Maelor could often be found with his mother and stepmother, a finely crafted toy beetle in hand as the two woman spoke among themselves. Only time would tell of the great deeds and events these Targaryens would have a hand in and the way fates would twine them in. But for now, they are but children, running around in a Godswoods playing at being dragons.

-An excerpt from 'Fire & Blood, Being a History of the Targaryen Kings of Westeros' by Archmaester Gyldayn

Art was done by the fabulous @viviartsy. They were very kind to me when I couldn't decide what I wanted to commission and talked me through my ideas. I know this was a difficult challenge for her and I am so grateful that she decided to take this on. I would highly recommend checking out her stuff if you are interested, her na'vi art is the die for.

[pen-of-roses]

Longing

(TW: Implied suicidal ideation, potential self-harm, blood, references to death and being buried alive. It's a kinda heavy one)

Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial, I present Conor having angst:

This was not the type of place he ever lingered, if he had ever even visited. The very ground itself forbidden to him and him alone.

That was perhaps, not the truth, given that others, though few, shared his condition similarly enough, and it wasn’t as though it burned his very skin. But it took hold of something in his chest, wrapping it’s dark painful claws around that thing, and threatened to rip and tear until there was nothing left. And he had such little will to stop it.

That grip was not pity, nor grief. At least not for them.

It was not forbidden in the sense he could not touch it, because oh, had he so many times before. But he could not keep it, and it refused to keep him.

He was frozen, staring out over the rows and rows and rows of field and grass. Stones, statues, and simple markers some could only just afford stared back at him. Taunted him. 

We offer rest. We offer peace. We hold memories and proof that they were loved and someone cared enough to place us here.

His fingers dug into cold, smooth stone, sapping away his blood’s warmth only slightly, until it cut and brought it hot to the surface.

You still bleed, and you still live. And you will forever.

Perhaps he should be grateful for them. They were, after all, evidence that the dead were not immediately burned or discarded or carved up or worse, sent to the waves, here. As such, he would only have to dig through the dirt to freedom if something went wrong. Wouldn’t be the first time. Though those were often unmarked.

A group huddled around one now, a gaping dark hole in the otherwise well cared for ground. Or so he could imagine without being able to see through the bodies this far away, though not far enough for their cries to die in the wind before him. 

Mourners.

On some shards people were assigned to if no one was there for the dead. 

This groups’ grief was loud with many voices though, pressed tight together. 

His teeth ground together and his jaw ached.

Lucky.

Perhaps he did have one out there somewhere. Perhaps someone who had seen him fall or heard somehow, but couldn’t find a body, added his name to one of the simple wooden stakes. Perhaps it was enough that they shed a single tear over it too. Perhaps they had even given him a last name.

But if anyone had, it would have been long lost to time.

Like he should’ve been.

If anyone had, it was a pointless gesture anyway. Proof they hadn’t known him long enough to understand. And all that would be left to show for it was a meaningless empty grave for one who could never fill it.

[it-happened-once-in-a-meme]

Incorrect The Picture of Dorian Gray Quote

Some random person: Do you gentlemen have any personal philosophical beliefs?

Dorian Gray: Screw around and find out.

Henry Wotton: Hedonism.

Basil Hallward: Existentialcrisis-ism.

Henry: That's not how you-you know what, I change mine to existential criticism.

Source: Me, I'm so proud 😭

[kangofu-cb]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Batman - All Media Types, Marvel 616, DCU (Comics), Avengers (Comics) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton/Jason Todd Additional Tags: Edgeplay, Under-negotiated Kink, Overstimulation, Crymaxing, Dom!Jason, willing participant Bucky, not really subby enough Clint, but they work him up to it, Multiple Orgasms, Sex, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Spitroasting, Rimming, Bondage, look there's a lot going on here okay, I think I hit the highlights Summary:

“You said anything I wanted,” Jason reminded him, “and now I’ve got several very good hours of your undivided attention to work with.”

  Clint swallowed convulsively, but then his chin came up. “Bring it,” he taunted.

  “Shouldn’ta said that,” Bucky muttered, loud enough for all of them to hear.

  Jason raised one eyebrow.

  “Actually –” Clint started, but Jason raised the other eyebrow expectantly and his jaw snapped shut.

  “No apology?” Jason asked.

  Clint’s mouth stayed stubbornly shut.

  “No ‘I’m sorry, baby, I shouldn’t have kidnapped you’?”

  “I’m sorry, baby, I shouldn’t have kidnapped you,” Clint said, slightly petulant.

  “Hmm.” Jason pretended to think about it. “What about Bucky? No ‘I’m sorry, honey, I shouldn’t have hit you with my car’?”

  “I’m sorry, honey, I shouldn’t have hit you with my car,” Clint parrotted flatly.

 The plotless, sexy follow-up to Clara's WHH October ficlet.

[meerawrites]

Songs and Ships Tag

Rules: write about two to five songs from them that represent your a ship between your characters (it can be platonic or romantic or a secret third thing). then add a quote from said WIP (if possible!) underneath it.

WIP: now editing - Ghosts x Hedonism.

Tagged by: I do not remember I am sorry!

Tagging: @the-bar-sinister, @revenantlore, @malicious-compliance-esq and @musicboxmemories (if you want!)

Opheliac by Emilie Autumn (Sibyl Vane/Dorian Gray - most of the novel).

I'm your Opheliac My stocking prove my virtues I'm open to attack But I don't want to hurt you Whether I swim or sink That's no concern of yours now....

Lose Your Soul by Dead Man's Bones (Dorian Gray to Dorian Gray's monstrous portrait)

you're gonna lose control, tonight, tonight, tonight. i get up to this feeling, keeps me on the run. i get up in the morning, put my dreams away, i get up, i get up, i get up again.

[mashmouths]

they should invent a my brain that can complete assignments

[asshole-rebel-psycho]

If God never lets me meet a wife to create a family I guess I could just appreciate art, nature, and admire female beauty from a far until I die.

Most beauty is lost once you obtain it anyway....

Hopefully I don't fall into hedonism because of my lack of human connection and physical intimacy.

If God does plant a good woman on my journey, I hope I'm not too jaded and hopelessly repressed enough to see that her soul is for me.

If I do have a love one day, I hope I'm not too blinded by unobtainable muses of fantasy. I hope I don't follow my father because he didn't know how to treat her. I hope I won't flinch from the darkness of reality and look into her eyes. I hope I'll keep her.

[ivansergeyevichturgenev]

this was posted in my town's 20 something facebook group 😭😭