#mercy's books ★

[mercurysgarden]

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[screampied]

‘ CALL ME BY YOUR NAME ?! ★

geto, toji, choso, gojo, sukuna. moaning the wrong name during sēx.

cw. fem! reader, unprotected, crack, brat taming, substance usage (weed), true form sukuna, spit, size kink + size diffs, impact play, cōckwarming, cērvix mentions, edging, overstim, dumbificafion. req.

wc. 3.6k

SATORU GOJO ☆

with your body steadily rocking back and forth, rolling and jerking at a more hastily pace—satoru can’t help but strum his thumbs against your curves. your figure, he couldn’t help but feel against it, feel the specific curves, the outline of your gorgeous physique. all his. “fuck, thaaaat’s it baby, that’s my girl,” he praises you in a cooing berceuse, stuffing your cunt with thickset inches of his cock. the constant elastic-like stretch makes you whimper, burying the outer cusps of your fingertips into his bare flesh. his broad wide shoulders lower and alleviate as you’re maintaining such weight on him.

already, you were so close to reaching your inescapable peak. the abiding repetitive creaks of the mattress was loud, creating its own personal mixtape as you whine mercy. with glossy eyes, you peer up at satoru who’s panting himself, a slippery sheet of perspiring sweat coating the top part of his forehead. groaning, he spanks your ass continuously the moment he starts to feel you slow down. “nah, c’mon. don’t get weak on me now, angel. move those f— fuckin’ hips, yeah.”

his words, they ran straight towards your cunt. as he’s delving his fat cock into your stretchy walls time and time again, satoru feels your little butterfly of a pulse. “mhhh,” you squeak out, shaky arms throwing over his slouched shoulders. “s-suguru, ‘m close, fuck.” and the look on his face says it all, what the fuck.

“what,” his eye twitches, and as he’s still tucked inside - buried balls deep into your pussy, there’s a forming pout. satoru doesn’t even look pissed, he just seems .. offended. you huff out a devestated breath at how he just stops and his voice cracks. “did you just call me suguru?”

“i mean shoko—” and then you gasp. “eh, satoru.”

big hands of his hold onto your waist, locking you in a firm grip. satoru’s got the most twisted expression. snowy white brows contort into a repelled furrow as he’s still pumping you full without actually moving.

“no way did you just say shoko,” and he grunts, feeling himself throb at the thought of you and shoko. satoru stares at you and its more of a gawk really. he grips your chin, a soft thumb toying against your quavering bottom lip. so kissable, even while being a brat — he thinks. “did you say that on purpose, baby?”

“n- no,” you lie through your teeth, desperate for him to start up his pace again. you craved it, already missing his fat thick inches breaking past your fragile, soddened walls. this was practically torture, just sitting and waiting for him to start again. whenever you were edged, it was hell. he hums at your impatient expression nonetheless. satoru could read you like a book though - he gives you an eyebrow raise and you gulp, feeling that same twitch arise between your thighs. at this point, he felt it too. “you and s-suguru’s name’s sound the same.”

with a deadpan, he grabs a nice amount of your ass before smacking it. whack, the sting gives you whiplash and you bite down on your lip. “nuh uh,” he murmurs with a concise head shake.

icy blue eyes peer into yours and you let off another gasp once he grabs ahold of your hips again—bouncing you back onto his dick. “don’t like when my babies lie to me. ‘s exactly why ‘m gonna have ‘ta break this pussy for tonight,” and you heard the sudden gruff in his tone. you’re babbling as you’re being fucked dumb on his dick again - up and down, treated like nothing more than a priceless rag doll. you moan so sweet that it’s almost pornographic—the entire scene was obscene, your noises only fueled him to ruin you further. ruin your cunt, anyway. shamefully, you hide your face into his neck, getting a redolent waft of his signature cologne.

teasingly,

satoru leans right into your ear, grabbing your neck gingerly whilst another unoccupied hand slithers down your body, spanking your cunt. it’s so wet, he feels a splash of your slick coat his palm and he chuckles. whispering to you, he grunts out a gruff.

“aw, goin’ somewhere?” he jeers, noticing as you’re trying to move again but secures your hips with two hands. satoru’s got the most shit-eating grin and you just wanted to wipe it straight off. “but heh, while i show this nasty cunt some manners, you won’t cry for me, right?”

SUGURU GETO ☆

the seraphic warmth and pleasure of your body continues to rub off against his skin - so warm, it’s tepid and almost sweltering hot. the strong stench of pure passionate sex with a mixture of his own scent drives you insane.

you’re dragging your pussy back and forth against him, riding him in reverse with your mouth stupidly dangling open. “s- suguuu,” you whimper, pointed tips of your nails gripping onto his thighs. the only other thing that stuck against him besides you, was his grey sweats—grey sweats that were lazily pulled down. your rhythm makes him kiss his teeth, cocking his head back as he takes another puff of his blunt. you wanted to ride him while he took a smoke and he could never refuse to his sweet babygirl. “right there, fuck ‘s big, sugu.”

“perfect size jus’ for you too,” he purrs against your left earlobe, playfully flicking his tongue against your skin. as always, you tasted so sweet for him — he groans at your flavor, a bit of salt that lingers on near your neck falling right onto his tastebuds. once he licks your neck in such a raunchy way, you moan loudly. it’s almost muffled though, a gargling sound forming near the very back of your throat. just seconds ago, your ear twitches from his hot breath fanning into your sensitive canal. your cunt’s having a melodramatic spasm of its own, releasing sweet cries of squelches that never fail to echo throughout the thin apartment walls. “mhm,” and you lean back into his chest, feeling a tickling sensation of brief curled chest hair ghost against your back. “lean into me like that, focus on that arch, good girl.”

the natural rough deepness in his tone always has you pulsing for more - it’s lewd, carnal and downright filthy. as geto inhales, emptying his lungs for a second, he exhales—blowing the clouded air directly away from you. dark hazed irises that were fully blown flicker down toward your ass. the way it moves,

it’s just nasty,

jerk after fucking jerk.

the recoil that slams back into him makes his jaw clench. your cunt’s already a bit overflowed with his cum from before. it’s slippery, dribbling all down the sides of your plush thighs before you whine out a pleading sob. “s- satoru, more. h- harder,” and you hear his lips smack immediately. suguru geto—always a sassy man, you’d bet money he even rolled his eyes too. after your little 'accident' blabber, you suddenly grow mute, realizing the syllables you spat out wasn’t even his.

“who?” he utters, yanking both hips of yours into an abrupt pause. you whine, trying to grind back against him but he only spanks you. “princess, i know you didn’t just say what i think you said.”

it was a type of low purr to his tone and it turns you on regardless. you feel your pulse slowly pick up - both pulses.

specifically between your thighs and your heart.

his loud scent had you aching for more and it only made things ten times worse once you feel his hands grab against your neglected tits. “s- suguru,” you correct yourself, mewling out a pathetic whine. “you know what i meant.”

“do i?” he hums, gently squeezing two fingers against your sensitive nipples. you slump back, still having his cock shoved right into your gummy walls before you start to salivate. right up against your ear, all close and personal, he starts to suck near your tender collarbone. “mhm, y’know exactly what you’re doing, sweets. but since ya wanna call me satoru, maybe you don’t need this dick after all.”

“wha—” and before you could even get a word out, he slides you off of his cock, repositioning his half on shirt. you pout, so close to finishing—so so close. the slimy trail of heat that pours between your legs only grow as you pant, meeting the gaze of the dark-haired male. “but y- you didn’t let me finish.”

with a mocking gesture of bending his head down to your level, he strokes your chin. “yeah, exactly baby,” and his stare at you arouses you way more than you thought. dark, sable tinted pupils return your expression before a smug grin spreads across his pink slicked lips. “but ‘m sure you’ll find a way to finish,” and he ogles at your exposed cunt one more time, an unamused tch leaving his lips. “maybe ask satoru to finish your sloppy pussy off.”

“fine—”

“girl i was joking???”

TOJI FUSHIGURO ☆

some nerve you had—you thought it would’ve been funny, and oh, did you think wrong.

toji’s relentlessly pounding into you from behind. slow, languid strokes massaging into your grippy walls. you’re a mess, tongue lolled out and a few strands of hair sticking to your forehead as he’s just churning up your sweet sweet insides.

every few seconds, a bit hand smacks against the right cheek of your ass, then the left, then the right. it’s constantly repetitive, the sting making you drool all onto the pillow. it’s a nice trail, a translucent color that’s just drizzling out of the corners of your lips.

you’re stupid, head bobbling against the cushioned fluff as if you were just a doll. you were never in a million years a match for toji—let alone his brutal, sharp hips.

“fuckkk,” he hisses out a raspy growl, watching intently as few remnants of his cum from the last round decorate the outer parts of your pussy. viridescent, jade pupils dart toward your thighs, taking in your jolting body. so weak, he can’t help but gawk at the way his hot cum oozes out of each hole. it’s so sloppy, he couldn’t help but swipe his thumb against your puckering entrance, getting a taste. “mhm,” he utters, lapping the fat print of his thumb over his tongue. toji never had a problem with it. relishing the bitter tang of his own, it was on you after all so it was even sweeter. the jiggle of your ass from each stinging swat he gives you makes his dick twitch. “sluttin’ y’erself out on me, good. keep the fuckin’ arch, yeah.”

there was a raspy pitch in his voice, gruff. you whimper, feeling him clamp both of your wrists toward your back - a slope of drool trickling past the corners of your lips before you let out a defeated snivel. “s-shiu, hngh. ‘m so close, shiu.”

and right then—he stops his hips, you’re clenching around nothing but his cock, his cock that was now idle. your panting slows down and the debleating rapture goes away once you moan out his colleague’s name. “w- what happened?”

“w-what happened?” he mocks your tone, even quivering out his lip to capture your little whine. your ass gets met with another serrated smack and the brief clash of his hips makes you hiss.

“shiu, huh?” and he sounds .. amused. you weren’t even looking at the man but you could tell he probably had the most smug expression imaginable. your ass was still propped and raised in the air — ass up, face down. your left temple buries itself into the velvety sheets before you start to clench around his non moving length. “dunno whether ‘ta be offended or turned on, baby.”

you swallow, feeling a broad hand grip against your ass. toji gawks at the sight of you all all arched, feeling your pussy thump in sync with your irregular breaths. he snickers at your current position, a thumb poking inside of your slick cunt before maneuvering it around. doing so, it makes the delivery of your words shudder. “i s- said toji.”

“shut the fuck up.” he grits.

you hold back an incoming giggle and you could visibly feel the glare displayed on his tense expression.

toji grabs another piece of your ass before lightly shoving you further into the mattress. “ehh. but fine, since you wanna say shiu, ‘m curious. who’s bigger? me or that bum?”

“do you .. want me to be honest?” you sheepishly murmur.

he didn’t expect you to say that.

“……..”

SUKUNA RYŌMEN ☆

all four arms roam over your body - exploring every inch, taking pride in your curves that presented itself in such a nude, salacious way.

you gasp at his strength, the demon lifting you up with ease, fucking you stupid whilst you’re in the air. you’re a mess, a nice stringy strand of your own spit starts to race out of your mouth and into the cracks of your chest. “ah,” he raises a single slit brow, holding you up and fucking you with deep, thorough thrusts. inside of his domain, the temperature was cold—the more your body lurches midair, the more you’re hit with a breeze of frigid cool wind. “such a dumb little face y’r makin’,” he points out, a big hand cupping your chin.

within no time, you’re slobbering all down his hand, feeling him puncture such deep areas into your cunt. sukuna bares a fang in a cocky manner, another hand gripping your chin so that you could look straight at him. “someone’s dumb again, today huh,” he grits, the hits of his dick sending you on a frenzied spiral. you’re babbling incoherent words, two weak arms thrown over his shoulders as you’re just bouncing and bouncing. he’s so thick too, his angry mushroom tip repeated its gesture of coating your cervix with a plethora of chaste kisses. “oh, don’t give me that pout. wanna cum, huh? ‘s that why you look so stupid?”

“t— tojiiii.” you whine, trying to grind your hips further to your incoming release. ripples of waves ignite its way into your body in short welts of pleasure. languidly, they form into tiny little surges of shockwaves before you short circuit. it’s early, you’re panting and you don’t even realize that you’re gushing all down his cock.

an entire mess—you’re an entire mess and you don’t even realize the repulsed expression sukuna’s giving you. “pardon, little girl.”

“i.. i said sukuna.” you moan, making an attempt to kiss his neck but he growls lowly, restraining one of your hands. his reflexes were quick, preventing you from moving a single inch further. you’re still behind held up with his other arms, fat hefty cock buried deep into your drooling, loose walls before he peels your bottom lip down. “don’t stop, ‘kun—”

“no, you said toji,” and he stares you dead in the eyes. you’re met with cruel mighty ones, and still you throbbed regardless. with your weak legs snaked around his waist - sukuna hmphs at you, watching your body try to move itself. you can’t help but be needy, he’s still inside of you but he just wouldn’t move. your teeth was shattering, nails piercing into his skin before he wraps a single hand around your throat. “how do you even mix up our names?” and he lightly knocks against your head, making you lie flat against the mattress. “must be nothin’ in that brain, huh. my girl’s such an airhead today.”

“ryo,” you moan, feeling a bit exposed now that you were laid flat on your back. the satiny sheets run against your skin as you sprawl your legs open voluntarily. he watches, a tongue scraping over his upper lip before aligning himself again. ryo, you were aware that that wasn’t even his name but you always liked to tease him about it. your cunt’s throbbing ridiculously still from its most recent crazed release. with your thighs shaking ruthlessly, you spread your swollen cunt lips open with two fingers. “s- sorry, ‘m sorry. didn’t mean it.”

he chuckles, knowing full well you were basically pleading for him to keep going. you were desperate, physically and metaphorically frothing at the mouth for his heavy shaft. your eyes meet his cock that was just right there, a pretty droplet of pre-cum dribbling down the very side where a prodding vein remains. with a sly expression, he pries you open with a single finger. immediately, your mouth goes ajar and agape from the stretch.

“mhm, the audacity to compare me to that loser,” he snarls, and watches with crimson, red-shot eyes as your legs sprawl open. with just a single digit, he makes your sopping cunt lips spread apart and he leans his neck down to spit right on it. you whine, staring openly as he grabs ahold of one of his dicks that was stacked behind the first one. “brat ‘till the end ‘n y’r still this fuckin’ soaked. now open up for me.”

you gulp, leaning back against the mattress while feeling the sharp gaze of an unruly demon. he’s got a relaxed expression, but he rubs the tip of both dicks against your wet pussy. “wha—”

“lets use that brain today,” he grunts, and your back spontaneously arches forward the moment you feel both dampened tips glide its way down your inviting slit. “spread ‘em. since you wanna call me ‘toji’ i’ll have to remind this cunt how’s it feel to be stuffed by two fuckin’ cocks, whore.”

CHOSO KAMO ☆

with choso, he’d be having you in classic missionary, interlocking his tangled fingers with yours the entire time. your touch to him was a treasure he never wanted to lose. its warmth, he feels a sudden flutter school its way into his heart and he lets off a relaxed sigh. fevered skin presses against your body directly underneath him and he can’t help but gaze into your eyes. so so pretty, that natural doe-eyes look, pupils all irised and shimmering in the sunlight — you’re simply ethereal. his heart’s racing and racing, each beat gets quicker by the second. with a single tugging gnaw at his bottom lip he tugs the skin at his teeth. your grip has him lost in a gaze, and he can’t help but moan your name again and again.

he moans it continuously in such a sweet, swooning tune until he’s a broken record. he’s so in love. choso continues to moan it until each syllable of your name gets stuck on his tongue like gum. after a few moments, he’s now whining your name, continuing to tenderly grind his hips into you at such a passionate pace. babbles of broken whimpers make its way out of his lips as he’s sputtering nonsense, locking each finger with yours. his grip was tight because he never wanted to let you go.

he couldn’t.

choso was always gentle with you, he treated you like you were glass, glass preparing to crack and break. but he never wanted to break you.

warm, feverish breaths pant and collide against each other’s mouths as he’s taking turns from sucking on your collarbone or your neck. “ngh, my baby’s s- so pretty,” he huffs, gently swaying his hips roughly yet tenderly into you. choso had the rhythm and he had the pace— it was never a dull moment with him. you were about to cream down his cock again, nirvana surging through your veins as your legs wrap around his waist. his body height hovers over you and it’s so hypnotic.

choso’s hair - it’s usually in two ponytails but now, it’s all loose and unkempt. a few ravened strands even prod its way against your forehead.

it’s prickling your skin, tickling against you within each thrust. each sloppy stroke bucking into your sweet sweet core.

“no, p- please, look at me, please,” he mumbles in a soft tone, dark arched brows curling up into a needful furrow. a thumb strums against the outline of your jaw before he gives it a benign kiss. delicately, your chin gets pulled up gently with a big hand and he pouts until your eyes finally meets his.

finally,

your cunt greedily clings onto him tight, speaking of tight - that’s all you felt. for a while anyway,

your legs securely sling around his slim waist as if it was a snake. his thrusts were always so merciless and grim, no matter how tender he was with you, how gentle. choso was always gentle, yet he’s had the stamina of a horse. he always wanted to make sure you were feeling good at all costs. the moment his eyes meet yours, he feels a pang of love welt its way into his heart. “jus lookin’ at you ‘s gonna make me cum,” he whimpers, his body jittering just from the thought.

body against body, skin against skin,

choso leans in to kiss you, practically humping against your pussy. he’s so feral for you. he’s so feral and oh, he just can’t help it.

it was cute,

the half curse was trying his best to make you feel good because his pleasure was your pleasure at the end of the day.

his tongue ploddingly glides against yours before he starts to suck it, gasping once he feels your clit convulse against his thwacking tip. choso was forevermore weak from your tender kisses. “mhh,” you speak between sultry wet kisses, and his body remains to grind against yours. hovering over you completely, a thumb of his roams down the palm of your sweaty hand. pulling away, you moan out a shrilling whimper, “s- sukuna—”

yet, by coincidence you’re not the only person to blurt out the wrong name, because choso ends up finishing inside, a thick stringy load of cum pours its way into the inner depths of your searing warm cunt. tossing his head back in lewd rapture, choso grabs onto your thigh, only for his head to collapse into your chest. with a whiney mumble, he whines out a sweet. “y- yuki, mommy.”

“what?”

“what?”

[rougepearl]

SFW & NSFW Headcanons BSD Men

(Chuuya, Fyodor, Nikolai) MDNI

ᯓ★ Chuuya Nakahara

•Wine collection that dates back all the way to the 1920s

•Favorite season is fall

•Prefers to wear nice almost like dressing shoes

•Thinks older models of cars are nicer looking

•Would prefer to stay in and cook a nice dinner then eat out

•When someone is near his locked office, he'll have you stuff your mouth with his shirt that'll smell like his soft cologne while he fucks your tired pussy

•In bed he prefers to tie your hands with a tie he'll usually have around

•Around 5.6 inches, more girth than length

•Likes to bite your lip while he kisses you when he's going slow with you

•Probably has a small whip around in his room that he uses to slap your ass

ᯓ★ Fyodor Dostoesvky

•Definitely likes to keep flowers in vases around the house

•Likes to watch crime documentaries and criticizes where the person went wrong

•Seems like the type to have a small radio while doing some kind of hobby

•If he wasn't a psychopath, he'd wear a satchel around to carry his items such as books, personal items, etc.

•Likes to sit on public benches in nice areas and read his book or enjoy the scenery

•He likes to tie you up and eat your pussy out while he also watches you squirm

•Likes to wrap his hands on your hips and hold you down on his dick

•Teases you the entire way through it, then degrades you at the same time

•Likes to watch you play with yourself while he watches through the hidden cameras around your room

•Will have you keep your gaze at him and him only when he's thrusting into you

ᯓ★ Nikolai Gogol

•While liking magic tricks, he dosent know that many himself

•Most likely has a silver cigarette case even if he dosent smoke, uses it for collected items

•Is actually paler than Fyodor, considering he is anemic too. Results to him having a redder nose during winter

•Isn't actually white-haired, naturally is a level 9 to 10 blonde, but tried dying his hair very light purple during his teens years, and accidently neutralized it

•Has a thing for knitting sweaters

•Shows absolutely no mercy when going down on you, would cover your mouth and almost have you suffocate yourself with your own moans

•With his ability he would try to tease your inner thighs while he was just next room, but only when you were on a call with someone else

•Sucks the soul of your neck collarbone and upper chest, leaves very dark marks that wouldn't leave for the next days or so

•Favorite position is classic missionary, because he'll make you think it's vanilla for one night but then flip you over and onto the next position and the next

•Likes it when your juices mix with his while he's deep inside of you

[hwajin]

★༉‧₊˚✧ — 𝖜𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖗

𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 004. — 𝐇𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐍 | 𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐧

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: smut, hints of angst

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: siren!hyunjin x fem!reader

𝖘𝖞𝖓𝖔𝖕𝖘𝖎𝖘: initially, he played with you. manipulated you into his trance because it was his calling, hypnotizing you to fall under his mercy — he never expected you to do the same to him, to be intoxicating, to be utterly addicting.

𝖜𝖈: 2.9k

𝖈𝖜: oral (f receiving), fingering, edging, piv, unprotected sex, cumming inside, slight dacryphilia, hints of unrequited love, hints of manipulation (since hyunjin's a siren-)

— series masterlist

His fingers on your skin cold, wet, enticing. His pale lips made their journey against your body, kissing and leaving moist patches on moister skin, giving a bite or two, simply to hear you whine, to feel you squirm beneath his touch. You never wanted to miss it, his touch, always urged for more when he was on the brink to pull away.

You met Hyunjin by the lake, as always from the very moment you had first encountered him – a picknick by yourself, a book on your legs and the sun in your face, and he had stood before you. Had sung a melody so pretty you’d been under his mercy momentarily; and ever since you’d been addicted. Hyunjin needn’t to sing to lure you in anymore, needn’t to use his voice on you to make you want him; you started coming to the lake voluntarily, always waiting for him to show up again, always eager. Maybe his voice had put on a permanent effect on you, a long-term spell. Maybe your longing for the man was illusionary, created by him simply to toy with you – to have his fun before he vanished again, because he never stayed. The very moment he left you and him satisfied he was gone in the blink of an eye, before you’ve had the chance to come to your senses. He slipped away from under your touch as quickly as he emerged, as though not real at all, as though a produce of your imagination.

Hyunjin’s teeth grazed your skin, not leaving a spot of yours untouched, not tended to. You were laying on wettened grass, green and fresh beneath you, paying little mind to the way it soaked you, the way it made you shiver in your place. You’d started to care far less about your clothes or hair soaking whenever with him, started to be reminded of him when in contact with water, in its simplest form – drinking a glass you imagined his wet lips on your own, taking a shower you felt his body all over yours, his hands on your hips and his chest atop yours. It was pathetic almost, reeked of hopeless desperation; and then you kept coming to the lake, kept coming and looking for him, kept stilling desperation only for it to flame within you again, not seconds after your ways parted.

The sky above you made Hyunjin’s figure hovering over your own seem vibrant, glistening almost against grey heavens and fog, beaming in shining droplets of water against cold autumn which lay everything in gloom darkness. His body was everywhere, indulging into you, fully submerging you into the spell of his, into the illusion of his love. You lay under his mercy, hopeless with every touch he granted you, needy for ever more when he as much as shifted in his place. His lips continued their journey on your body – giving a kiss to your temple, to your forehead, far too tender, far too loving; moving on to lips and jaw, more urgent now, more vigorous, mouth having missed yours, inhaling your every sound, making your breath his own, bitten lips caressing chin, biting at sharpened jaw; kissing down delicate neck, teeth breaking softness of thin skin, painting dark flowers onto body, nearly drawing blood; moving down to nibble at shoulders, at collarbones and chest, to soothe with kisses momentarily; doting on waist and hips, leaving matching bruises, painting images of love. You doubted it was any more than that, an image simply – yet you let yourself get lost in it, letting yourself lull into prettiest colours and promises, if only for the moment, if only for the few hours spent with him.

Hyunjin looked up at you from beneath his lashes, long and dripping water, seducing you with not more than a gaze. His eyes dark, deep, bearing oceans. He had the powers to drown you, and you were foolish enough in trying to swim.

His hands accompanied his lips on their path across your body, though it was a far messier one. His palms everywhere at once, halting on cheeks or breasts or hips for only mere moments before they were gone again, eager to touch more of you, to explore your every inch, your every hill and vale, the very flaws upon your skin. He was everywhere and nowhere, leaving you hungry for his hold, his grip on you yet granting you more than you were capable of taking. He marked you entirely as his, going as far as marking your soul, carving his name into its’ pages for you to never forget, to always remember. He was intoxicating, manipulating, impossible to refuse.

His kisses tickled your thighs. You lay exposed before him and he latched onto your inner plush, softly, giving kitten licks to pubic bone, only to kiss, just to see you squirm. He was taking his time with you, testing his own patience – you were long hot and bothered, and Hyunjin – seemingly composed – wasn’t any better. Every of your whimper, your every spasm and plea drove him further to senselessness, to overbearing thirst. He didn’t know quite when his touches on your body started to linger, when his heart started aching whenever he submerged into the lake again, whenever he left you laying on the grass only to come back the next day to find you in the same spot, waiting for him. He didn’t know when looking at you started to pang at his heart, because suddenly aware of the impossibility of it – such feelings weren’t in his nature. You shouldn’t be the one luring him in, you shouldn’t be the one taking up every last bit of his mind, you the only thought playing on a loop. You shouldn’t have the same effect he had on you; it was his power to have, a mere human like you wasn’t supposed to confuse everything he’s thought to know about himself.

He kept teasing, didn’t let your whines of desperation get the better of him. He liked taking his time with you – it allowed him to stay with you longer under the pretence of simply looking for pleasure. He watched you, your every move – your body was covered in purple and blue, in blemishes and marks he’d created, his love blossoming on your skin. Your face was contorted, seemingly struggling, longing simply for relief, for more than Hyunjin was giving you now. His lips grazing your skin, moving closer and some more to your core only to pull away, to let his hands wander upon your body and lay his kisses onto tummy or thighs. You chased after every touch, body moving wherever his hands met, arching and pleading. Your hands helpless – you didn’t dare touch him, because you deemed it too intimate. He would turn real if your hands caressed him the same way his ones did, and you felt far too weak to contain yourself from falling under his spell fully, if he only felt attainable. You let a conscious distance, to save yourself, to save your heart – you wondered if it was all too late entirely.

It felt like salvation. You had almost lost hope, had almost started begging and pleading for relief when suddenly you felt it, Hyunjin’s lips on your core, testing waters. Giving kitten licks only to sensitive clit, soft tongue against wetness. It was far too little to what you needed, what you had begged off him for the past half hour you had lay before him, yet the little pleasure he granted, teasing and edging and mean, was enough already after all to send you through insanity. It made you want more while fighting oversensitivity, it had you pleading for his body while the tip of his tongue alone was far too much to bear. You wanted him entirely while having him excessively.

And Hyunjin wanted you to have him, wanted to be yours. Near impossible to resist your wishes he gave in, after all, despite wanting to drag this affair out, to lay with you until late morning hours, side by side throughout hours of dark. He dove in, mouth now lapping onto you, barely capable to contain his own urges – your smell was enticing, your taste more so, the way you felt beneath his touch made Hyunjin forget all about his very being, the bare purpose he walked this planet for; to lure in helpless humans, to sing prettiest melodies and eat them alive. He forgot all about it when his tongue licked a thick stripe from your entrance to your clit, his groan vibrating through you, the tune of his voice intoxicating you. He forgot all about it when his fingers dug deeper into your thighs, drawing blue bruises, when his mouth sucked onto your sensitivity, when he kissed around your core, when he returned to your entrance, tip of his tongue prodding against. When your fingers found his wettened hair, entangling into it, fiddling with strands, pulling at his scalp and his head closer, drawing pain he moaned at. He forgot all about himself in you, and it scared him. Hopelessness like this, not less about a human like you was foreign to his kind, his species, and he wondered if he was twisted. If maybe not true to his nature at all, too weak and foolish to be a creature of seduction, the very embodiment of lust.

Though he couldn’t mind, not with you beneath him, not now. You were writhing underneath his touch, muttering his name in whines and whimpers. His mouth’s ministrations never halted, never stopped on your cunt – he made you soak in arousal, his tongue back on your clit and two of his digits teasing at your hole. Your hips rutted against him, careless of the way you shoved him deeper into you. He enjoyed it, you were aware – Hyunjin was neither scared nor incapable of holding down your hips to keep you still, to have his way with you, yet you learned he enjoyed feeling you fuck yourself against him on occasion, rutting and grinding your pussy against him to your liking, using him as nothing more than a tool for your pleasure. He enjoyed your desperation, your visible frustration – it was teasing malice under pretence of permitted control.

His fingers entered you with no resistance, wetness gushing out of you, your back arching into him, feeling a portion of possible pleasure with the curve of his hand, the pressure of his palm against your pubis. He kept a steady pace while rising to your chest, lips kissing wherever they lay, nibbling on skin, teeth grazing hardened nipples. The pads of his fingers caressing the cushion within you, prodding against it, eliciting sounds of you he dreamed of in his sleeps. Your voice whiny, breathy, hushed.

“Please… Hyunjin.”

He wasn’t one to deny you – had once been though learned the pleasures of giving into you. He understood without much more, with two of your words, not more but a plea, a hopeless attempt at asking for more, asking for something, anything; asking for him. You would never say the words – I want you; I need more of you; I want this to last forever; Stay – and yet Hyunjin liked to pretend it was the meaning behind your begging, the very core of your longing, your craving for him. Liked to pretend for feeling naïve himself to wish upon you, upon a life with you. If he pretended you wanted him as much as he wanted you it eased his aching heart, his yearning soul. If he pretended, he could bear himself a little more, the pain that final reality brought upon.

You were close, Hyunjin could feel it. Your walls were clenching around him in spasms, your voice a higher pitch, your legs on verge of giving out – you pleaded, further and further, his thrusting continued, increased in speed, his palm coming in contact with your clit with every movement – and he pulled away. Watched and watched you intently, and denying you the bliss of orgasm right when you’d swear to be tasting it on your tongue, right when it was within fingers reach. You whined out, long and drawn out, frustrated. Hyunjin has taken what you needed most when you needed it most – an irony within itself, seemingly his entire persona; disappearing when you most wished for him, after giving you a mere taste of it.

His fingers left you, frantic suddenly, remaining patience of his vanished. One would not blame him – the way you stared him down, desperation laced beneath your eyes, your lips caught between your teeth, your hands clinging onto him, pulling him closer, legs caging him in; anyone in love would have fallen far deeper, and he was no exception. His heart swelling at a sheer look at you, your touch igniting fires within him, so very untypical, so very strange. Though he didn’t have enough time to overthink it – you pulled him in for a kiss, deep and passionate, breathless. He melted into you, your mouth a shore his waters collided with, pulling him deeper into you, turning him to an addict.

His erection – painful and abandoned – lay hard between your bodies, cold against your thigh, tip against your core when Hyunjin shifted. He grew impatient, his very own tedious ministrations on you having weakened him just as much, more so, you’d argue. He was leaking, pearly white cum dripping down the length of his shaft, painting his blue veins in white, making you salivate at the sight alone. You arched into him, back lifting from the grass beneath you slightly, enough for Hyunjin to hook his hand beneath it, to draw you closer. The other hand guiding his tip against your entrance, spreading his precum against your slit before nudging in, finally, entering you slowly, inch by inch. You were sensitive, spent after simply teasing, Hyunjin pent up, denied – both of you would last laughable seconds if you only lost an ounce of control, of carefully tended composure. Overwhelming pleasure flooding your bodies, two whimpers of desperation merging into one at sheer contact – none of you moved yet and both of you reduced to a hopeless mess, embarrassing if the circumstances were different. Right this moment, with Hyunjin’s body atop yours, with his tip teasing at your cervix and his hands holding a tight grip on your flesh neither of you was clear minded enough to care. Lost in the other, indulging in the sight, in the scent and feel of skin against skin, wettened, laced in water and sweat, dripping pearls grazing shoulders and tummies and plush thighs, cold water everywhere.

And Hyunjin started moving. Fluid motions against you typical for him, body moving in soft waves always, whether he was walking or fucking into you. His hips gave you no chance of catching your breath – you felt losing control of your body as his own swam against you, pulling out of you until the tip to enter you entirely again, deeply, deeper with every thrust. Dignity, control, coherence left you bit by bit, with every kiss Hyunjin granted against your temple, onto your neck, littering you with wettened paths of his lips on your skin. With every further second you drowned into him, deeper and with no return, sinking meters of depth he presented you. Your hips desperate, chasing his own, your hands homeless, searching for a leverage, for a steady place to stabilize.

And tears rolled down your cheeks, wet and thick, droplets of water against your skin. More tears with every of Hyunjin’s thrusts, with every additional kiss, with every time his palm pressed onto your body harsher, as though scared you’d slip away from underneath his touch. His hips stuttered at the sight of you – entirely water, him having made you, wetness on your body; behind your lids, on your lips, wetness on your cunt. He had lay you in waters entirely, having lulled you into his world, having made you his, and his mind reeled off any sense. He was obsessed with you, addicted hopelessly. His body spasming, two of his digits toying at your clit desperately – he wouldn’t be able to hold his orgasm out much longer so hoping you would reach yours.

Your legs tightening against his torso, your nails clawing into him, daring to draw blood, painting desperation onto his body, your face contorting into pleasure, brows furrowed and mouth agape, head fallen into your neck – and you came in gushing wetness around him, coating him in your release, fluttering around his length enough to pull release out of him in spurts of white, coating your walls, wetting you further. You were messes, both of you, panting, chests heaving up and down – and he stayed. Calming down from your orgasm and Hyunjin hadn’t disappeared. His lingering touch on your body, his lips remaining on your skin, your jaw and neck and shoulders, licking over the bruises he'd drawn onto you. He stayed to lick your mixed release off you, lapping up your essence, basking in your scent, the taste of you. And his heart clenched when it was time to leave, after all – though not with a last longing kiss against your lips, slow and drawn out; maybe you should keep hoping, maybe you shouldn’t quit seeing him by the lake day by day, after all.

@reianagarcia @mixtape-racha @bbyboychanyeol @artisticbirb @fire-08 @lxverss @unlikelysublimekryptonite @aiko0invalid @salfetkablog @saintriots @boi-bi-ahaha @summer3sworld @bangchans-angel @jenos-eye-smiles @alnex05 @imwithurmother @yangjeonginswifee @hydroyaksha @starlit-rin @channiesgoodgirl @lizzetmv @poody1608 @fandems @stanskzsstuff @cypher-girlx @kayleigh-28 @jetblackbelle @agnes-king @seoseoya @lipstickandloveletters @viviixlyy @hanjisungsgirl @having-an-internal-crisis-rn @es-kay-zee @jeyelleohe @angelwonie @yvniek4ng @ppiri-bahng @bintificreads @svintsandghosts @llunapastell @sensitiveandhungry @minniesvenus @junebug032 @noellllslut @wolfennracha @unexceptional-h @like-a-diamondinthesky

@katsukis1wife

[sweetteainthesummerx]

THE LOVE LASTS SO LONG (4)

In which Ollie and Aubrey's interaction is captured online

series masterlist

notes: hey y'all! this is super slow burn but I promise its worth it :) Leave a comment ( I go feral for those) and ask to be added on the tag list if u please

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

f1_09gossips posted

clip one: An iPhone camera captures a slightly grainy video of Aubrey Yang, wearing a newly given Ferrari cap, greeting Charles Leclerc and Alexandra Saint Mleux after the Monaco Grand Prix. She shakes his hand and gives her a hug in greeting. The three converse in rapid French, laughing once in a while. Ollie Bearman walks by mid-conversation, and Charles grabs his arm. The tall boy turns and sees Audrey, cheeks flushing visibly. Her back is now turned to the camera, but she waves and he smiles at her. The paddock is crowded and loud, but the camera shakily zooms in on the group. She shakes his hand, and he bends down to ask her something, speaking into her ear. She smiles and nods and he looks to his manager for something. His manager hands him his phone and he takes a selfie with her. He lifts his arm and she slides under it as he hands the phone to Charles. They both hold up peace signs, arms wrapped around the other. She offers him a hug as his manager calls him to leave to an interview. He returns it eagerly, bending down a little to hug her properly. Her hands loop under his arms to pat at his back gently, and his are wrapped around her waist. When they break, he says something again and waves as he leaves. Alexandra and Charles watch on with thoughtful looks on their faces.

clip two: Aubrey Yang, walking hand in hand with Lily Muni He as the two navigate through the paddock.

f1_09gossips Aubrey Yang seen in the paddocks yesterday!

liked by 302 others

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dudududumvp GUYS I SAW THEM and let me tell u ollie was fangirling

-- user1 hello???

-- dudududumvp yeah he was blushing and everything it was so cute

aubreyyang posted

aubreyyang Was an absolute privilege to film in my home city. WE LOVE YOU VANCOUVER 🇨🇦

White Jade Tiger is a project that is so close to my heart. As a second generation immigrant, this book meant so much to me as a child. Now, getting to play Jasmine and bring her story as well as thousands of others to life is an honour. Oh, and a Dallas pic to feed your soul :)

WHITE JADE TIGER OUT JANUARY 2025

tagged: whitejadetigermovie, dallas_liu

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, olliebearman and 670,332 others

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dallas_liu 🔥🔥🔥

user1 oh i didn't know she was canadian

-- aubreyyang born and bred, baby!

-- aubygfan1 OMG ILYSM

charlesleclerc felicitations!

-- aubreyyang merci! j'espère de vous voir (et Alex) à la première

-- f1wagsfvr damn everyones flocking to her insta she must be so lovely

-- dior.n.goodjohn trust me she is

-- user2 dior what r u doing here 😭

macecoronel congrats!

this comment was removed

WESTERN ASIA MEDIA PRESENTS

Dallas Liu and Aubrey Yang for White Jade Tiger

Western Asia Media Interviewer: Welcome, you guys!

Dallas Liu: Thanks for having us, man.

Aubrey Yang: It's so good to see you!

WAMI: It really is. Last time we saw you both, you were working on Crazy Rich Asians and Shang Chi respectively.

DL: laughs and shakes his head. Woah, that was actually so long ago.

AY: Don't, I feel old.

WASMI: Okay, so before we get started, we have a couple of personal questions... Aubrey, we didn't know you spoke French!

AY: Oh, that. I grew up speaking Canadian French at school, because it's mandatory in Canada. But actually, I've met some really good friends lately who are Monégasque, so my accent has been leaning towards there.

WASMI: Are these friends by any chance very famous motorsports racers?

AY: Yeah, Charles and Alex. They're both super cool.

WASMI: Onto you, Dallas...

f1wags posted

f1wags Ferrari rookie Ollie Bearman and model girlfriend, have allegedly broken up, according to sources.

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user1 NO WAY

bearmanheart MY CHANCE BRO

user2 aww they were cute

user3 rip

olliebearman posted

olliebearman Monaco you never disappoint 🇲🇨 ❤️

liked by charlesleclerc, aubreyyang and 78,972 others

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user1 i think him and Estelle actually did break up she hasnt been at any of the races for like weeks

-- user2 do uk why

-- user3 prob because shes so much older

charlesleclerc what are you doing partying 🤨

-- olliebearman sorry dad 😔

aubrie_yangfan WAIT IS THE BREAK UP CONFIRMED my Aubrey ollie pipeline might come tru

-- username5 ur actually delusional 😭

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

Taglist: @callsignwidow

© sweetteainthesummerx.tumblr. all rights reserved. unauthorized copying, translation, or claiming of my writing or any works as your own is strictly prohibited.

[kxlitz]

Hi, i'm loving your work, you're so talented. I was wondering if you could do an arguing with the Kaulitz twins (separate) HC please? ❤

I sure can!! Tysm for the request ִ ࣪𖤐

✶ Arguing with the Kaulitz Twins ✶

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

★ Bill Kaulitz ★

Let’s start softly

This may have been said many, many, many times but it’s true. You guys rarely fight, but! When it comes to little arguments over some petty topics I’m afraid it’s the opposite.

It never lasts long.

You accidentally pulled a loose thread on his silk shirt? He’s going to pout about it for the next thirty minutes

You stepped on him? He will dramatically say you’re plotting against him

Missed a chord on stage? Oh he will be genuinely annoyed for a little while

When it comes to serious arguments though, you need something big to anger him so badly.

It would start just like your usual bickering. Making petty remarks at each other and someetimes avoiding the main issue.

Once his face drops and he goes completely serious you know it's about to go down.

Bill can be very pigheaded so he will stick to his point no matter what. He likes being right just as he likes being in control.

He's the type to speak really fast and cut your word because he feels the need to explain himself.

Is very consious of what he says though, he will never say something hurtful that he doesn't mean.

It's a different story if he actually means it. He's brutally honest and if you did something bad he will tell you without sugarcoating it, even if it can come across as rude.

Bill can take a lot in but there's always a point where he breaks, it's normal.

Look he's not a rude person at all, but he's not one to let things slide either.

A flaw of his is that he may say a hundred things at once and expect you to listen through but there's times when one of your first replies will make him cry or freak out right away. Ofc not always but it's one of the things Bill would need to work on.

He is not that aggressive but is VERY defensive.

Bill doesn't like conflict though, this is really a worst case scenario where something comes up and you guys need to argue it out.

Friendly reminder that it is necessary in relationships to argue from time to time as long as it stays healthy.

If the argument gets too heated Bill prefers that you both part ways for a couple hours to cool down. Then you discuss again after re-arranging your thoughts.

At the end of the day he never meant wrong, he just wants to fix whatever came up.

Bill would feel terrible after you fight. He genuinely fears you’ll leave him or start hating him.

Would not apologize instantly because his pride plays a big game, but give it some minutes or an hour; worst case a day and he will come back sobbing and asking for your forgiveness, expressing how much he loves you and how he never meant to fight.

You’re the type to be angry at each other but still cuddle at night.

Hug him and tell him he's valid please.

☆ Tom Kaulitz ☆

Tom, Tom, Tom

Believe it or not, Tom becomes quite submissive when he's very emphatuated with someone.

He really is at your mercy.

Yet it doesn't change the fact that he's a bit of a hot-head and just like Bill, he likes when he's right.

Let's not forget Tom was a bit of a punk activist growing up. You get what I mean when I say that be likes to get his point across. (Y'all need to read Bill's book if you speak/understand german it's a GEM. There's also a girl narrating some of it in spanish on YT :)

Unfortunately, arguments do happen often. Sometimes it’s really nothing but other times it can get pretty ugly.

When you guys are mad at each other everyone knows that it's better to leave you be because it will get loud.

Your fights range from small discussions that you have often to actual screaming matches when it gets bad.

It's inevitable for the both of you to raise your voices as each other in these cases.

The reasons may vary. It can be miscommunication, ESPECIALLY in 2006-8 when you were still young teens experiencing the world of fame.

Jealousy, for sure. I can see Tom being skilled enough at hiding it but he’s very possessive still.

And well, it’s still Tom. Again if you focus on his earlier years of fame the amount of girls throwing themselves at him can definitely be a cause of conflict.

Unless you’re very chill about it.

There’s definitely still possessiveness on Tom’s side.

I feel like neither of you would really know how to process the frustration.

A little thing to take into consideration is that you’d be the couple that argues, yell that you hate each other and then 10 minutes later you’ll be back to normal and never speak of it again.

Which you need to work on.

It’s because of this very reason that some of your fighting topics can be repetitive.

From what the twins have confessed, they could get pretty aggressive with their surroundings.

Tom would never, NEVER, raise a hand at you. No need to worry.

But the items around him can’t say the same.

He’s the kind of person that feels the anger in him build up physically and needs some release. When he’s fuming, in the worst of scenarios some tables would be kicked or some object would fly around. Just never at you.

This habit does get worked on throughout time though, he matures and grows.

The only physical fight that would ever go down is a pillow fight. Or play fights. Or in bed. But that’s another story.

A bit similar to Bill, Tom needs some time to cool off, just does it more impulsively.

He would walk out sometimes because it’s far too overwhelming.

Makeup sex is a big thing in your relationship.

Tom would love to express himself better and talk things through he simply needs help doing it.

Maybe you’re the help he needs.

[zu-is-here]

cant overestimate how much i love the greek au! even if cream won't happen i absolutely adore the one sided pining with the very conflicted Cross aaa <3 and goodness Shattered showing him mercy (well, it counts in my book!) by putting him into a sleep rather than killing him? god i live for soft mercies like that! even if he did just beat him up LMAO

also... i may be delusional but the parallel between Shattered putting his wife into a sleep and putting Cross into a sleep... further giving credence to the 'Cross is Shattered's wife with amnesia' headcanon methinksx)

Heheh I'm happy to hear it, thank youuu! (〃ω〃) Indeed, Hypnos even laid Cross' bloody head on his lap to make it softer for him to sleep... (It counts <3)

PFFF well that's be an unexpected turn of events XD

Very attentive of you! (๑･̑◡･̑๑)★

Cross realizes he's in a dream cause they find themselves in a place that no longer exists; Hypnos didn't know about it cause he created the dream only from Cross' happy memories. His beautiful illusion is destroyed (you can see the fire at the end), so he tells Cross the truth.

Pasithea doesn't realize she's sleeping cause in her dream, she keeps living her old life with Hypnos, the one she always knew, and has no idea that things have changed.

[dickmedowndc]

Kiss Tax - Bart Allen x Reader

Word Count: 1,856

Summary: Bart had always been affectionate in your relationship. Quick to give or ask for anything from a hug to a kiss – the latter of which he had made a habit of giving before each mission he went on. At least when it wasn’t something last minute or it was manageable. But you had finally decided to return the affections more yourself, beginning to ask for a “kiss tax” on small things such as passing through the door or handing over a drink. A practice that Bart seemed more than happy to adopt and turn around on you just as quickly. 

Notes: Partially inspired by something from Feels Like Fighting Gravity, one of my upcoming OC/Canon fics, where Wisteria tends to demand a “kiss tax” for things – I thought it was cute. Also, inspired by a relationship headcanon that Bart tries to kiss his partner before each mission, just in case.

…★…

It was quiet. 

Far too quiet. 

You had been reading in absolute silence by the window for some time now, a storm pounding on the windowpane in a consistent lull, only interrupted by the bright white flash of lightning and the cracks of ground shaking thunder that sent a vibration through your home and body. 

The quietness that had you narrowing your eyes and sliding a bookmark between pages was not the silence of nature – not with its ongoing war cry – but rather the silence of your home. It was unnerving, unnatural, after becoming so used to the sounds of a speedster making himself comfortable within the walls. Setting the book aside you reached over, grabbing your phone and flicking the screen on to see the time: 4:57 PM. Bart had been due back from his 3-day mission more than 3 hours ago. Granted, it wasn’t uncommon for a speedster to be late back from anything, but for such a stretch of time with no word from him, it was becoming concerning. 

But you had faith in your partner and knew when he was free from his duties or the debriefing – or wherever he was – that he would be back. That was not to say, however, that it would stop you from curling up on your bed and waiting a bit longer. At least you told yourself that had been the plan, but the moment that your head hit the pillows you found your eyes were growing heavy without your consent and you fell asleep. 

When you woke later it was with a start and a pressure pressed against your entire body, one that was vibrating as it laughed. Just as quickly your eyes flew open and landed on your boyfriend, all too amused with himself and face shoved into the crook of your neck as he continued to shake in his absolute mirth. 

Finally, he stopped, just long enough so he could peak up at you and the faint mumbling against your skin could be deciphered. “Did you miss me?” 

“I always miss you,” you assure, bringing a hand up to run it through his fluffy hair. “But I’m also starting to miss sleep.” 

He said nothing, only pressing a series of too-quick kisses against whatever exposed skin he could reach. The actions leaving you a squirming mess under him as you tried desperately to avoid his attacks, finding yourself short of breath soon enough. 

“Bart please, please stop,” you gasped out, one hand trying to pull his head back by his hair, knowing you weren’t hurting him too much, and the other trying to shove him back by one of his shoulders. It did little to dissuade him, his onslaught continued until there were tears in the corners of your eyes and you could no longer beg for him to show mercy. It shouldn’t have tickled you too much, and perhaps you should have seen it coming, but it was the very speed that he left those feather light touches, and the hands on your side keeping you from hiding, that made it all the harder to calm down. 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Bart stilled. His hands were still planted firmly on your sides, but he allowed his body to collapse onto yours. He seemed as content as could be to just rest his head on your chest, looking up at you with faux innocence as though he had not been lovingly tormenting you only moments ago. He was good at that, and he knew it. “Too cute to be mad at” you had said one time, and he had run with it for situations such as this. 

Finally free to take in as much air as our lungs burned for you could finally calm down. With one hand limp at your side, the other that remained webbed through strands of his hair had just enough feeling for you to pull him forward. “Come here,” you murmured, pressing a quick kiss to his lips when he finally complied. When you opened your eyes and pulled away, the only thing that you could see was the elated grin of your partner. 

“What was that for?” 

“A kiss tax, you have to pay a kiss tax now.” 

Bart cocked his brow at you. “What am I paying for?” 

“For tickling me, you menace. And maybe I’ll make you pay another one for being cute.” 

“What if I don’t want to pay the tax?” 

“Sorry,” you huffed, a gentle hand to his cheek, “no tax fraud allowed.” 

Bart only laughed, following your gentle pull before kissing you once again. “For being attractive?” 

You rolled your eyes at his words, moving to correct him swiftly. “For being criminally cute.” 

“I think I can live with the kiss tax, even if it’s just to get you to start kisses more.” 

You waved him aside, knowing it wasn’t a rude jab. Bart had known about your shy nature and your hesitance at giving physical affection on that level. It was well discussed. But it did not stop him from poking fun at it on the rare occasion. 

But what you had not known that day, after fully deciding to lean into the kiss tax idea - because your boyfriend deserved it, and always made time to give you what physical affection he could, including a goodbye kiss before every mission – was just how happy it would make Bart. And just how eager he would be to pay said tax for each little thing. 

But three weeks later it was resoundingly clear to you. 

Bart had always been the more affectionate of the two of you – not that it wasn’t mutual. But he had never shied away from asking or surprising you with hugs or a quick kiss, he gave compliments like he needed to do so to breathe. It was a pre-fight good luck charm for him to find you wherever you were and kiss you before he had to go unless he did not have the time. Hand holding, domestic mornings just cuddling in bed, hyping you up to those around you. It was just the way he was. 

And in private you returned his affections. Your own flustered nature leaving you stuttered over it in the company of others. You enjoyed it nonetheless. 

But now Bart had gotten a taste of you regularly starting these moments, and he was enjoying it. 

“Can you hand me that water?” he called, puppy dog eyes on full display as he stared longingly at the bottle from over the bed of the couch. 

You could only shake your head at his antics before bringing it to him, still partially distracted by something you had been reading on your phone; Anita had been recorded during one of her saves recently and you were checking the highlights, mentally reminding yourself to congratulate her later. Your train of thought was interrupted when Bart cleared his throat. Puzzled, you stopped, looking at him in a silent question of what was wrong. 

“I have to pay the tax, don’t I?” 

You could feel the way your lips twitched up at the corner. You couldn’t miss the chance to mess with him. “I don’t know if I'll be collecting any tax on water.” 

He looked like a kicked puppy almost immediately. He would put Dox to shame with the sad eyes he was pulling. 

“But you took tax the other day.” 

You could only roll your eyes before motioning him forward, the air knocked from your lungs when he practically threw himself over your lap. So much for reading the rest of the article, you mused, tossing your phone aside. You took a moment and just squished his face between your hands, earning a grumble as he turned away to break your hold. “Alright,” you said, relenting at last, “come here you big baby.” 

Bart was more than happy to oblige, stealing a kiss faster than you could even register the act. 

But when he pulled back, he had that look on his face you sometimes found you would regret later, like he knew something, or was planning something. You ignored it, knowing full and well that if he wanted to keep his secrets for the time he would, especially if he thought it would make the payout all the better. 

The best you could do was enjoy the tranquility of the moment and resign yourself to whatever fate awaited you. 

That fate, as you found out only hours later, was Bart now flipping the script on you. 

Where it had previously been you requesting a kiss tax before letting him into your bedroom, Bart now stood in front of it, puffed out and taking up as much space as he could. “You need to pay the tax, sorry babe.” 

You snorted and crossed your arms. “I need to pay the tax in my own place?” 

“Don’t you do that already?” 

Your arms drop to your sides as you sigh. “Alright, come here, you.” You pull him forward and give him a kiss, before ducking under him and making for the kitchen before he can change just how much tax you owe. Not that trying to outrun him has ever worked in your favor before anyways, but it always seems to make the both of you laugh, and that’s enough. 

But his demands for kisses don’t stop there, and you find that Bart seems to have found a new past time – finding what things he can still do for you and still be able to collect tax. It isn’t every time, thankfully, so it keeps you on your toes enough. Nor does it seem to diminish just how excited that he gets each time you still make him pay with a quick kiss as well. 

That’s good, because the way he lights up is something that you’re hoping you get to see for a long time to come still. 

An admission you let slip after stealing another kiss when he tries to pull you in to cuddle. 

Bart seems to go completely soft at that, eyes half lidded, and arms thrown around your waist so he can pull away long enough to just watch you for the moment. “Anybody saying you can’t?” 

“No, but I wanted you to know. I don’t always tell you as much as I maybe should.” 

Bart breaks out in a smile there – he could put the sun to shame – but it’s just as soft as it is bright. “You show me all the time.” 

You can only raise a brow at that. “Really?” 

“You do,” he insists, pulling you closer. “It didn’t take me that long to figure out how you show it.” 

It's like a weight you didn’t know had been there is lifted when he says that. The kiss tax had been in part to show him that you cared just as much, and knowing that he already knew? It put you at ease. Enough so that you quickly found yourself curling into his chest to be lulled asleep by his heartbeat, aware he wasn’t far behind you. 

[dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling]

Sorry for the wait, it's been a busy week!

Angel dust, Husk, Alastor, Charlie and Nifty x injured Reader

Angel dust

★ Oh he's a crying mess when he hears about what's happened. Nobody sees him for a few days because he locked himself in his room. He only comes out after you've waken up/ask to see him.

★ He makes jokes about how you can never strip on the pole anymore. Humor seems to be how he copes. Other than that he says close to you and is a bit more clingy than he was before.

Husk

★ Two words, silent rage. When he hears that you are in the hospital after having your legs mangled off you can feel the anger radiating off of him. It feels like there's a massive amount tension in the room and the smallest thing will set him off.

★ Him having a job where he just sits and checks people in/out is perfect because you don't need legs to "sit still and look pretty" (Alastors words, not his).

Alastor

★ First of all, whoever thought they could hurt you and get away with it has another thing coming, a very dangerous and very deadly demon is out for their blood. And trust me, he won't be merciful.

★ Secondly, he insists on giving you the best treatment that hell has. A surprising amount of skilled doctors have been sent to hell, apparently. He leaves a radio in your bedroom while you recover.

Charlie

★ After learning that you where hurt she goes into panic mode. Nobody can calm her down and nothing is going to stop her from seeing you.

★ She keeps her eye on you while you recover and brings you meals and things so you don't get bored. Things like food, water, books and videogames. If the hotel didn't have wheelchair accessible doors it shure does now!

Nifty

★She takes some time away from her work to take care of you, Charlie was more than willing to grant her some time off so she was able to help you learn to use a wheelchair.

★Like Charlie, she is going to be your personal nurse untill you feel better/recover. But unlike Charlie she also where's a WW2 nurse era outfit while doing so.

[sahisan]

Hiiiii!!! May I ask for a wanderer x gn reader wherein they are rivals suddenly turning into roommates?

This can be hc and/or a fanfic, whatever is comfortable for you.

★ summary: wanderer x gn!haravatat scholar!reader. nahida assigning you to work on a project, translating an ancient plate with old runes in inazuman language, and she happens to have a certain someone by her side who may be willing to help. (im so bad at summaries im sorry)

☆ cw: sfw. fluff. rivals (enemies) to friends (??? idk there's no romance pointed out (but you can say enemies to lovers if you see it in here)). and they were roommates. kinda. wanderer stealing your tea at night. open ending (cliffhanger?). 1000 words.

☾ a/n: the "wanderer stealing your tea at night" part in the fic was so random i genuinely see myself as a genius for hc'ing him that way ohmygod. thank you anon, i really enjoyed writing this one.₍⁠₍⁠ ⁠◝⁠(⁠　ﾟ⁠∀⁠ ﾟ⁠ ⁠)⁠◟⁠ ⁠⁾⁠⁾

"what?!" your voice echoed through the space of the sanctuary of surasthana as you stared at the small figure of the dendro archon in front of you with wide-open eyes.

this can't be happening.

"why am i being paired up with him? he's not even a scholar!" you protested.

but that's not even the worst.

"and the worst! why is he going to live with me in the time of our project?" you threw up your hands, pitying yourself and mentally preparing for what will happen.

"nahida, my dearest, spare my life, would you?" you begged the small archon, trying to convince the goddess to have mercy on the poor you.

nahida knew that you both couldn't stand each other - your constant rambling about how tha "hat guy" often can't keep his mouth shut, continuously speaking out loud his thoughts about you- no, not thoughs, they were insults of his own kind, and you often found yourself mumbling about how irritating he is in the empty rooms of the house of daena; she also listened to how wanderer complained about you - you, who dared to snatch his hat away while he accidentally fell asleep on one of many lectures in the akademiya. yet not only you took it away, you also had the courage to place it on your disgusting head, and walk with it on around for the time he was asleep!

"the runes that were found in those ruins are written in inazuman, [name]. and wanderer is... well-familiar with that language and the nation itself." the young goddess explained in her calm tone of voice, keeping away most of the details.

"but nahida, have mercy, there's no way we coul-"

your pleas were cut off with nahida's small frown and intense stare. you couldn't help but sigh, hopeless.

you thought that when wanderer will have his enter to your house, the building will be blasting with his mocking comments out of everywhere, that arguments and occasional disagreements in everything wouldn't have their end. yet, you were wrong. you and wanderer were ordinary discussing the project of translating the old inazuman runes, talking through about who will deal with this or that topic in it, or who will translate the meaning of the old plate with those runes.

you ofthen found yourself surprised at how he would try to keep down his banter when he saw how exhausted you were after those lectures in the akademiya, so he just shut himself up in case he happened to walk on you in that state, and instead resented how you don't take care of yourself, devoting so much time to all the unnecessary languages ​​and useless pieces of paper called books.

but, there was one more thing.

since wanderer has recently moved to your house, your tea began to disappear as if a cat was sneaking into your kitchen at night, brewing ten cups of tea at once. you already had your suspicions on who could it be, but you needed to figure it out yourself.

so, you waited for him to appear at the usual place you two are meeting every morning for fresh breakfast (for you - a full breakfast, for the puppet - a cup of the bitterest tea you have ever tried in your entire life) - kitchen. sitting in fron of each other while he was already drinking the second cup of tea this morning, and you had just finished with your dish, just sitting there and granting you both with silence.

you took a deep breath, trying not to laugh at your own idea of breaking the silence.

"wanderer, dear, would you please enlighten me on why my tea has been dissipating every night since you got here?" you asked in a fake bittersweet tone, clearly hiding a laugh that has been brewing in your throat.

as he proceeded to raise the cup to his lips, but stopped after your words. wanderer's eyes glimmered with suspense. was he really that obvious, he thought?

"are you implying that-"

"yes."

"no, i am not stealing your tea at night." wanderer scoffs with a scowl on his features. he needed to get the suspicion off himself. "it even sounds like a joke, do you even hear yourself?"

"so how would you explain the magical disappearing of my tea?" you mockingly raised your eyebrows, prepping your chin and cheek on you palm, your elbow on the table.

"that's none of my concern, [name]." he deadpanned, not even bothering to look at your side. ah, good old mean wanderer. how you missed that.

you sighed with a smile that clearly showed that you definitely knew something, and laid the suss off of him for now.

for now.

yet, you decided to check on him later that night, as you were oh so right in your suspicions. you just needed to cast light on his small, silly doings that he denied every now and then. and so, you sneaked into your kitchen at night to prove your point.

what you saw clearly amused you - you needed you hold a hand over your mouth to not laugh out loud in the middle of the night. this was too predictable.

wanderer was leaning against the kitchen counter with his front, with his back turned to you. he was facing the window, the moonlight illuminating on his porcelain skin and indigo hair as if he was an angel from heaven himself. your feauters softened upon seeing him glaring up at the moon in thoughts, yet your eyes wandered off of wanderer and to the three already empty cups of tea next to him on the counter.

"i knew it would be you." you whispered, not bothering to hide a smile, as you heard him snort shortly after.

"...tch. no peace in this house even at night." wanderer sighed, taking another sip from the fourth cup of tea. he turned his head slightly to the side, a small, genuine smile coating his lips. "how irritating."

[mercurysgarden]

welcome 🌿

kat/any nicknames | she/they | 19 | audhd | poly aroace | isfp | taurus | dutch. — nice to meet you!

use the tags below to navigate my blog and the things i post about!

feel free to ask to become mutuals or dm me anytime, i'm always happy to make a friend. i am also active on these blogs: @pandorlily (fandom), @katssongs, @bellienellie, @kittydeers and @deersatdawn (hellenic polytheism).

[thewhumpcaretaker]

⚜ 𝓑𝓮𝔂𝓸𝓷𝓭 𝓙𝓾𝓭𝓰𝓮𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽 - 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝐼𝐼𝐼: 𝒜𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓁 𝒶𝓉 𝐵𝓁𝓊𝑒 𝑀𝑜𝑜𝓃 𝑀𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓁 ⚜

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ ✧.*★ Thank you again to @evren-sadwrn for the beta read!

TW: John and Vincent bickering...and that's pretty much it, this one's kinda fluffy

Summary: John finds an out-of-the-way motel where he and Vincent can spend the night in hiding.

A dusty, sun-faded sign read “Blue Moon Motel” in yellow across a periwinkle moon. John almost missed it, and it was for that exact reason that he took a sharp turn just in time to swing into the mostly empty parking lot. It couldn’t be more inconspicuous, and the only thing that caught his eye at all was the flickering neon “Vacancy” sign, half obscured by branches. Perfect.

Even so, it would be a roll of the dice. A hitman could be anywhere, even behind the counter of the tiniest motel. He sat behind the wheel for a moment, gazing at the lit window of the lobby, gathering himself. Should he wake Vincent? No, best not. He was as likely to be another obstacle as a help. Feeling the reassuring weight of a pistol at his hip, he reluctantly left Vincent in the backseat and entered.

Luck was on his side, for the first time all evening. The sole employee, a 60-something in a shockingly pink puff-sleeved blouse, was fast asleep with her face in her crossword puzzle. She had a faded flower tattoo on her forearm, but it wasn’t anything he recognized as an underworld symbol. He cleared his throat, and when that failed, rang the bell. Her name was Marjorie. She did not, as he had feared, pull a gun on him the moment she saw his face. In fact, she booked him a room without asking awkward questions, even when he paid cash.

Nonetheless, he wished she would move a little faster. His ears were trained on the road outside, waiting for an engine in the distance, for a grim reaper going motel to motel, searching. He could already picture them checking the cars, peering down at Vincent and Dog, pulling a gun –

“Room 105. There’ll be a queen bed. Find me if the AC acts up. Breakfast’s 7 to 10. Sleep tight - you look like you need it, if you don’t mind my saying.”

“Thanks. Have a good night, ma’am.” He forced himself not to turn away too quickly, and not to run out the door.

But of course, the night was just as silent as before, and the car untouched. He exhaled in relief. God, this day had fried his nerves.

He opened the door to the backseat and lifted back the throw blanket to reveal an innocent-looking man. Positively angelic, in fact, with a button nose and uncommonly full lips, all dressed in bloodied white finery. He hurt to look at. Soft auburn locks swept back from his forehead, so smooth in the mercy of unconsciousness. In combination with blood loss, the moonlight washed his already pale cheeks even whiter, setting off high cheekbones and deep-set eyes for the overall effect of one in desperate need of saving from an imminent death. This face, which had ordered murders, which had mocked love itself, which had been spouting its worst venom at him five hours ago, was harming no one now. Just lying there, innocent, needing rest and protection.

To hell with it. John slid his arms under Vincent’s back and legs and lifted him…well, not like it was nothing - he was a huge, sprawling bulk of a man, taller than John, and it was a challenge to cradle his head properly without aggravating his chest. But John managed things as gracefully as he could, focusing on not dropping him and trying very hard not to focus on his own heart, which was going inexplicably haywire. Vincent smelled of expensive vanilla cologne even after hours of sweating and his head was lolling back against John’s shoulder in a way that sent thrills through him. No doubt he’d hate to see himself right now. Please don’t wake up until I can put you down, John thought as he struggled to turn the key with the hand that stuck out from under Vincent’s thighs.

“Qu'est-ce que tu crois faire, bordel? [What the fuck do you think you’re doing?]”

And just like that, the innocent cherub was gone. “Je te rabaisse dès que possible. [Putting you down as soon as I can.]” The door swung open and, still in the dark, John laid him onto the bed, minding his chest and head carefully even if the bastard didn’t deserve it. “You seemed…peaceful, so I just… Did I hurt you anywhere?”

“I don’t know. Probably not, I think I’m just sore from the drive. Let’s never speak of this again.”

“Great idea.” He stepped back, catching his breath, and switched on the bedside lamp. It revealed a dingy room with an armchair in one corner, a TV, the bed, and not much else. Despite the nonsmoking sign, it smelled of cigarettes. Dog explored the corners and stuck his head under the bedside table.

“Where are we?”

“Blue Moon Motel, just outside Allentown, PA. Not what you’re used to, I’d imagine,” John said. “But it’s rural. Better chance of not being found overnight.”

“Fair enough. You would know what’s best in these…situations.” Vincent stretched himself and began to stand. “I can walk, by the way.”

“Thought we were never speaking of that again.”

“Well, I’m about to go get a drink of water, and I’d rather not have to stab you for trying to get me to the sink.”

John was blushing. Why was he blushing? “Right.” He went to bring the bag from the car, and stood in the coolness for a few minutes, listening to the night birds. He had to get his head on straight. Whatever he was feeling towards the Marquis could not possibly be reciprocated. Friendship? Obviously impossible - Vincent couldn’t stand him. Attraction? As if. Vincent probably spent the night with models anytime he wanted. Empathy? He’d probably never felt that in his life and made it very clear that he didn’t desire it from others. Any attempt to connect with him on an emotional level would at best lead to embarrassment, and would at worst further traumatize him.

By the time John returned, he was already in bed again, laying in the center with both pillows stacked under his head. “The bed is mine, by the way. Your loss that you didn’t get a room for two.”

“That would have been suspicious. I’m fine with the chair anyway. Are you going to sleep?” He moved towards the light switch.

“No. How am I supposed to sleep when this ordeal is still completely unresolved?”

“Same way you did in the car?”

“That was when I hadn’t slept in two days thanks to the stress of the tribunal, and then the flight to the states. Now I’m wound up again.” He sighed. “I still can’t believe this is happening. After I’ve proven myself a formidable enemy, determined to bring the High Table greater glory than it has ever seen, they throw all of that away. Ridiculous.”

With this, John could agree. “They have no loyalty to you or to anyone.”

“Loyalty to the powerless is foolishness. But disloyalty to the powerful…that’s also foolishness.” It rolled off his tongue easily.

“Is that a quote?”

“Oui. I will show them my power and their idiocy will be corrected.”

John just shook his head and leaned back against the wall. “I can’t say I see the point in it.”

“That surprises me. You’ve had your share of vengeful murder sprees.”

“Not for power, or loyalty. Just to…well, just because I couldn’t not.” He struggled to organize his thoughts for a moment. “Sometimes you care about something and there’s no other way to express it. Maybe because the thing you love…or the person…is out of reach. Already gone. So all you can do is wreck the thing that took them.”

The Marquis tsked. “This is what happens when you let love run away with you. It breeds a total loss of control.” He took a ring from his left hand, and held it up to the lamp. The High Table sigil shone crisply on it even in the dim, yellowy light. “Do you know why I wear this on my ring finger, even though I’m not married?”

“No.”

“It keeps courtesans from getting ideas. A man of my station cannot afford distractions or liabilities, much less those who will seek the advantages of his title through the bedroom. I alone pursue what matters to me, I alone manage my affairs, I alone win honor for the name of Gramont.”

“There was a lot of ‘alone’ in that sentence.”

A livid glare twitched the corners of his mouth. “How astute. Well, I happen to enjoy being alone with myself, because the company is good. Perhaps you wouldn’t know what that’s like. Goodness knows it’s a headache to be stuck with you.“

Damn it, thought John, I’ve already done it again. “I’m not trying to make this hell for you, believe it or not.”

“Then be quiet. I need to think. They are coming for me. If I was in their position, I would never stop.” Vincent took a deep breath, rubbing his temples. “I need a loophole, an angle...and all the while, anyone could come through the door...”

You need to sleep, not think, John wanted to say. No, stop it. Let the man do what he wants. Leave him alone. But the look of frayed nerves on Vincent’s face was clawing him from the inside out.

With Herculean restraint, “Fine.” There was only one thing he could do now to help Vincent. Only one thing he was good for. He turned the armchair towards the door, took a gun in hand, and waited for something to kill.

“What are you doing now?”

“What I promised to do. Protecting you. Think. Sleep. Do what you need to do. If anyone comes through that door, they’re dead.”

Thus, his vigil began. Dog settled into his lap and a strange, trancelike bliss stole over him. He was in no danger of falling asleep. Somehow, with the knowledge that Vincent was safe behind him, there was something entertaining even about staring at a closed door. The faint sounds of the wind in the trees outside mixed with Vincent’s breathing, and the occasional rustle of pillows or dramatic sigh which gave him some fragment of information about the Marquis’ position and mood. Charged with that information, the whole room buzzed vividly around him.

At some point, Vincent took the motel’s branded notepad and pencil from the beside table and started writing plans which were, one by one, tossed past John into the wastepaper basket on the other side of the room. This continued for a while before there was stillness again.

It was 3:30 AM before he roused himself enough to look at the clock. When he did, it was only because Dog jumped down from his lap. “Where you going?”

He jumped onto the bed where Vincent lay with an arm across his face, the notepad tossed aside. John glanced over at them apprehensively, keen on ensuring that they played nice. The Marquis muttered something under his breath in irritation as Dog sniffed out the blood on his chest. But Dog was not to be deterred. He licked at Vincent’s chin with concern until he relented and scratched behind his ears, saying softly, “Bon chien. Vous êtes fidèle, n'est-ce pas? Reste ici, à côté de moi. [Good dog. You're loyal, aren't you? Stay here, next to me.]”

The next time he looked, it was 4:30. Vincent was asleep, with Dog curled up against the crook of his neck, their heads resting together. A miracle: the angel had taken over Vincent’s body again.

John stood to turn off the light, and caught a glimpse of the notepad on the bed. It lay amongst torn off pages full of scribbled legalese and lines drawn from one name to another, mapping out a network of debts. But the most recent page, not yet torn off, was different from the rest. It was a drawing. And it was damn good.

There was a portrait of John scowling, from memory.  And next to it, on the same page, was a study of his hand gripping the gun as it dangled over the arm of the chair, and dog peeking around the chair to look at Vincent. It was casually done, and it was titled – or perhaps more accurately, it was scribbled upon, next to him and next to Dog. His portrait was titled, “le gros chien de garde stupide [the big, stupid guard dog]”, and Dog’s was titled, “le petit chien de garde intelligent [the little, clever guard dog]”. John stared at it for a long time, switched off the light, and then returned to his post, now in even less danger of sleeping. He gazed into the darkness, trying not to smile, seeing only that drawing until the sun rose.

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[livvywritesworld]

livvywritesworld

livvy, 20, they/she, writer

weird girl literary fiction, literary horror, literary sff, & speculative fiction

subgenres: folk horror & light sci-fi

religious imagery, eldritch horror, mean weird lesbians, complex mother/daughter relationships, body horror, character studies, explorations of the body (chronic illness & queerness), and being ukrainian diaspora in the united states

longform wips, short fiction, & poetry

this page supports palestine and believes in a free, autonomous palestine

horror/film/hist/anth catch-all account: @deciduousangel please feel free to follow

ᯓ★ i’ve been writing and revising a literary horror book called the lambs, screaming for a couple years now. there’s a lot of religious imagery, body horror, vague supernatural/eldritch fuckery, and a complex homoerotic friendship between two despicable, grieving girls casey and bethan.

ᯓ★ i have been intermittently writing and planning out two full-length novels based on unpublished short stories of mine. the first is a modular novel following multiple people’s lives as they are impacted by an alien invasion except the aliens aren’t here to invade, they’re here to learn. the second is another literary speculative fiction following two main characters: a young neanderthal woman that has been jurassic park’d by a lab in northern california (this is a real thing scientists are trying to do btw), and one of the female anthropologists that contributed to this experiment. i refer to this project as unironically planet of the apes for phoebe bridgers enjoyers.

ᯓ★ i am a history and anthropology student with a minor in creative writing, and i am almost always at the mercy of a research paper deadline or two. my interests are medical history in ciudad de mexico, indigenous andean gender systems, historical epidemiology, and paleopathology (my one true love). i firmly believe in decolonizing anthropology and making academic anthropological writing more accessible.

ᯓ★ besides writing, i love horror, david cronenberg movies, joni mitchell, the x files, the locked tomb, baldur’s gate 3, any media with substantial body horror, playing video games, and reading when i get the chance. my favorite movies include: the fly, longlegs, humanist vampire seeking consenso ring suicidal person, sucker punch, little miss sunshine, dinner in america, and a girl walks home alone at night. my favorite book of all time is patrícia melo’s the simple art of killing a woman. i am also a massive fan of julia armfield, carmen maria machado, and steven graham jones.

ᯓ★ i am a published writer with multiple poems and some short stories floating around the online space, look out for any link postings of recently published work. i am also a staff writer for a very cool zine, and am an experienced and established writer.

ᯓ★ the standard dni applies. dni if you are under 17.

ᯓ★ i stand firmly with palestine 🇵🇸

links to my wips will go here:

[gcantread]

August 2024 reads

[loved liked ok nope dnf bookclub*]

My Lady Jane • The Wild Robot • Our Hideous Progeny • The Hero and the Crown • The Screwtape Letters • The Seventh Veil of Salome • Our Shouts Echo • Villette • The Lies of Alma Blackwell • The Mercy of Gods • Mistress of Lies • Lady Macbeth • Go to Hell • Lucy Undying

I read 14 books in August! (Well, ok, I'm on track to finish the last two today.) It was a busy reading month for me due to tons of ARCs and new releases (8/14 of this list!), which resulted in an "all my library holds are ready at once ougsfshfh" situation. I also once again checked out a few books in order to see if they're worth reading in future years of @bellasbookclub.

My Lady Jane ★★★☆☆ - A very silly time that often reads more like upper-middle-grade than YA. A skip for TV show fans, but the tween furry community should be overjoyed.

The Wild Robot ★★★★★ - An adorable (and yet surprisingly death-y) kids' book that (🤞) should make a fantastic movie. The illustrations alone bump this one up a few stars.

Our Hideous Progeny ★★★★☆ - The last (?) of my BBC Summer Reading Challenge 2024 picks! Has a slow start but man, if you give me an undead abomination plesiosaur who is also a cute little guy, I am seated. Could have been a five star read if it were just a lil gayer and more Creature-forward!

The Hero and the Crown ★★★☆☆ - Read this one to screen it for @bellasbookclub, so I shan't say any details (yet.)

The Screwtape Letters ★★★☆☆ - Another BBC screening but nope nah I'm not gonna make us read The Christianity Book. Did not make me repent of my godless Jezebel ways even a little bit, but gets three stars because it's nevertheless a fascinating glimpse of C.S. Lewis as a person. Next time I'll stick to The Good Place though.

The Seventh Veil of Salome ★★★★1/2 - Speaking of godless Jezebels: Silvia Moreno-Garcia and I have the same biblical blorbo!! I haven't loved any of Moreno-Garcia's work since Mexican Gothic, but finally, this one was another slam dunk for me! As a Salome (1893) enjoyer and understander I'm so glad SMG is one of us. The main (Hollywood Golden Age) parts were also deftly rendered—this was the first truly well-executed Karen Villain I've encountered.

Our Shouts Echo ★★★★☆ - A really sweet and enjoyable contemporary YA coming-of-age + romance that somehow pulled off its nuanced optimism without being preachy or precious. Dare I say...actual hopepunk? An ARC from ALA Annual.

Villette ★★★☆☆ - Another book club screening. [Helga voice] I hated this book but I loved this book but I hated this book but I loved this book. Dammit, it's just so memeable. See you in hell 2025 probably

The Lies of Alma Blackwell ★★★1/2☆ - A decent YA ghost story with immaculate creepy, witchy, & haunted house vibes and some fun tropey romance (sure, why not?) Another ARC.

The Mercy of Gods ★★★★☆ - Ensemble-driven alien invasion story in which a team of wet babygirl science geeks must prove their worth to their new Giant Fucked Up Bug overlords and also one of them is a parasitic hivemind but we don't know which. Unsinkable concept but the writing makes it even better. One for the grown up Animorphs kids (Yes I know I rated it less than Wild Robot, but Wild Robot is a 5-star quality kids' book, while Mercy of Gods is an imperfect but riveting adult novel that I connected with on a more personal level.)

Mistress of Lies ★★★☆☆ - 2nd-to-last in my self-imposed (Review-) Bombed Books Week Challenge. A generous rounding up to three stars because I like the concept and it had a strong start before...plateauing for 200 pages. (Where were the titular LIES?) Very little actually happened and yet my laconic review is somehow "do less."

Lady Macbeth ★★★★☆ - More of an original story with some names in common than a retelling (Macbeth fans be forewarned. Y'all remember the dragon? You know, the dragon that's in Macbeth?) I tired of how repetitive the assault-as-motif became, but there were some very cool plot choices and Ava Reid's prose is gorgeous as ever. Kind of Green Knight vibes!

Go to Hell ★★★1/2☆ - Another ARC, this one a nonfiction travel guide to IRL destinations that are either associated with Hell/underworld mythology or just hellish places in general. Taught me a lot more folklore and history than your average travel guide!

Lucy Undying ★☆☆☆☆ - Hilarious of me to read two retellings in a row. Unlike Macbeth, I feel deep personal affection for Dracula, which meant this book wold have made me silver_linings_playbook.gif it out the window if I hadn't been reading on my phone. If I had never read Dracula, I miiiight have liked this? (jk I finished it and can now definitively say I would not have.) The prose was decent and I liked Lucy's modern-day love interest, Iris, but this author clearly graduated from the "lesbians must hate and deride all men all the time and be proven right in this view when every single man tries to harm them" school of writing sapphic characters, and since the book was basically encouraging me to paranoid-read, it set off both my "clumsy writing" and "...is this a t3rf?" alarms. tl;dr Mina and Jonathan and Van Helsing and Seward and Arthur and Quincey and Berserker the wolf and even Mr. Swales (slandering Mr. Swales?? Is nothing sacred??) deserved SO much better. Now I'll have to reread Dracula to cleanse myself

DNFs: None! Although Lucy Undying certainly tried my patience.

August superlatives

Next up:

September is another new release-filled month! I'm on track to finish my Bombed Books Week Challenge with The Empire Wars by Akana Phenix and then the unreleased Crown of Starlight itself, so I can satisfy my intellectual curiosity of how it compares to the books its author tried to sabotage. (Which attempted sabotage was an abhorrent action I 100% condemn. Toss aside those large rocks, I've been supporting the targeted authors at my local bookstore and library.)

In less dramatic goals, I've got an ARC of Ruin Road by Lamar Giles I'm eager to check out, and I can't wait for Long Live Evil to be ready at the library. We've also got our first official Bella's Book Club read of Season 3, which should be fun (hint: it's an Austen!)

previous months:

july

[insurrection-if]

Stat Changes

For anyone interested in some behind-the-scenes mechanics and stat variables, here's an overly wordy peek into that below the cut.

Please don't consider this a substantial status update or anything like that ゞ ◎Д◎ ヾ; I don't want anyone to be disappointed by what I talk about below if they read ahead with that expectation. This is just talk about two variable mechanics I wished to disclose since one is an update to a personality stat on the Mechanics page and the other is something I am a little worried certain readers might not like.

With that said . . .

(；´∀｀) I will need to update the "Mechanics" page soon, but I have decided to change one of the personality stats for Mockingbird.

Protective vs. Independent has been changed to Cooperative vs. Independent. This stat will now measure Mockingbird's willingness and comfort towards working alongside others and accepting their help: where they stand between the edges of a lone wolf or team player. ＼（★´−｀）人（´▽｀★）／

A shy Mockingbird can have a high cooperative stat, which would translate into them being someone who isn't overly fond of social environments but generally wishes to be proactive in assisting and accepting the assistance of those around them. A social Mockingbird with a high independence would be someone who is comfortable meeting and socializing with a vast array of people but is resistant towards having to rely on another person in situations dire or mundane.

The Protective stat has become an independent variable. It is now a trait called protective_general which will note whether Mockingbird is indiscriminately protective of anyone placed in their care. A Mockingbird with this stat set as true will generally care for the defense and protection of everyone, placing no less value on the life of a random civilian than they would their own teammate. Cruel Mockingbirds with this stat will angle this protectiveness as them not crossing the line into mindless / needless violence or death (while still accepting brutal or aggressive tactics against whatever they oppose), and merciful Mockingbirds will have this treated as an extension of their compassionate nature.

This comes with a sub-stat (which is the term I am using for now since I am not sure if there is a more official one for this sort of stat out there). Here's a vague look at it below:

This stat has only been extended to potential love interests thus far since they will be available for the closest relationships - in either a romantic or platonic sense - in the first book. If Mockingbird is not generally protective of everyone (or is already generally protective of everyone), it would make little(?) sense for them to be specifically and distinctly protective towards the likes of Bacara, Boar, Kalyna, Gabriel, or Uriel who are far less available emotionally, objectively, or physically to Mockingbird. (Adding Mishka at this time might be a little much to add at this point too, but there are justifications to be found from a pragmatic, cautionary, or ideological standpoint.) Maybe Yadon and Nasrin should be added to this sub_stat mechanic as well, but that can be amended at a later time. This is, at present, more so for my own record and disclosure to anyone interested.

Essentially, this sub_stat marks whether Mockingbird is particularly protective over (a) specific individual(s). This can occur in purely platonic, or even conflicted, relationships as well for the sake of roleplay. If Mockingbird is generally protective, then activating a protective sub-stat for a specific character just means that their instinct to keep them safe has a more personal and heavy weight on their shoulders compared to when they feel this way for others. There might be some flavor dialogue if Mockingbird is only distinctly protective of their romantic interest(s), is protective of everyone but their romantic interest(s), is not generally protective at all yet is specifically protective towards all of the individual HAWKS, etc. and so forth. This would be much farther down the road, however, since those around them will need time to take notice of whatever trend Mockingbird might have that's worth a comment - it's all nebulous right now, but at least it's there for me to pull out and implement whenever I find a nice chance to call attention to it.

The trigger points for this stat towards individuals might vary character to character and will be available for activation at multiple stages of the narrative (shortly after a first encounter, at end of the first book, after a time skip, etc.).

In other words, I do not want players to feel pressured into being protective of someone as soon as possible if it makes more sense for their character to develop this sentiment at a later point in the story. If Mockingbird is not protective of a character shortly after first meeting them then there will still be multiple opportunities in the future to activate this stat / sentiment at a later time.

I figured I should mention all this now in case anyone had a notable issue with this change. There is another mechanic I have tenuously added and hoped to gather some feedback on, but I am concerned that such feedback would be a little hard to give when readers have yet to greatly familiarize themselves with their guardians.

For now, while I am referencing Mockingbird's parental figures, I will more so explicitly state that their relationship with Mockingbird will not be measured by a point or percentage system (as I had initially planned so long ago). Since their physical presence is largely scarce after the first chapter (for a long span of, uh, "temporarily unavailable") I hope to avoid players being overly careful with appeasing, agreeing, and never challenging or being upset with their guardians in order to keep a good relationship with them beyond the first chapter (and the vice versa of that for a poor relationship) in a way that causes heavy, immersion-breaking relationship management.

Instead, the reader / player (whichever term one prefers, haha!) will be given a choice for the type of relationship they would like to have with each of their guardians. Those options are (with placeholder + general descriptions):

Hostile - The relationship is in tatters, hanging by a worn and fraying thread that should have been severed long ago.

Distant - The relationship had become cold, a wedge keeping them afar. You retreat from their care, and do not associate with them any more than is necessary.

Neutral - You are indifferent to them, not revering or condemning their guardianship in any particular manner. The relationship is fine, and rarely does it fluctuate into anything much better or worse than this.

Content - The relationship is satisfactory, one that remains largely civil and warm. You love your guardian, but do not cherish your bond to the point of immense attachment.

Close - The relationship is one full of love and care, a close-knit bond that will forever keep your Guardian secured in your heart.

Grateful, but Tense - You appreciate your Guardian and all they have sacrificed for your sake, but it is difficult to force a sense of closeness with them. You wish you could love them more, accept them more, and yet . . . you cannot shake the discomfort you have towards their memory, actions, and affection.

Please me know if these options seem subpar or limiting!

These are all Mockingbird's sentiments towards their guardian. Each parental figure in their life loves them unconditionally, and always will, but that doesn't mean Mockingbird can treat them with animosity or coldness without consequence. Uncle Fletcher will gripe and raise his voice towards a hostile Mockingbird, their stepmother will cry at the (in her eyes) harsh coldness of a distant Mockingbird, and their father will hide his pain behind stiff smiles around a Mockingbird who is grateful towards but tense around him.

Mockingbird can later re-evaluate their feelings towards their guardians before reuniting with them at some point post-induction into the HAWKS. Shift from Close to Distant, from Hostile to Grateful and Tense, and so on. That reunion, however, is a far distant future for them.

( ᐛ )و That concludes my horribly composed ramble on two statistics.

My plan for a demo is to, perhaps, finish key early childhood scenes for Mockingbird and post a short "demo sample" with little fanfare or announcement so a small pool of players can assist me with some feedback on the opening of the game (which I continuously toil over as being considerably decent or terribly sloppy). Feedback on elements such as the depiction and their perception of the guardians, readability, choice amount and variance, stat descriptions and implementation, and so forth. Then, once I have concluded Chapter 0 (Mockingbird Pre-Hawks), I'll have that be a more advertised demo on the main post of this blog but, since the ROs will have a sparse presence up to that point, I'll hold off on anything in the forums until Chapter 1 has been substantially written.

In other news, I feel like I'm finally reaching the other side of a hill. I have managed to settle things at work to a more tolerable level of stress. For now, at least, since one of my co-workers keeps ominously warning that the worst has yet to come. (´͈ ⌓ `͈ )

My eldest dog (old man Charlie) has also been undergoing a serious health crisis since last Thursday. Thankfully, he's finally back home and has shown notable recovery! ✧⁺⸜(●′▾‵●)⸝⁺✧ The next two or so weeks are critical for him, but (according to the vet) the roughest patch is over. I've been crying my eyes out over him so much, and to see his health returning slowly but surely has been such a relief! It's been a stressful, and expensive, struggle but seeing some of his pep come back to his step has been a such a curative to the bruise this whole ordeal has left on my heart . . . and wallet, haha! (；´∀｀)

There's other stuff happening around me that are a cause for distress, but it's all beyond my control. So, I'm trying to stay positive while hoping to convert my anxious energy into more productivity!

Sorry for the pointlessness of this post overall. (´ﾟ 艸ﾟ)∴ I just felt like I needed to clarify these stat changes and ramble into the void of the internet about everything above.

For anyone who has made it this far, thank you for your time and patience throughout this long spiel! (●・ω・) I wish you all the best, and hope nothing shared above was too upsetting or disappointing!

Thank you! ヾ(＾-＾) ノ

[bigdreamsandwildthings]

Review: Hell Bent (Leigh Bardugo, Ninth House #2)

Rating: ★★★★.5/5

"That was the truth of magic - blood and guts and semen and spit, organs kept in jars, maps for hunting humans, the skulls of unborn infants. The problem wasn't books and fairy tales, just that they told half the story, offering up the illusion of a world where only the villains paid in blood, the ogre stepmothers, the wicked stepsisters, where magic was just and without sacrifice." This was killer. So much more enjoyable than book one for me. Alex Stern will go to hell for the people she cares about - literally, in the case of Daniel Arlington, who has been trapped there for months. Alex is conducting Lethe business and managing her studies, and at the same time, concocting a plan: find a gate, descend into Hell, and rescue her mentor. But nothing comes easy for Alex, and that plan may go disastrously wrong in ways she couldn't have predicted. I found that Ninth House read like a very adult-feeling book, but I think, at the time, that I just wasn't into that tone. This one is written similarly, but I found myself immediately drawn into it without any real effort on my part; it didn't feel so hard to immerse myself in the world. I think this is a me maturing in my reading tastes thing, rather than a Ninth House itself thing. I really liked Alex here, in a way I didn't in book one. She's so fierce and flawed, and I really loved being in her head. The supporting cast is excellent again - I love Mercy and want the best for her always - and I love how we got some backstories woven into the action. And the action itself is pretty non-stop from the start. The pacing here is on point, with things happening left and right but still with time thrown in there for a teeny bit of normalcy for Alex as a college student. A teensy, tiny bit. There are demons and shit which take precedence. But still. There were a few points where the writing lost me a bit, and that's why I take a half star off. But overall, I really, really enjoyed this one, and I'm very happy about it.