#read byr

[february-academia]

29.01.2024

Went to this cafe on Saturday. Everything was nice. But of all the books that I could've taken why I took this one is still a mystery.

[gumiluver]

TWO PRETTY BEST FRIENDS! ~ JUJUTSU KAISEN

synopsis: what happens when two pretty best friends get you in their grasp?

cover pic credit: k1tty_4ndy on pinterest |border credit: @/cafekitsune

lovers <3: gojo satoru x afab!reader x geto suguru

byr/byi: the content in this fic is not suitable for individuals under the age of 18, minors please do not interact (you will be blocked!)

cw: nsfw, pwp, fingering, oral (f. receiving), manhandling, threesome (mfm), dirty talk (suguru’s a slut with his words), squirting, pet names

an: hope y’all enjoy! I’m considering making this a series with different jjk!best friend pairings!…lmk if you guys would be interested in smthn like that <3

“Ohh, do that again—she likes that,” Suguru groans, enchanted by the way your pretty eyes cross in a haze of lust-filled bliss. He’s got you in between his legs, a fistful of your hair in his grasp, making you angle your head up towards him so he can gaze upon your innocent face and watch it slowly morph into the fucked out cumslut he knows his good girl is.

“Hah, ‘course she does,” Gojo snickers, reveling at how your sweet pussy drips oh so deliciously for him.

“It’s ‘cause of me isn’t it, princess? You like when your ‘toru touches you right…” he trails off, creating an even deeper ache in your already pulsing cunt. He slowly weaves his index and middle finger through your folds to find your dripping core and finishes off his remark with a thrust of his fingers,”…here.”

“Ngghhh—fuuuck!!” you cry, overtaken by the intrusion of Satoru’s fingers that were, yet again, making their way into your gummy walls. His fingers move with purpose and certainty, hooking them toward your plush womb with the sole intention of abusing that spongy spot that makes you weep for him.

You felt like you were suffocating. Geto’s firm grip on your hair and neck leaves you squirming in his hold, but he’s quick to put you back in your place, “be good for us sweetheart, I’d hate to have to punish you so soon,” he chides, secretly hoping that you’d start to lose your rationality and step out of line. The shiver that rides along your spine doesn’t go unnoticed by Suguru, and he takes pride in knowing how his words sway you towards submission.

It seems like Satoru was able to read his best friend's intentions and wanted nothing more than to aid him in your descent, noting how Suguru’s clenched jaw and bulging arm veins hold him hostage from his true desires. He could see the sheer restraint that his best friend was holding onto, and Gojo would be lying if he said he wasn’t holding himself back as well.

Because fuck—look at ya.

Your head was thrown back, sheer ecstasy written on your face as Satoru quickened his pace, effectively fingering you into an early orgasm that had you squirting all over the two. The moans and cries you let out have both men grunting like animals, humping up into the air to gain some sort of friction on their sensitive cocks. Your hips sway in tandem with Satoru’s fingers, making both men become hypnotized by the very essence of your being. Both men drooling like fucking dogs, waiting to sink their teeth into you, waiting for your beck n’ call. The glistening sheen that radiates from your body resembles an innocent-like aura, just begging to be corrupted—and corrupt they shall.

Satoru’s already conjured up his own sick and twisted plans, wanting to get you an all fours to fuck you from behind while watching his pretty best friend fuck his lover's mouth.

And of course, Suguru had his own salacious desires, aching to see you split on top of his dick as he watches his pretty best friend jerk off at the sight of him fucking you.

And you? Well, you’d be happy if either of them would hurry up and fuck you already—the endless teasing starting to weave between the lines of pleasure and pain. Satoru continues to overstimulate your poor cunt and Suguru’s grip on you makes you yearn for something harder—something rougher.

Satoru’s ability of forethought seemed to have played in your favor as well, seeing as he can’t help but gaze at your sweet cunt that’s just begging to be filled. You can see his cock strain against his boxer briefs, an occasional twitch or two catching your attention and making you drool—wanting to taste his heavy tip.

Your gaze is hyper-fixated on Satoru’s cock now, your body moving forward—like a magnet being drawn to its force. But before you could even reach him, you feel yourself get pulled back into Suguru’s chest, “Ah—ah—ah, where do you think you’re going, pretty girl? Did you forget about me?”

You look up towards Suguru again, puppy dog eyes on full display to convey your innocence, “n-no!! I’d never forget you Sugu~” you cry, reaching up to place a warm hand on his cheek. You look over to Satoru who’s watching the two of you intently and beckon him over, wanting to please both your lovers equally, “Just wanna feel you—both of you.”

And who were they to deny their precious baby? The one and only person that could make them drop to their knees and beg for just a simple taste of you. The single most important person in the world to them. And most importantly, the only person that they are willing to share and love, together.

“Mmmm—fuckin’ love hearin’ you cry for us, such a desperate little thing. Isn’t that right, Satoru?” Suguru says, a cocky smirk adorning his face as he sees your blush darken over your cheeks. He squeezes your cheeks together with one hand, loving the way your plump limps perk together for him to kiss and suck on.

“Mhm~, poor baby’s just drippin’ for us,” Satoru responds, lowering his head down towards your cunt. Before you can protest, before you can even beg for their cocks, Suguru covers your mouth and pins your body on top of his. His forearm holding you down as Satoru spreads your thighs open again but this time, to suckle at your pink bud, and the whimper that you let out is like fucking music to their ears.

“I know you want our cocks sweetheart, but we gotta prep you more. Just relax, let us make you feel good,” Suguru charms, lulling you into a state of naivety to get you to blindly trust them. With the multiple orgasms that Satoru has been pulling from you coupled with Suguru’s debauched speech, you were more than ready to take both of them at this point.

But this? This was pure greed, from both men.

Suguru, wanting to see just how much you can handle before you’re a fucked out crying mess, begging to be stuffed with their cocks. And Satoru, reveling in your taste and secretly hoping to get you to squirt on his face.

Both men had their filthy little plans of watching you come undone, and both were intrigued by what the other’s plans were to get you to come undone.

And you? Well, all you could do was take it. Take the pleasurable torment. Take what they give you and then some.

After all, who knows what these two pretty best friends have in store for you in the long run?

an: what did you guys think?? I love hearing your feedback and what you enjoyed!! Should I make this a series? <33

As always, likes, comments, follows, reblogs, and any other form of interaction is greatly appreciated <3 #supportcreators

[shoota4ning]

જ⁀➴. BEWITCHED ✶

𐙚 synopsis. while running away from her ex-boyfriend, yn kisses a stranger, effectively ruining his date and stealing his first kiss.

𐙚 pairings. kai x grocery employee!reader

𐙚 feat. txt members, seunghan, chenle, heeseung, chaehyun, haewon, sakura, shownu.

𐙚 genre. smau, crack, fluff, non-idol au

𐙚 status. ongoing !

𐙚 date. 7/1/24 — tbd

𐙚 byr. definitely cursing, bullying ( lovingly ), probably kys jokes, maybe mentions of drug usage ( not reader )... umm maybe don’t read if your under 14... also don’t let the banner fool you this is a very unserious smau

യ ⋆ you’re not even gone,

i already miss you ୧ ‧₊˚

!★☆ ──── profiles

# free seunghan | hiroshi haters

!☆★ ──── chapters

⭑ one .ᐟ park seojoon fans RISE !!!

⭑ two .ᐟ beomgyu brainrot language

⭑ three .ᐟ heeseung’s weed = gay thoughts

⭑ four .ᐟ 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴hyun

⭑ five .ᐟ saiki yn

⭑ six .ᐟ the downfall of choi yeonjun

⭑ seven .ᐟ swagatron more like catatron

⭑ eight .ᐟ lip virginity stealer meets blonde

𐙚 taglist. send an ask !

@kyanmeai @whippedforbeomgyu @kaisdefender @s0urcherry @dudekiss3r @miyawwn @nshmurarki

[kenyuluvme]

chronic fuck-me eyes.

-> byr!! reader has hair that can be tucked behind her ears + she wears a skirt. nothing spicy happens, just exploring the idea of higuruma having fuck-me eyes/eye-fucking you lol. might make another part with actual smut let's see.

he wasn't aware of it. higuruma was barely attentive to anything aside from work-related affairs, so it wasn't hard to imagine that he was in fact incognizant of one of his most outstanding character, or rather physical, traits: his "fuck-me" eyes.

the same eyes that were indiscreetly ogling you from across the office you shared with him and shimizu.

you concentrated hard on not physically shrinking under his gaze (you already did mentally), but that was hardly feasible, what with the way in which he's been staring at you for the last few minutes. his large orbs that you happened to be fond of, half-lidded yet alarmingly keen, pored over every single part of you they could reach as if you were being undressed by him; and despite his mouth being covered by his balled up fist, you could swear you caught sight of him chewing on his bottom lip twice or thrice.

the long lashes that decorated his eyes fluttered slowly every now and then, adding on to the suffocatingly erotic aura that oozed out of him. the only thing that kept you somewhat distracted from his blatant eye-fucking was the clicking of your keyboard, which was the reason why you were pressing the keys with more vigour than the average person would.

you had to admit, you were doing a terrible job at not crumbling.

you lost count of the number of times you've momentarily let go of the keyboard to tuck a stray lock or two behind your ears, or the number of times you readjusted your skirt to see if that would make him look away, yet you'd be lying if you said the idea of your handsome boss shamelessly checking you out wasn't stroking your ego in ways unknown to man.

this was far from being the first time that higuruma has made you the target of his chronic fuck-me eyes. ever since your arrival in the firm, he's been eyeing you in this exact manner; a half-lidded, overtly sexual and intense stare. first time it happened was during your second week in the firm and you were trying to figure out the bizarrely vintage espresso machine they used, when, from your peripheral vision, you saw him leaning with his back against a window, sipping his bitter drink and plainly gazing at you through his lashes.

your lips had fell and you had awkwardly let out a "uhhh" before he moved from his spot, approaching you with a barely noticeable grin and a cool demeanour. "need help, new girl?," he said, his voice husky and low, and that combined with the label he gave you was more than enough to have you widen your eyes in slight frenzy.

ever since that fateful meeting, you've become more and more conscious of his habit of following you with his gaze and it was almost as if he liked to do it when you were alone in the same place as him.

you raised your eyes to read the time. 36 minutes left then you could clock out and scream into your pillow. yet, you didn't want to let him go without doing something in return, or at least showing him that you weren't all that unaware of what he's been doing.

not removing your eyes from your computer screen, you gently but firmly killed the silence, "is something the matter, higuruma? you've been staring at me for quite a few minutes now."

after finishing your words, you sharply turned your head to meet his gaze, and you were frankly taken aback by how he took what you said. he was no longer ogling you salaciously, and in the stead of that, he seemed...flustered?

"oh, my apologies, i was just lost in my thoughts. not professional for an attorney, huh?," he tried to humour you a bit to cover up his embarrassment. he then proceeded to grab some random papers and run his eyes over those instead.

you couldn't help your jaw dropping a bit. was he actually oblivious to what he's been doing for god knows how many months now? was he genuinely not aware of the gaze that was nothing short of an invitation for you to walk over and jump his bones?

these questions bounced in your head for the remaining minutes before you hurriedly packed your papers and items then left the office with an awkwardly nervous "goodbye".

he blinked, confused at your sudden reaction.

nevertheless, higuruma considered this another win in his book, as he recalled how cute you looked trying to remain calm, and he began to ponder the other ways in which he could make you lose your cool, but he knew that you weren't ready for that yet.

higuruma was, in fact, aware of his fuck-me eyes.

-> hmmm, in my head, this was wayyyyy less story-like and more about his whore eyes and what he thinks about but it turned into a drabble ig. lemme know if a part 2 with actual sex or something that's close to it sounds nice. byeee :)

[ash-and-books]

Rating: 5/5

Book Blurb:

In this sweet sapphic romance about two foodies in love, Vivi meets Lan while studying abroad in Vietnam and they spend the semester unraveling their families' histories—and eating all the street food in Sài Gòn. In Sài Gòn, Lan is always trying to be the perfect daughter, dependable and willing to care for her widowed mother and their bánh mì stall. Her secret passion, however, is A Bánh Mì for Two, the food blog she started with her father, but has stopped updating since his passing.

Meanwhile, Vietnamese American Vivi Huynh, has never been to Việt Nam. Her parents rarely even talk about the homeland that clearly haunts them. So Vivi secretly goes to Vietnam for a study abroad program her freshman year of college. She’s determined to figure out why her parents left, and to try everything she’s seen on her favorite food blog, A Bánh Mì for Two.

When Vivi and Lan meet in Sài Gòn, they strike a deal. Lan will show Vivi around the city, helping her piece together her mother’s story through crumbling photographs and old memories. Vivi will help Lan start writing again so she can enter a food blogging contest. And slowly, as they explore the city and their pasts, Vivi and Lan fall in love.

Review:

Lan is a famous food blogger in Vietnam but has stopped writing after her father's passing, Vivi is a Vietnamese American girl who is a huge fan of Lan's blog and dreams about discovering the Vietnam her mother refuses to talk about, the two coincidentally meet and a sweet romance begins. Lan is the perfect daughter, always willing to help her mother and take care of the family food stall. She is also a popular food blogger who writes about Vietnam. She has stopped posting ever since her father's passing and is dealing with the grief of losing her father while trying to keep her family afloat. Vivi is a Vietnamese American who has never been to Vietnam and her parents refuse to talk about their lives living there before they moved to America. Vivi is also a huge fan of Lan's food blog and was inspired to lie to her parents and travel abroad to Vietnam for her freshman year of college program. Vivi is determined to find out why her parents left while also exploring all the places her favorite food blogger talks about. Yet when Vivi and Lan run into each other sparks begin to fly and the two girls help one another. Vivi will help Lan with her writing contest and Lan will show Vivi around Vietnam and help Vivi piece together her mother's past. Together they explore Vietnam, fall in love, and grow. This was such a sweet little read and I loved how heartwarming it was. As a Vietnamese American kid myself, this one really just tickled my heart. I love the exploration of Vietnam, the way the language and culture was interwoven, and of course, all the delicious food. The romance between Vivi and Lan was just adorable and I would absolutely recommend this book.

Release Date: August 20,2024

Publication/Blog: Ash and Books (ash-and-books.tumblr.com)

*Thanks Netgalley and Macmillan Children's Publishing Group | Henry Holt and Co. BYR Paperbacks for sending me an arc in exchange for an honest review*

[dobiemart]

my chocolate wit' yo vanilla (ugh)

pairing, edward "eddie" munson, steven “steve” harrington, william "billy" hargrove, platonic!maxine "max" mayfield x reader

summary, different scenarios where the boys (and maxie pad) get their hair messed with

word count, like two or three maybe (900+ all together)

byr, tell a friend to TELL a friend... sheesss baacckkkk

i did write this with a black!reader in mind cause these are all things id id do to my white ass bf but anybody is welcome to read regardless

do ppl read st fics anymore?? i literally havent been able to open tumblr in like three months PELASEDFJS

warnings, eddie getting popped by the comb, steve getting damn near snatched off a stool, billy almost getting fought over his choice of words, prob ooc characters because i forgot how to write for them, pretty abrupt endings to each scenario, black shenanigans, etc.

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ☆★☆★☆★☆★☆ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

━━━ EDDIE MUNSON (pb. joseph quinn.)

"eddie, thats about the dumbest shit ive ever heard come from your mouth."

“no- hear me out, babe!” eddie tried to spin around and respond before you stopped him, quickly positioning his slender body back forwards. him, being the drama queen that could never make the lead in a play that he is, started to complain before you popped the side of his head.

“hey! what was that one for?!” he exclaimed in a whiny tone, reaching up to sooth the spot you'd hit with the comb. you kissed your teeth before moving his hand out of the way and resuming your section.

“i know damn well i told you to stop moving,” you said while coming through a knot, hushing eddie before he even started his whining mess. “maybe if you would sit and be still we wouldn't have this problem.” 

“you wound me, princess.” he said while tutting his bottom lip out, mocking a pout. he knew you weren't genuinely mad, but messing with you was always fun. even if he got his ass beat. “i thought my girl was supposed to treat me rig– ow!” he was cut off by a particularly harsh yank from another knot. 

“that’s whatcha’ ass gets,” you replied with a snicker, trying not to laugh too hard at the poor boy. “after all, you agreed to let me do your hair. since you wanna be all nosy bout' ‘how i do this’ and ‘what that product over there is for.’ whenever i have the patience to do mine.” 

you gestured all over the place with your comb as you went on about his questions and concerns, though, you noticed he didn't reply with the usual "you love it, anyway," or another snarky remark that made you love him impossibly more.

he instead opted to look up at you from his spot between your legs, gazing at you with nothing but pure adoration and love in his softened eyes. his calloused, overworked hands reached up to rub at the skin of your thighs gently, sighing as he embraced the feeling of your skin.

“i love you, baby. s’much. even if you're mea-- OW!"

━━━ STEVE HARRINGTON (pb. joe keery.)

“okay, babe! you don't have to yank it like that—” steve exclaimed, gripping onto the bathroom counter as to not fall off of the stool he was perched on.

you couldn't help but cackle at his reflection in the mirror, head being yanked back by the wig cap you were trying to shove his thick mop of hair under. 

“it's not my fault you got a big ass head! jus’ hold still so i can get it all up under there,” you barely got the sentence out without bursting out in laughter at your boy, a small smile catching on his face at your humor.

he eventually smacked your hands away and started to fix his hair underneath the cap by himself, insisting that you were gonna 'ruin his wave pattern.'

“i’m never losing a bet with robin again,” he murmured after you finished adjusting the cap around his head, noticing how much he actually needed his precious bangs. “especially if you’re in on it.”

you gave a shocked gasp and lightly slapped the back of his neck. “i’m being paid good money for this, so lose as many bets as you have to.” you continued while brushing out the pale blonde wig robin picked out for him.

you placed it on his head and tugged it around, causing him to grip onto the countertop again. you fussed with it until it looked decent enough, busting out into giggles at steve’s expression in the mirror.

“babe-- you didn't even do it right! give me this brush, you ain’t finna have me lookin’ all crazy like this–” he exuded sass while snatching the brush from your manicured hands and getting to work fixing up the hair.

all you could do was laugh while he frantically fixed some flyaway pieces and tried to messily give himself a middle part with his fingers, getting frustrated when it wouldn't come out jussttt right.

"there. now can i have those swirly hairs you do on your forehead? or a swoop? my forehead is not doing me any good right now," he asked while handing you back the brush, motioning what kind of baby hairs he wanted with his fingers.

man, was this boy a piece of work.

━━━ BILLY HARGROVE (pb. dacre montgomery.)

“ma, didn't i just tell you to sit down?” billy huffed while walking into the room, seeing you up and off your floor pillow.

you froze like a deer in headlights, followed quickly by max. you both had decided it would be a great idea to have a quick dance session to the smiths before billy got back, which had obviously been cut even shorter.

you both quickly returned to your respective spots on the floor with the most innocent looks you could muster. the silent energy of the room became too much for both you and max, causing you to look over at each other and laugh your asses off at billy’s ‘i’m not mad, just disappointed.’ posture. 

he huffed and shook his head before walking over to the couch, muttering a "always gotta be so damn difficult," before placing the basket of hair products he kept at his place beside him. he tapped the cushion between his legs, letting you know to scoot back. you dragged max back with you, making the girl giggle.

“i really don't know why you both decide to test every nerve i have at every given chance, yet here we are.” he started to fuss at the both of you, snatching your bonnet off, earning him a "hey!" along with a slap on the thigh. you heard max chortle from in front of you before you snatched her matching cap off, making her stop and snatch it back.

“first of all, you can't even say allat! you get on our nerves all the time. shut that tone down before we really get to it, sir.” you snapped back at billy, max following with a “yeah! it’s not our problem that you decide to be a fun vampire every time we do something,” 

he smirked to himself and replied with a hushed “be quiet and keep your head straight, an' watch that damn attitude.” before repositioning your bobbing head, getting into the first braid of many. you obeyed and started your own work on max's hair.

he gripped every thought and prayer you had in your scalp, making sure these braids were gonna stay in for the month. if you said it didn't hurt, you'd be a damn horrendous liar. you focus on giving max french braids, as to have something to stop you from tearing up at billy's technique.

it was quiet from that point on, minus the soft rhythm of ‘how soon is now?’ playing from the radio in the corner of the room. not that he would ever admit it, but billy loved these days. days where it was just the three of you in the house, all together, surrounded by nothing but love. the domestic feeling sent a feeling of warmth to his heart.

with you two, his unsavory household became a safe home.

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ☆★☆★☆★☆★☆ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

hi pooks

ive been gone for like 3 months cause of school and work and my dog babies and my bf and arruragrhsjfsujd;

BUT im trying to slowly get back into writing cause i still love to do it when i have the opportunity

idk what else to say but likes, reblogs, and feedback are all very appreciated &lt;333

- a returning coraline! :)

© dobiemart 2022 — ☆

[boyfhee]

· BELLADONNA · lee heeseung

SYNOPSIS · sometimes, love is not about the sacrifices you make, but about the selfishness you hide.

GENRE · thriller, historical

WORD COUNT · 5k

WARNINGS · slight mentions of drugs and alcohol, slight implications of sexual activity ( not between the main characters ) graphic descriptions of injuries and associated weapons, blood, descriptions of graphic acts of violence, descriptions of a person in a very bad state. over all, this could be disturbing to some extent so please watch out before reading.

NOTE · thought i was slaying with this but i got sleepy and idk what happened in the middle, you're on your own. for @koishua's there were two collab i am literally so embarrassed fr bff idk what's ab to come, the style part of my writing yeeted itself somewhere in between i have no recollection of what happens in the middle . vie i apologise in advance. OK A FEW THINGS BYR :

don't trust me on the history here. i don't know when atropa belladonna was introduced in korea, google doesn't help. just know, it isn't native to east asia

the clans mentioned here are real though none of them reigned in the timeline this fic is set in ( since monarchy ended in korea after the end of Japanese occupation, please correct me if i'm wrong ) so, every character here is rather a descendant than a ruling figure. moreover, i don't know if lee heeseung is from jeonju lee clan or not so please do not rely on my information

atropa belladonna is toxic and contains neurotoxic alkaloids. no it was never given to pregnant women ( it's dangerous ) the severeness of this drug is heavily ignored and watered down in this fic. do no associate with the plant / drug irl

the wedding 'dress' here refers to a hanbok

THIS IS FICTION ! DONT RELY ON THE INFO HERE im saying half of it is wrong

“The best thing about being identical twins,”— Ah-young hands over her school bag to you, carefully stepping across the short trail of bush that ran along the length of the roads inside the public tutoring house— “we can switch places and no one would ever know.” 

PRESENT DAY, 1951

“Are you sure? Shouldn’t Ah-young be the one trying this?” 

“She’s trying on another dress,” Your caretaker hissed. “It’ll suit her if it suits you. You both look the same, anyway,” The first time you met her was when you and your sister were five, in the yard, picking tangerines for your mother— Madame Bella, as people called her.  

Belladonna, ‘beautiful woman’ in Italian, refers to a common cosmetic practice during the Renaissance, in which women used the plant to dilate their pupils, making their eyes look bigger. However, the name popularised in Myeongryebang in the late eighteenth century, originally assigned to women with bewitching beauty, who were known to be blessed by the Gods on the day of their birth. Atropa Belladonna, a plant introduced in Korea in the early sixteenth century, deemed illegal and marketed at a high price for those who desired it’s captivating effect, was taken and prepared into a syrup to be given in drops to women with milk in the first three months of her pregnancy, in hopes that she would give birth to beautiful children, and the bloodline will be graced by beauty for generations to come. 

Its plant was grown by the previous Lady of your house— the Belladonna Residency— who was known for her blinding attractiveness. As time passed, legend dissolved along with other historical practices, leaving behind a few of those who continued to believe, your great grandmother being one of them. And on a full moon night, with nightshade in its full bloom, your mother was born. 

“Oh, Miss Ko, I’ll take these two,” Ah-young stepped outside from her room, handing the dresses to your caretaker.“I can’t believe I’m getting married already,”

“Right, it feels like just yesterday you asked me to attend History lessons in your place because you disliked the teacher,” She sits next to you on your bed in her chemise, not caring enough to put on a shawl even during the peak of winters. 

One of the earliest memories you have with your twin sister is about the two of you attending lessons in place of each other. Ah-young filled in for your piano lessons while you did the same for History. A sense of pride followed the two of you around every time you successfully fooled your tutors under your father’s nose. Perhaps, it’s the gift of being identical— to be present and yet, be completely invisible. To win games and lodge fear in your younger cousins was the best use you both make of your striking familiarities. Amusement drizzled through your eyes every time you and Ah-young came up with another childish trick, although it didn’t last longer than when you both turned ten and met Heeseung. 

She takes your hand. “I wanted you to get married first, Yn,” 

Ah-young, meaning, grace and kindness. 

“Why?” 

“It’s scary. I’ve seen how it was for mother. So, I wanted to get married after you, for you have always been the braver one,” Your mother’s name was Sang-hee, who was married to the one of the most influential jewel merchants— your father. Sang-hee, benevolence and pleasure, that’s what her name means. They say, the meaning that a person’s name holds reflects upon their life. Names are not just words to distinguish an individual from the other, but rather, they define the person for who they are, and what they will become in life. From your maternal grandmother, Min Hei-ran from the Yoheung Min Clan, to your father, Kim Yong-san, who is a descendant of Gwangsan Kim Clan, everyone has a few things common in them— versatility, grace, wealth, desire. 

Names are for people just the way colours are for paintings. 

“But now, I have Heeseung,” The frown of her face morphs into a gleeful smile. “I’m not scared anymore,” The earliest memory you have of envy and regrets was when you were ten, and when Ah-young brought Heeseung home to introduce him to you and consequently, the whole family. 

Coming from Jeonju Lee Clan, or more appropriately, one of the descendants of the same, you knew Heeseung would hold an important place in your household. Your father focuses on establishing secure connections with prominent families while your mother, well, Miss Ko— who your father married when you and Ah-young were eight, after your birth mother hung herself from the cherry tree that faced your shared bedroom with your sister— pursued an unwavering goal of acquiring wealth and exploiting luxuries after becoming the Lady of the Belladonna Residence. Heeseung, though for you, was a ray of hope. 

Not a day was spent without you intoxicating your blood with regrets of skipping piano lessons and making Ah-young take those for you. The reason could be anywhere between not wanting to trim your perfectly manicured nails, and the fear of facing failure after knowing that your hands were nowhere as swift as hers when they danced on the keys, to the very melodies they produced. In a letter shared with your grandmother after your mother’s death, she quoted, ‘A noble blood shall bleed like one,’ Eight year old you didn’t understand the weight of those words, but thirteen year old did then you saw Miss Ko, the woman who had claimed to love your father dearly, bring drunken men into her bedroom on nights your father didn’t come home for the sake of business. The fruits of Belladonna are poisonous, presumably deadly. The tree withstands the changing of seasons, from harsh monsoon winds to calloused winter streams laced with snow. Every leaf plucked and every scar that wounds the trunk, a heart so determined to protect what belongs to it, a poison that takes life from the ones who dare ingest it raw. 

The tree is old but it never weakened. Your mother died wearing the royal hanbok that was passed down through generations by newlywed women, hiding the scars on her skin that tell tales of every moment that she spend being mistreated by your father, for a noble blood shall bleed like one, your mother never hung her head low even after a war she lost. 

“Why do you love Ah-young?” It’s a question that ought to be asked long ago, when you had first heard about their relationship. Heeseung has been the man of every woman’s dream, the ideal son-in-law for every mother with a daughter. Yet, fate guided him towards the Belladonna tree in your backyard in the middle of the night, and you knew he’s the one you’d need. Despite meeting Ah-young first, you and him were closer than any other companions you have had. He would walk you around his estate, tell you about the distant seas you’ve only heard of in stories, of the girls that chimed around him and how it makes your skin itch with disgust, because no one deserved him more than you. If so, then why her. 

“She’s beautiful,” He responded almost immediately. 

“Does that mean you love me too?” And words fell off your mouth involuntarily. Maybe because you’ve been keeping them in for so long, this was bound to happen someday. “We look the same,” 

A pause. He took a sharp breath in, averting his eyes away from you. It felt like ignorance at first, as if he’s avoiding your words, suppressing an urge to tell you how gauche they sound. The unsophisticated behaviour didn’t suit you, but every memory you share with him resurfaces every time the picture of him and Ah-young at the temple crosses your mind. Envying your sister is new, for you have always received the same things— clothes, toys, jewelries, footwears, anything materialistically possible. Neither of you have lived a life much different from each other. Seeing Ah-young has always been like seeing yourself, living with yourself, watching yourself do things in a different fashion. It has been as if you’ve been living your life with two different perspectives, but watching her with Heeseung felt foreign, like some parasite has taken your place and is living as if it belongs to her. But you can’t show it, so you continued with a chuckle, “I’m kidding,” 

“I think it’s the colours,” You realised later that what you’ve been thinking of as sheer ignorance was actually hesitation. “Red suits her more,” He added, fingers fiddling over his engagement ring. “as for you, white has always been your colour,” 

You’ve been thinking about white and red since that day. 

Day and night, awake and while sleeping, eating, bathing; his words have been plaguing your mind ever since you had that conversation with him. ‘Red suits her more,’ it rings in your ear like the sinister cawing of a crow. ‘White has always been your colour,’ it comes off as the sweetest melody you’ve ever heard. You remember him ordering cherry topped desserts every time you both ate out, the reason being, cherries are his favourite fruit and red happens to be his favourite colour. Heeseung tells you about his preferences and you hear his talk as if they’re your own, and with every ounce of information that you learn about him, a new you is born. You never liked red but started wearing it more around him, red lipstick for the evening you were supposed to tell him your feelings before he sent a messenger notifying you that he wouldn’t be able to come. You wouldn’t have minded being disrespected if he hadn’t gone to the academy to visit your sister and congratulate her with red roses for winning the debate.   

You rush to her room and shut the door the moment she steps out to finalise a few things regarding the wedding. You take her wedding dress out from the cupboard, there’s jealousy oozing through the cracks on your skin, fingertips leaving prints of greed all over the silk fabric as you stand in front of the mirror, one hand holding it in front of you while the other brushes over it’s soft creases, admiring it’s heavenly look. You’re picturing yourself in the attire, next to your Heeseung, celebrating your day, just like it was supposed to be from the beginning. Sisters for life, what everyone taught you both as children. ‘Because your sister is your biggest fear and your greatest weapon, treat her with tenderness,’ quoted your grandmother. But you’ve attended all the history lessons for her; and the lesson of History is that no one ever learns. 

Your eyes traverse between the dress and the image of you in the mirror, heart sighing with admiration that screamed of wanting more. A smile makes it way up your lips, fingers wrapping tighter around the hem of your dress— a promise you make with the silk, to never let go. You twirl around, the image of you in that dress next to Heeseung getting clearer and clearer in your mind. You’ve spent your childhood playing into each other’s roles. You know it in your blood, the foot she steps forward first while walking, the turn she sleeps, the style she dances, the pattern she breathes. Your eyes land upon a photo frame of her and Heeseung from the day of their engagement. A sharp breath in, you straighten your back, mimicking her pose from the picture, a soft sigh out; sometimes, you think you are more like Ah-young than she, herself, could ever be. 

“What are you doing?” The door flies open, your blood runs cold. The sight of your sister has never been so frightening. 

Ah-young has been all about sharing, from elite delicacies to credits for things you didn’t even help her enough with, to reach the finished product. To think, she gets more of her traits from your aunt. You don’t remember your mother being much of a saint, except when it came to her daughters. You remember her cradling you in her lap on nights neither of you could sleep. While most of the mothers would recite tales of fairies and land of sweets, your mother told you about the horrendous acts of people, the traps set by family members, about how trust is nothing but giving someone the power over yourself. She’d warn you about the horrors of the nights, the limits that men would cross to strip a woman off her dignity, the acts your best companion would exhibit behind your back to step over you. She would teach you of ways you could secure your position in the hierarchy— 

“Oh, well, I was seeing how I’d look in a wedding dress,” —and of ways you could acquire what if yours, and if, for some reason, you’re unable to find one, she’d teach you to make one. 

“You would not look much different from me,” She mumbles up close, standing right behind you and holding you steady by your shoulder with one hand while the other lifts up your chin to face the mirror. “Just as pretty,” 

“I love how dreamy it looks,” She takes the dress from your hand, putting it around herself and twirls like a toddler. There’s a faint blush on her cheeks, eyes glistening with all the happiness the world could offer to the mortals. Her words talk about her content with the dress and how perfect it looks, while your mind paints a picture of Ah-young standing next to Heeseung on your wedding day, and you know she’s trying to steal him from you just as she has always done. “The design, patterns, and such fine work of embroidery. Don’t you think so?” 

You walk to the drawer behind her. “Yes, it’s spellbindingly beautiful,” 

“I’ve always thought white of as an empty colour, it doesn’t quite fit me. But wearing this, I look pretty,” Every passing second erodes the patience you’ve been keeping in for years. Her voice stings in your ears, making you feel like they’d bleed out of pain. She looks at herself in the mirror, the smile never leaving her face, saccharine words of love leaving her mouth relentlessly; you want to shut her up. A knife from the kitchen would do the work, you can slice off her tongue, or take the embroidery box from her bedside table and sew the mouth with nylon. Your breath gets faster, shallower than it was, ears begging you to stop her from talking further, but she doesn’t shut up. You pick up the flower vase. “White must really suit me!” 

And the next second, she’s on the floor, succumbing to unconsciousness while looking at you with eyes that call for help, despite knowing what you did. Her eyes shut close, silence takes over the room, you stand still with the flower vase in your hand. A part of you feels content, she’s gone, while the other fears the reality of being caught. You consider running away, but her words ring inside your head like a tinnitus, making it unable for you to think straight. And so, you drag her unconscious body under your bed, wiping the droplets of blood from the wooden floor with acetone, hoping it would go away. But the voices compel you to go further. 

You snatch the dress out of her grip before kicking her under the bed. “White has always been my colour.” 

A part of you hopes she never wakes up, for this is your chance. Another part of you wants her to be alright, because you wouldn’t be able to answer if someone asked for the two of you together. Though, the voice tells you to keep going— kill her, throw her, burn her, all sorts of things that have never crossed your mind in any situation. You could go, grab water and help her wake up, but the picture of you and Heeseng appears before your eyes, and suddenly you want her gone. 

“Your sister is not coming down for dinner?” Miss Ko asks when only you show up for dinner instead of the two of you. She has been working for the Residence for years but still hasn't learnt how to distinguish between the two of you. She has been looking after the two of you ever since you both were four but, there hasn’t been one day where she actually cared about you and your sister. Ko’s goal was to earn as much as she could, to live a lavish life, and she would go beyond extents if it means she could get what she dreams for. Maybe, it’s another reason why you’ve always found her similar to yourself. 

“She’s not hungry as of now,” You reply with a smile, a smile that otherwise dances on Ah-young’s face. “I’ll take her food upstairs,” A part of you wants to poison her dinner, easiest of all methods. Or maybe, you should melt her face with concentrated acids to create disfigurements and throw her by the city outskirts so that no one suspects who she actually is. You can stab her and hire guards who would feed her to hungry wolves and vultures. There are a number of other ways, burying her in your backyard and making it seem like she ran away— you ran away, because from today onwards, you were going to live as her, for her identity is all you need to make Heeseung yours.                                              

“Ah-young, I have brought you dinner!” Your voice sounds cynically sweet, words laced with deadly adoration, hoping to see your sister, but the place where you left her remains empty. You pause, fingers gripping the diner plate firmly. “My lovely sister, you never learn, do yo—” And a strike from behind you sends you to the floor, pain radiating from the site of injury to your entire head. You turn your head around, your sister stands with her jewellery box in her hands, shaking with fear. Your hands are covered with the dinner you brought her, and now you wish they were coloured in her blood. 

“Yn,” She crouches in front of you, putting the jewellery box aside, taking your face in her hands. “This is not you,” And listening to her talk like she actually knew you made your blood boil, so you grab her neck, holding her down to the floor, watching her tap your hands to let go while struggling to breathe, with a smile on your face. Her face turns pale, eyes shutting close before you let go, loosening the grip around her throat. 

“No, this is you,” You brush strands of hairs off her face, hovering over the frightened figure that struggled and coughed to breath. “I am you, Ah-young, the one who’s getting married tomorrow,” A sinister touch graces your words, a smile that keeps growing wider with every sob that chokes out of her mouth. There’s an odd sense of satisfaction in the way she begs for her life, as if the Heavens are making her pay for stealing what belonged to someone else, and you wish you could relive this moment for as long as you wanted. 

Her hand reaches out for yours. “Why are you doing this?” She cries out. 

“Right, why do I have to do this?” And you sit back, pretending to think of reasons to justify your actions, although there is only one explanation: Heeseung, and you continue, “I am pretty. I have no reason to be jealous of you,” 

“We’re literally the same,” Somehow, she manages to draw a chuckle out of her, attempting to pull herself up and sit straight. You’ve come to despise those words, ‘twins,’ ; ‘same,’ they make you feel suffocated. Ah-young always had the habit of using those against you, and every time those words rolled off her tongue, it felt like you'd ripped off your identity, not that you had one that belonged solely to you in the first place. You try to imagine Heeseung’s reaction in this situation, would he take your side or hers, or if he would even care who survives because you both look the same, it barely makes any difference. 

But, somewhere inside, you know he would choose her over you.  “That’s right,” There’s firmness in your voice, a sense of hatred, as your hand ghosts up her cheeks and grabs onto her hair. “Then why do you get to have all the good things?” 

Perhaps, it’s the fragrance of the nightshade flowers that fill your room and intoxicate your senses, but the blood on your palms feels like jewels of a newlywed, and her pleas to be spared— music to your ears. You always had it in you, the will to fight back, the numbness to fear, the sparks of insanity that blew up and suddenly, your heart is in flames. Normality has always been a paved road, comfortable to walk but no flowers could grow. You were the flower that yearned to bloom, your sister was the tree taking up your sunlight. When a flower doesn’t grow, one shall change the environment it has been planted in, and not the flower itself. The soil must be tilled, weeds should be removed, pests are to be killed, anything unnecessary shall be discarded. You could care less about her silent wails trying to reach across the piece of cloth in her mouth as you dragged her to the basement from under the staircase. Her cries got louder with every step that her head hit down the stairs, across the cold concrete stinging her satiny skin, albeit not enough to cross the walls and reach for help, every second filled you with content; a step closer to the love of your life. 

“Heeseung would never love you,” And silence. The words leave her mouth as soon as you remove the handkerchief. You wanted to hear her beg for her life, to plead forgiveness, to quietly hand over what you wanted if she feared death, but her words come off as a curse, as if she’s trying to anathematise your to-be married life with him, to take away the happiness you’ve been devoid of for years. You could fear her words and the wrath of Gods that may follow along as a consequence of your actions, but you have the desire, and nothing to lose. 

For you have always been a child of war, and Ah-young is simply born with tragedy in her blood. 

The basement served as a cell for solitary confinement for the previous family who lived in the house, for children who displayed unacceptable behaviour and disobeyed their parents, for servants who said more than what was needed, for wives who dared standing on the same level as their husbands. The walls of the house have been renovated over the years, decorated with exquisite wallpapers everytime they have been changed. People fawn upon its beauty, unaware of the secrets it hides deep down below. The walls of the basement have seen a lot over the decades, centuries, even, and the decoloured blood stains on the floor and corners describe each of those stories. One would quiver under the worn out ceiling that feels that it holds eyes and spirits of the dead beyond its arches. Though, Ah-young stares at you with resentment in her stare, one that was filled with hope up until a few minutes ago. 

You could gauge her eyes out, the ones that she’s so proud of, the ones that hold all the memories of Heeseung that should’ve been yours. Or, you could carve her plum skin with incisions and lacerations, painful enough that her soul withers inside, deep enough to leave scars that would make it difficult for anyone to believe she's the daughter of the most beautiful woman in the state. You could do things no one would do to their siblings— the ten year old didn’t know a day like this would come— but some things are inevitable. The scissors are in your hand, she is in front of you, slouched down, hands tied behind her back with wrists that have been bruised by the rope, oh so poor eyes gleaming with pain and hatred wishing they could do something. The scissors are in your hand, and your hand is on her cheek, the cold metal sending shivers down her spine as you run it down her face— the game was yours to play.  

“Hell, you look so much like me, I can’t even kill you,” You whisper close. The scissor is on her neck, it’s as if you could fear her blood rushing through the arteries, right under the skin. You slide it across her throat, pressing it on her collarbones— Ah-young draws in a quick breath— you pierce through her skin, a minute cut, single tear rolling down her cheek that lands on the back of your hand; it feels like you’re killing yourself. “Well, I guess we’ll get to see each other around, yes?” 

You discard the scissor somewhere behind you, taking a few steps back, watching her fall down to the floor, eyes squeezed shut in excruciating pain. It’s nowhere near what you’ve experienced all these years, alone and in regrets, guilt and depreciation, watching the person you love fall in love with someone else. But, love doesn’t ask for sacrifices, for kindness. Love isn’t about letting go, but instead, it’s about holding onto, love is about crossing the limits to prove that you’re deserving of it; because love has always been about the selfishness your heart conceals. You pick up the handkerchief, your sister chanting trails of nos while shaking her head, throwing her leg around frantically to keep you away, but your hand grabs her face, nails digging mercilessly into her skin, enough to draw blood. A moment of silence, ‘stop’ she begs you with her eyes, ‘die’ you tell her with yours, and put the cloth around her mouth, tying it behind her head. 

Tears fall further. Your lips curl up. 

“He’s right, red suits you the best,” You wipe your thumb on her temple, over the loose clot that had formed on her wound. Your smile grows wider, you pluck out the mass of dead cells, letting the pus and blood ooze out as her muffled wails fill the room. Your hands cup her cheeks, a touch of pity, and you lean in towards her forehead, a kiss of death. “Goodnight, dear sister,” 

Perhaps, it’s the game of fates, how destiny plays into the hands of those who continue to fight without fearing the aftermath. The irony of happiness and despair— they go hand in hand. Sunlight graces upon the lands and your handmaidens are ready with everything they need for the bride, not you— Ah-young; unaware of the truth that lies beneath the grounds they walk onto, the truth under the enchanting smile that makes everyone believe in the tricks you’ve played. 

The eyes leave you unattended for minutes and you're on your way to the basement. The air inside smells of urine; your nose scrunches in disgust. A lot could happen in one night, you expected to greet her corpse by dawn, for she has always been as fragile as a dandelion, but you’re met with her exhausted body that dragged itself to the cover, above the dusty rags to save itself from the deadly cold of winter nights. 

“Look at you,” You say it in a way she would’ve said it if she could. It wasn’t intentional, you’ve just always been more like her sister, more than anyone ever knew. A chuckle rolls off your tongue as you walk to her, pulling her rolled up chemise down her thighs, admiring the scratches on her legs that she had gotten while dragging herself over the concrete and the numerous little red spots left by the mosquitos on her arms and feet. Even with chapped lips that beg for water and hands that are tied to even wipe off the nasal discharge off her face, her eyes spell of indignation at the sight of you, brimming with fear and yet so full of anger and detest. The blood had dried off her face, the wound inflicted on her collarbone inflamed to stages it could possibly be home to infections her soul would have never heard of. You could barely say she was your sister, that she was even a part of you, let alone being the splitting image, because you were standing in your best dress while she was lying in the dust that had soaked the blood off the injury on the back of her head. She looks defeated, head hung low, like a pest that had been hunted by the predator and is now ready to be eaten. Her eyes ask a question— why, and nothing more. Perhaps, an answer would help her survive without food and water longer than her body could sustain itself. You take a step towards her, accidently hitting your elbow against the corner of a rusted iron cupboard and wincing in the process. She laughs through the cloth, you restrain yourself from coercing into picking up the scissors thrown around and slitting her face from one end to the other, making sure she smiled forever. 

You grit your teeth, fist closed tight, eyes glaring into her putrid sight. Her condition makes you feel good about yourself, that you don’t need to feel threatened by such lowly lives, until your eyes land onto something shiny on her fingers, and it belongs to you. She needed an answer why, you have nothing to say for she’s smart, except what she used to tell you all the time: 

“The best thing about being identical twins,”— You take her hand, slipping out the engagement ring from her finger before sliding it on your own— “we can switch places and no one would ever know.” 

note : if u made it this far ,, thank u i luv u pls lmk what u think im itching to know 😔

[undyneluvs]

hey there! always a pleasure to see more writers around. as for requests hmm... how about this : how would light yagami react if his s/o got badly injured? like on a "oh shit they could have died" level. please and thank you. 💕

a/n ; Hey there, anon! being a writer is honestly so fun and I’m just happy to do it! This one is a little short but I hope you enjoy! ❤️ (also, reqs are open so send some more in! writing this was super duper fun)

BYR (before you read,) ; Reader knows Light is Kira, mentioning of blood, bruises, nose bleeds, fluff, not a relationship like him and misa’s! you guys are healthy! GN ! reader (gender neutral), not proof read :p

“Cuts”

“Light..” You groaned out, holding onto your beat up shoulders as you felt a line of blood slide down from your nose, to your lip, to your chin, and then dropping in-front of Light’s front porch.

You weren’t too sure if he would answer the door, after all, it was about 2:04 in the morning, not only that but it was freezing.. and you didn’t have good clothes for weather like this. A tight tank top and shorts.

To your surprise, he opened up the door, rubbing his eye. It was obvious that he was just sleeping, but once he saw you, he was fully awake.

“Y/N— what the hell?!” He said in a raspy voice, He moved your hands off of your shoulders, tracing over all the cuts and bruises you had. Light wiped the blood off of your nose. His eyes were filled with worry, and he looked at you with an angry look.

“What happened..?! Who did this to you?..” He asked, and then noticed that your eyes looked extremely glossy, and soon enough, you were bawling your eyes out.

“They asked me — if I knew anything about.. Kira.. I..I wouldn’t say anything .. so .. they.. they..” You sobbed and covered your face, humiliated that you could let yourself get beat up this easily. You wiped the tears that kept flowing down your eyes, and just wiping your whole face entirely which caused blood to be smeared all over your face.

“Ryuzaki wouldn’t go this far..” Light said, trying to think of who could do this. “Come inside, please.. it’s freezing out here.” He said, holding your hand and quickly pulling you inside as he closed the door. If the two of you were caught talking outside, they would’ve known it was him, without a doubt.

He would guide you to the living room and sat you down on the couch, wrapping you up with a warm blanket that smelt just like him .. his scent comforted you more than anything, but in this situation, that wasn’t enough. It didn’t bring you half of the comfort it used to.

“Stay right here..” He said, planting a kiss on your lips that were covered in your blood.

Once he stepped back, you could see that some of your blood covered his mouth which made you laugh a bit.

“What?” He asked. “What is it?” You pointed at his lip and wiped the blood off of it, showing him. He laughed, but then remembered that he had to take care of you so quickly dashed off to his bathroom. He grabbed cotton swabs, alcohol and bandaids.

Your teeth were chattering, still freezing although you had a blanket over you. It felt like Light was gone forever, but it’s only been a few seconds.

Light quickly dashed back, spilling a few droplets of alcohol on his way to you. “Here — sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it isn’t.” He said.

He dropped down on his knees in-front of you and twisted the loose cap on-top of the leaking alcohol bottle off, and covered a cotton ball with the alcohol. “This is gonna burn a bit ..” He warned you, a shiver being sent down your spine as a stinging pain was sent to one of the numerous open cuts on your arm.

“This is all my fault.. I’m sorry. I put you in danger, I can’t be seen with you anymore..” He said, inhaling deeply, then exhaling.

You placed your hand on your chin and then made him look at you. “Light..” you said, smiling. “Don’t worry, thank you for caring.. but I want to be with you, forever. I don’t care if I get beat up millions of times, I just want to be with you.”

“..Y’sure..?” He asked. “I don’t want you getting hurt anymore.. especially not like this..” He said, his eyes lowering as he unpackaged a box of bandaids, struggling.

“Look at me.” You said.

“I promise.” You said, kissing him on his soft lips. “We can tell Ryuzaki tomorrow morning and I’m sure he’ll figure it out. I’m sure he’ll also agree that they got nothing out of beating me up.”

Light laughed as he placed a bandaid on your arm.

“Ugh.. these are gonna leave a bunch of scars..” you said, sighing and sniffling.

“Not if you take care of them, they won’t.” Light said. “Besides, I think even if they left scars, you’d look pretty badass.”

You snickered and gently punched his arm. “I love ya, Light..” You could only see the top of his head, but for the first time in a while, you noticed him smile, as well as him blushing a bit.

[literaticat]

Hi Jenn - I was wondering whether there is any discernible difference between being published by a big 5 imprint that has the same name as the overall house (ex. the Random House imprint itself), vs an imprint under the same house but with a different name? Are you more likely to be a lead title and get more marketing support if you are being published by the former? Is there more implied prestige? Thank you <3

Short answer: no.

But since you probably want a longer answer:

In case you don't know it, most publishers, particularly large and VERY large publishers, are broken up into "groups" and "imprints" -- that is, different brands all under the umbrella publisher. This goes for ALL the big publishers, but I'll focus on PRH since that was your example:

Penguin Random House is broken up into multiple "groups" and within those groups are multiple imprints. << (that link shows all the groups and their imprints!)****

The two groups you mostly would be familiar with on the kids side are Penguin Young Readers Group and Random House Children's Books. But WITHIN those, on the Penguin side, there is Viking, Dutton, Philomel, Putnam, Kokila, Penguin Workshop, Rocky Pond, etc etc. And on the RH side, there's Random House Books for Young Readers, Delacorte, Knopf, Crown, Labyrinth Road, Make Me a World, etc etc.

They are ALL part of PRH. There is no imprint just called "Penguin" on the kid's side -- you have to go to one of the imprints. There IS an imprint called RH BYR -- but there is no special perk or prestige to being published by that imprint vs Knopf, or whatever other RH imprint. Individual imprints may be different sizes or have different specialities, missions, or "vibes" -- but they are all PRH, none of them are particularly "better" or "worse". (They might be better or worse for YOUR book, but they aren't better or worse to the general public or anything like that!)

For example: Rocky Pond is pretty much one main editor, and it has a specific mission: Kids books for all ages that focus on mental health and social/emotional learning. Kokila has several editors, and a specific mission: Kids books for all ages that center marginalized voices/experiences. Rise has two editors, and a specific mission: "To engage, empower, and evolve the youngest readers (ages 0-5) with authentic, relevant, and elegant books." -- you get the picture, right? Different vibes! So if YOUR book was appropriate for one of those imprints, maybe that's the best imprint for it. You'd still be "published by Penguin Random House" -- you'd be a "Penguin author" -- you'd just be at one of the smaller imprints that specializes in that kind of book. (And in the case of Penguin, since there literally IS NO IMPRINT just called "Penguin" -- well, you are gonna be at a differently named imprint!)

(The RH side is more difficult to discern from that link because the RH imprints don't have their "mission statements" listed like that, so I'll just tell you -- Delacorte is mostly highly commercial YA & MG fare, Knopf is books for all ages that are more "literary", RH BYR tends to be commercial middle grade, chapter books, series, etc, RH Graphic = Graphic novels, Joy Revolution is basically diverse romances by and about BIPOC characters, Labyrinth Road I'd think of for MG adventure/fantasy series, etc. There's crossover, of course, but essentially: Different vibes for different kinds of books! If your book is a commercial chapter book series, it's probably gonna be RH BYR -- if it is a lyrical and literary picture book, it probably WON'T be -- and that's fine!)

--

**** ETA: If you want to know more, this info is out there and available online for all the publishers, it's not secret information. I always suggest, when you read a book, make a note of the publisher/imprint, because you will start to see patterns -- that's the best way to get the "vibe" of a given imprint, and can help you find comps, figure out where YOUR book belongs, etc etc.

[mallahanmoxie]

im always fascinated by dani's lives unlived, if you can call them that, in the sense that she's always talking about how if she had no knowledge of the true nature of her world, she'd act just like the rest of the girls around the boys (and thus, she implies, have no discernible impact in the lives of byr and the 4hk) or how it's her absence after middle school that makes haegarim such a sad little story, even after her role is replaced by choi yuri (a pale imitation, but you know, the principle of the matter is that her absence should not technically matter).

while i do think the freedom of not knowing the world she inhabits is fictional would make her act significantly more relaxed about some things, her nature is such that other social constraints would invariably hold her back. ban yeoryung's beauty and brains, the kids' wealth and social status, her own inability to measure up to her parents and society's exorbitant standards--these are all things that would continue to bother her and separate her from them, and in the first two cases, she wouldn't even have an explanation for why these things are the way they are. in the real world, beauty and wealth are "luck of the draw" (in the sense that you are born randomly to whatever circumstances your family is in) but in inso, there's a compelling order to the world which is understandable. these people are like this because they are fulfilling these roles. you can find it unfair, but you get it. there is no sense in injustice in the real world.

and then i also think that even if she acted just like those girls, in the sense that she'd maybe allow herself to fan over the boys or resent yeoryung a little, her direct action would still have irreversible impact on the story. i just think there is simply no way dani can exist within the story and not change these people's lives in some way. her presence is a springboard from which these characters define themselves, which is why she's so crucially the protagonist (while not being the heroine). it's so hard to explain this without spoilers but, like, her not being there derails their lives as we know them entirely, and when she is there--well, there you see the story morphing under her hands. that's what we're reading.

and so i find all those universes in which she exists differently so fascinating because it pushes at the questions raised within the text and left unresolved, or tied up and set aside. what if she met jiho when they were both adults? would she change his life then as well or would he be too far gone, as he feared? are we capable of true meaningful change at any time or do we have to take advantage of these precious windows of opportunity lest we lose them forever? and if we are, what do we need to kickstart that change? is she enough? (she is always enough)

[arcs-and-blah]

Being his son's homeroom and heroics teacher had its perks. It if weren't for that, Aizawa would've never known about his son's days going from bright, high peaks to his current dark, near shut-down lows. Having enough of witnessing his son's disheartened state, Aizawa did what any parent would do, offering all his support during trying times. But what could've been behind Bakugou's major upset? (Part of Katsuki Drop AU, but can be read as standalone!)

So it's been 2 years since I've last posted a fic TTwTT;;; Trust me, I've been wanting to write--just don't got the time and energy like I had way back then riiiiiip... Even this one took ages to finish =q=;;;

Anywho! A plot bunny I had for my old KD AU >w<)9 and my first fic for hella rare pair ShinBaku! Maybe I'll have ideas for writing more of this pairing (already possibly thinking about sequel chapter to this one), but we'll see! Hopefully I can write more in general really... =q=;;;

thanks @/robogill for editing!

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[Katsuki Drop] | [first chapter] | [Ko-fi] | [Patreon]

-*-

A quick BYR for those unfamiliar or need quick refresher with KD AU below:

Aizawa takes in a 4-year-old Kacchan after a drug bust and, over time, become family

Kacchan's birth-father was a major drug lord villain OC (Mitsuki and Masaru are cats here uwu)

Class 1-A were canon aged, so they are now aged up pro hero adults; he's like their little brother-figure (though, he's only accepted a very few as his older sibling-figure)

Kacchan started going by Bakugou Katsuki when he started middle school so that 1) classmates/people wouldn't piece together him being Aizawa's kid, and 2) didn't want a hand-out for getting in UA, applying under said alias

[liostims]

Hello!! Welcome to my account, my name is Lio! Or Kiyo, if you’d rather call me that ❤️

This blog is stim & food themed, but includes a variety of gifs and stimboards, not just food themed! All gifs on this blog belong to me, and are made by me, unless stated otherwise. Please credit me if any of my gifs are used! And I’d appreciate if you’d tell me if you see any of my gifs have been stolen! My old blog was @kiyostimboardz , however I have now relocated to here, and plan to make this blog better than that one via crediting and tagging properly! My requests are ALWAYS open for anyone who wishes to request, it may just take me a bit to complete them sometimes!

This account may also feature some of my meals as someone attempting recovery from an ED. However, I will not go into detail, just post some meals + how I made them.

I do not have a DNI, as I do not care who I interact with! However I only mutual stim or food accounts <3

More about the owner of this blog..

I am a transfem enby who uses they/it/xe aswell as some neos (dm for them if you think you’d like to use them), my main blog is @murruspins , however that blog is treated more as a diary for my special interests and rants, and isn’t very organised. Feel free to check it out if you’d like to though! This blog is more organised themed on stims and stimboards specifically, as stated earlier. Anywho! Back to me. I’m physically disabled/chronically ill, I have cfs (chronic fatigue syndrome) and Ehlers danlos syndrome, so I may take a while to post sometimes during flareups or bad days/weeks! Please bear with me. My dms are always open!, If I break your dni in any way shape or form, please inform me, I probably didn’t realise.

I am also the owner of a discord server for Stimblr and stimtok! More information in this post here.

My tags . . .

lio’s stims = Gifs & Stims made by me

lio’s stimboards = Stimboards made by me!

lio’s requests = Stimboards/Gifs that were requested by people :3

lio’s userboxes | = any of my userboxes !

BYR (before you request) . . .

I will not do stimboards of: nsfw, darkships or anything of that nature!

I will do stimboards of: pretty much anything else! I’m not very picky. However, if I don’t know the media, and you don’t provide extra information, I might not do it exactly how you want me to :[. Any extra info is really appreciated, and helps me make it as accurate as possible!

My backup is @liostimz ,,,

Thank you for reading!!

PS: my banner is made by tinyowlet !!

[gumiluver]

CHERRY POPPIN’! ~ JJK NSFW SCENARIOS

synopsis: he pops your cherry 🍒🖤

cover pic credit: she0yl on pinterest

lovers <3: afab!reader, gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, fushiguro/zen’in toji, ryomen sukuna

byr/byi: the content in this fic is not suitable for individuals under the age of 18, minors please do not interact

cw: pwp, nsfw, minors DNI, corruption kink, dirty talk, mentions of virginity loss, pet names, squirting (‘kuna), dacryphilia (kento), spitting (toji), finger sucking (‘kuna)

✧༺♥༻✧ ✧༺♥༻✧ ✧༺♥༻✧

SATORU 🖤

While most may perceive Satoru to be a slutty little tease—which is inherently true—he would take you with utmost care and sincerity. To him, this is an act of pure, unadulterated love—something he’s experienced once in his life that flew from his grasp too soon. He’s lucky to experience it again, so he makes sure to pay extra attention and time when he has you underneath him.

He savors every inch of your body and shows you just how good sex can feel and how it should feel. He wants you to remember what you saw, what you felt, how you felt—he wants to ensure that you remember this moment in its entirety, forever.

He told himself that he would restrain himself—he has too. He knows better than to lose control and ask for more, but fuck—the way your warm, plush cunt felt around his thick shaft had him begging for round two— how could you deny that sweet face of his?

“shhh, baby I know shhhh—breathe with me now,” he soothes, holding you closely to his chest as you sit on his lap, cock shoved deeply into your untouched womb. You’re panting ridiculously, enough to make gojo worry that you’ll pass out before you even get to experience the fun. You’re gripping onto his shoulders tightly, shoving your face into the crook of his neck to inhale his comforting scent, hoping to ground yourself back to reality. It’s sweet, yet husky—the perfect thing to refocus your poor, scrambled mind.

You knew it was going to be uncomfortable, but you didn’t expect that you would feel so…full—so deep. You know for a fact that your fingers have never reached that deep into your pussy, and while his fingers always sunk deliciously into your core it never felt quite this…filling.

“tell me how you feel princess, need to hear you talk t’ me” he says, gently pushing your body forward to look at you. He cups your cheek and presses his forehead against yours, wanting to keep you close and provide as much comfort to you as possible. He gives you slow, circular thrusts that don’t necessarily have the normal amount of heft that he’d love to give you, but does have that same passion and rigor that he dreamed of—he just couldn’t help himself.

“f-feel you so…d-deep, ‘toru. ‘s-so full—nnghhh!!” you groan, already a cockdrunk mess from the mind-numbing pleasure. It rumbles throughout your body and settles in the depths of your womb, waiting for the perfect moment to send you over the edge, “n-need more ‘toruuu, please!!” you cry, begging for something that you couldn’t quite place, but Satoru reads you loud and clear and gives you exactly what you need, “s’okay baby, I got you,”

He starts up a slow, tender pace that makes his thick cock twitch against your plush walls, perfectly pressing his tip against that snug place that’s so soft and squishy, a place satoru fingers are all too familiar with.

“Aghhh!!” you yelp, feeling your walls spasm against his cock. Your juices dripping down your pussy and onto your plump ass as if it were crying—vying—for his attention. He feels your virgin pussy clench impossibly tighter around him, and he swears he can see the heavens and hear its beings call to him from above—downright delusional from how fucked up your pussy’s got him.

“thaaaat’s it, such a good girl fr’ me—opening up nicely on my cock,” he groans, losing himself in the pleasure your pussy provides him. With every slow thrust he gives you his grunts get louder, eagerness lacing each pant that begged to feel more of you, to have more of you, to claim more of you “goddd this pussy’s suckin’ me dry, princess—gonna let me keep fuckin’ you after we cum together, right?”

SUGURU 🖤

Suguru thinks it’s endearing of you; naive, but endearing. He truly has no idea how you’ve made it this far without having sex, a pretty girl like you must be waiting for her knight in shining armor—too bad you fell for his curse instead.

Now, that’s not to say that he doesn’t treat you like a princess. Of course he’s gentle with you! Always been so carefully observant over your silly little behaviors and expressions. He’s engrained all of your sweet smiles and laughs, so he knows how to read you perfectly—a blessing and a curse.

He can’t help but tease and rile you up, loving how you wiggle and shy away from him. But now, he gets to see you at your most vulnerable, and the cherry on top is getting to be your first out of everyone else. He knows that you’ll be hooked on him once you get a taste, leaving him with the perfect opportunity to consume your deliciously sweet innocence.

“Gonna start movin’ now m’kay? n’ don’t be afraid to moan fr’ me, princess,” he whispers lowly into your neck, lips brushing dangerously close to your skin as he soothes your aching body. You can feel your pussy pulse throughout your core, making you shiver from your head to your feet. After giving a gentle hum and a small nod, suguru begins to move his hips in slow, circular motions. Carefully tilting his pelvis forward, he effectively brushes up against the hood of your clit, stimulating your poor, neglected bud.

And the pleasure that bursts in your core from his subtle movements had you ready to cum in a matter of seconds, “aahh—AAHH~!! Suguruuu~!!” you cry out, surprised at how different this type of pleasure felt. Sure your fingers can get the job done of course, but to have the love of your life stretch you out while he plays with your sensitive bud makes you feel like you’re going insane.

“mmmm, can feel you getting wetter fr’ me, love. Is it cause you like it when I fuck you? Could that be it princess?” he taunts, starting to accelerate his pace yet never fully pulling out. Plus, the way your virgin pussy clenches around his cock—fuckin’ hell—he doesn’t even think he can get out of your pussy.

A certain squeak from you captures his attention, and he can’t help but slowly press his cock deeper into your princess pussy—wanting to sheathe himself deeper into your womb so that you can fucking taste his cock. He knows he’s struck gold once you let out another squeak, but this time it morphs into a pretty little squeal that makes his dick throb inside your tight walls—such a lovely little sound, “oh? right there, huh?”

Embarrassed, you cover your mouth as he continues to ruthlessly circle his hips, forcing his tip to poke and prod perfectly into your sweet spot. He’s pushing your thighs up to wrap around his slutty waist, allowing him deeper access to your dripping pussy, but instead of hearing the glorious sounds of your pretty wails he hears a muffled little scream that he knows would’ve rattled the neighborhood—how disappointing.

“ah ah ah—what do you think your doin’, naughty girl?” he scolds, tsking at your feeble attempts of silencing your salacious whines. The hand that was gripping the back of your thigh travels upward to rip your hand away from your mouth. He’s captured both your hands, easily pinning them above your head, and the pitiful whimper that travels from your lips makes suguru’s cock pulse intensely within your princess walls. You can literally feel the beat of his cock, and fuck does it feel good.

Right before you can look away from his piercing gaze, his other hand shoots up to grip your chin firmly, forcing you to keep your eyes on him. The look he gives you dares you to challenge him, to look away and hide your face, to stifle your shaky and pleasure-filled breaths.

He wants you to let go of your guard and give in to him—to let him have all of you, unconditionally.

He peers into your puppy eyes, letting his thumb glide across your bottom lip before he shoves it in your mouth. You whine around his thumb, and before you can start sucking on it he pulls it out and places his hand back around your neck—not to constrict your airflow but to make sure that your attention is solely on him, “you know what I want, sweetheart—go on, moan for me…better yet, scream for me,”

KENTO 🖤

If there is any man in the world even worthy of glimpsing at your most sacred form, it would be Nanami Kento. He admires and appreciates your mind and body, worships the ground you walk on and the very essence of you. Hell, if you were a powerful deity he would sacrifice bountiful goods to you, dedicate shrines to you, create epics and poems about you. He would be your most dutiful follower.

A diligent man—always been known to take his time and to never rush his work, so when you confide to him that you’ve never had sex before, too scared to give something so delicate to someone who’ll just bust a quick nut and dump you the next day, he knows he’ll be putting in some overtime—not like he really minds.

Kento will make sure that you have the most mind blowing orgasm that you’ll ever experience; an orgasm to put all future orgasm to shame and leave you desperately crawling back to him for more.

“doing so good for me sweetheart, keep holdin’ on to me—just like that love, ” he praises, watching his cock slowly disappear into your tight pussy as you start gripping onto his biceps. He feels the sharp sting of your nails piercing into his flesh, and he can’t help but wish to feel you rake his back red instead.

“ken-kento, mmmm…f-feels different,” you whimper to him, feeling the subtle burn begin to fade away and bloom into something foreign—something exciting. You feel it shake your core and ripple throughout your body, almost as if it were forcing you to work on overdrive. You can’t help it when your pussy constricts around his poor cock that’s just aching to fully sheathe itself inside you.

“ngghh—fuuuckk,” Kento growls deeply—a subtle declaration of his restraint. He’s gripping the headboard above you so tightly that you start to hear the wood splinter under his grasp. His other hand lowers to grasp at your hip, trying to prevent himself from losing control and pistoning his cock straight into your warmth. You can see him clench his jaw while he stills his hips, a shaky breath leaving his plush lips. And you try to be a good girl for him, you really do, but it’s all just so much for your poor virgin pussy to handle.

“hhnngg—kentooo!! s’ too biiiiig—aaaahhhh!!~” you cry out, squeezing your eyes shut as you try and wiggle away, but kento’s quick to recover and pin your sneaky little hips down to the bed. He coos at you, rubbing gentle circles on your hips and leans closer to your neck, wanting to coax you back to him.

After peppering gentle kissing all the way up to your neck, he travels towards the shell of your ear, breath fanning sinfully against your skin making your pussy quiver with anticipation, “sh, sh, sh, baby—focus on my voice, good girl,” he moans, pulling away from you to get a good look at your pretty face.

But once he sees you open your eyes, he feels all his restraint fly right out the window.

“Oh…poor baby,” he says, unmistakably obsessed with how fucked out you look right now, so helpless for your pleasure. He can’t help the way his cock throbs against your walls from seeing your pure, doll-eyes well up with tears of pleasure and pain, “just a few more inches love, you can take it,”

TOJI 🖤

The second he finds out you’re a virgin he’s stuck to you like fucking glue. Thankfully, he’s a patient man, and you’ve seemed to peak his interest for something more than just a quick fuck.

He doesn’t exactly know why he feels the need to be the one to fuck you first, to make you go crazy on his dick and become an obsessed little pup that just wants to feel good. It has him reeling in his mind about all the truly terrible things he’d love to do to you—to slowly corrupt the very innocence of your being and mold you to his perfect little plaything.

He promised himself to take it nice and easy with you first, not wanting to scare you away from what he has in store for you in the future—but whether or not he sticks with that promise is entirely up to you.

“don’t hurt yerself pup, go down nice n’ slow,” he warns, gripping the plush of your hips as he eyes you cautiously. You nod and smile, sweet eyes feigning innocence as you had absolutely no intention of heeding his warning. He’s been prepping you for hours now to help accommodate your pussy to his cock, but at this point you were starting to get needy for something more—something filling.

You hastily shift your hips up and watch as his rock hard cock shoots up to harshly brush against your folds, causing you to jump from the sudden pleasure. He chuckles, engrossed over how sensitive your untouched body is—makes him wonder how you’d look underneath him, fucked out from sheer overstimulated and covered in his thick, sticky cum.

And while toji’s all up in his perverted, slutty head, planning out all the debauched ways he can ruin your sweet cunt, he realizes how you’ve been trying to shove and force his huge cock into your tiny, tiny, virgin pussy. He grips your hips tightly, halting all movement so he can properly scold you, “what did I say? ya do that shit again and I promise yer gonna regret not listenin’,”

You shrink under his stern gaze, avoiding his eyes as he eases his grip on you to caress up and down your sides. He knows you just wanna feel good, wanna have that pussy filled to the brim with his cock, but you gotta be patient. You don’t wanna hurt that pretty princess pussy of yours now, do you?

Seems like you didn’t really mind it tho with the way you quickly revert back to your usual impatient self, either too prideful to listen or too confident in your tolerance. You just wouldn’t stop squirming out of his grasp, desperate to grind your bare cunt along his thick shaft. Your slick glosses up toji’s cock, allowing his throbbing tip to nudge against your sensitive bud, eliciting a delicious whine from you that’s got him internally groaning. ‘She’s gonna be the death of me,’ he thinks to himself, letting you rub your little clit onto his tip.

He won’t deny it, he’s groaning like an absolute whore for you now, hypnotized by the way you sway your hips—utterly tantalizing. It’s like your hips are calling out to him, beckoning him to grip and bruise them, yet every time he tries to sneak a touch you’re quick to smack his hand or dodge his grasp. And he, knowing it’s your first time, tries to mask his frustration as best as he can. He’s warned you once—twice—maybe even three times to go slow, to not tempt the beast, and the sheer fact that he’s letting you tease him like this is making him lose. his. fucking. mind.

So fuck it.

He grabs your hips, flipping the both of you over to pin you down into a nasty mating press where he corners and pushes his cock into you, spitting on your pussy and rubbing your clit amidst the chaos of it all. You yelp, the sudden intrusion giving you whiplash, and you can feel your pussy clench and gush from how he’s been tossin’ you around. Toji lets out a deafening moan, unable to hold back just how good your tight little pussy feels around the fat tip of his cock—he can’t fucking wait to fill you up with the rest of his shaft and stuff you full of his cum, “fuuuckkk—such a fuckin’ tease for holdin this pussy back from me. gonna let me have my way with her now huh, pup?”

SUKUNA 🖤

He knew the second you stepped into his life that you were a virgin, but what he didn’t know was how you had never experienced any form of romantic intimacy, ever. A blank canvas for him to mold and tweak however he may so please—you poor soul.

Whenever an opportunity arrives to show you something new about your unexplored body he seizes it. Teaching your pure little mind and heart about the nastiest, most depraved desires that humans can experience ignites a fire in his core that ravages his body. At this state, he really couldn’t control himself even if he wanted to—helpless to his own demonic desires.

But you’re such a good girl for him—so eager to learn and please. Sometimes he wonders if this little game of cat and mouse is just a ruse for you to make him fall under your spell and become enamored with you and only you. It’s pointless tho, considering how he was already obsessed with you before you even knew it.

“s-sukuna…I-I dunno if I can handle somethin’ so…big,” you mumbled, hesitancy written all over your face as you watch him pump his monstrous cock. He snickers, already knowing damn well that he’s not gonna fit inside you—but he’ll make it work.

“oh, you’ll take my cock nicely, I’ll make sure of that, little one,” he says, eager to slip inside your virgin cunt and finally take what he’s yearned so longingly for, to take and breed you as undeniably his.

You shiver and shake, feeling your slick slide down your plump ass as he teases your tight hole with his fat tip. He doesn’t push it in just yet—despite your incessant pleas for more—he just feels too much resistance for his liking; while he is a curse, he’s not a monster.

“Shhh, little one, be good for me,” he warns, stuffing his index finger in your mouth to muffle your whining. He can’t deny how tempting it would be to just thrust his entire cock into you, feel your virgin cunt spasm uncontrollably around the entirety of his length until you squirt and spray all over him—but he doesn’t want the fun to end too soon.

“Can you feel me stretchin’ your tight pussy with my tip? Can you feel her open up fr’ me?” he slurs, absolutely pussy drunk from slowly sinking his thick, fat cock into your warm, plush walls. He can feel your princess pussy start to give in to him, slowly accepting defeat and submitting to his demanding cock. Smirking, he moves the hand that’s fingers are stuffed down your throat to where the two of you are connected, making sure to press and rub your pretty bud that was just begging for attention.

And as it is well known in the laws of physics: “for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction”—he just didn’t expect this to be the reaction.

“Good…such a good girl,” he pants, shocked by just how quick it was for you to cum—let alone squirt—around his cock.

But what he was most shocked about was how he couldn’t control his own impending orgasm—inadvertently painting your walls white upon seeing you squirt. The way your virgin cunt deliciously clamped around the head of his cock made it impossible for him to stave off his orgasm.

Looks like you ended up being too much for the King of Curses to handle.

✧༺♥༻✧ ✧༺♥༻✧ ✧༺♥༻✧

a/n: hi hi hi luvssss <3, and happy new year!! I hope 2024 brings y’all so much happiness and joy!! also…I wanna get to know you guys 🥺!! pls don’t feel afraid to send in an ask or message (I don’t bite…hard hehehe)

Likes, comments, follows, reblogs, and any other form of interaction is greatly appreciated <3 #supportcreators

navi <3

[richincolor]

Crystal's Favorite 2023 Books

This year there were a lot of excellent books that came my way. Here are the ones that were the most memorable and are the most likely to be re-reads in the future.

Rez Ball by Byron Graves Heartdrum [My Review]

These days, Tre Brun is happiest when he is playing basketball on the Red Lake Reservation high school team—even though he can’t help but be constantly gut-punched with memories of his big brother, Jaxon, who died in an accident.

When Jaxon’s former teammates on the varsity team offer to take Tre under their wing, he sees this as his shot to represent his Ojibwe rez all the way to their first state championship. This is the first step toward his dream of playing in the NBA, no matter how much the odds are stacked against him.

But stepping into his brother’s shoes as a star player means that Tre can’t mess up. Not on the court, not at school, and not with his new friend, gamer Khiana, who he is definitely not falling in love with.

After decades of rez teams almost making it, Tre needs to take his team to state. Because if he can live up to Jaxon’s dreams, their story isn’t over yet.

Warrior Girl Unearthed by Angeline Boulley Henry Holt and Company [My Review]

Perry Firekeeper-Birch has always known who she is – the laidback twin, the troublemaker, the best fisher on Sugar Island. Her aspirations won’t ever take her far from home, and she wouldn’t have it any other way. But as the rising number of missing Indigenous women starts circling closer to home, as her family becomes embroiled in a high-profile murder investigation, and as greedy grave robbers seek to profit off of what belongs to her Anishinaabe tribe, Perry begins to question everything.

In order to reclaim this inheritance for her people, Perry has no choice but to take matters into her own hands. She can only count on her friends and allies, including her overachieving twin and a charming new boy in town with unwavering morals. Old rivalries, sister secrets, and botched heists cannot – will not – stop her from uncovering the mystery before the ancestors and missing women are lost forever.

Sometimes, the truth shouldn’t stay buried.

Gloria Buenrostro is Not My Girlfriend by Brandon Hoàng Farrar, Straus and Giroux (BYR) [My Review]

Gary Võ is one of the few Vietnamese kids in his school and has been shy for as long as he can remember—being ignored and excluded by his classmates comes with the territory. So when the most popular guy in his grade offers Gary the opportunity to break into his inner circle, Gary jumps at the chance. All he needs to do is steal the prized possession of the most beautiful and untouchable girl they know—Gloria Buenrostro.

But as Gary gets to know Gloria, he’s taken in by her authenticity and genuine interest in who he really is. Soon, they’re best friends. Being part of the “in crowd” has always been Gary’s dream, but as he comes closer to achieving infamy, he risks losing the first person who recognizes his true self. Gary must consider if any amount of popularity is worth losing a true friend.

Throwback by Maurene Goo Zando Young Readers [My Review]

Back to the Future meets The Joy Luck Club in this YA contemporary romance about a Korean American girl sent back to the ’90s to (reluctantly) help her teenage mom win Homecoming Queen.

Being a first-generation Asian American immigrant is hard. You know what’s harder? Being the daughter of one. Samantha Kang has never gotten along with her mother, Priscilla—and has never understood her bougie-nightmare, John Hughes high school expectations. After a huge fight between them, Sam is desperate to move forward—but instead, finds herself thrown back. Way back.

To her shock, Sam finds herself back in high school . . . in the ’90s . . . with a 17-year-old Priscilla. Now this Gen Z girl must try to fit into an analog world. She’s got the fashion down, but everything else is baffling. What is “microfiche”? What’s with the casual racism and misogyny? And why does it feel like Priscilla is someone she could actually be . . . friends with?

Sam’s blast to the past has her finding the right romance in the wrong time while questioning everything she thought she knew about her mom . . . and herself. Will Sam figure out what she needs to do to fix things for her mom so that she can go back to a time she understands? Brimming with heart and humor, Maurene Goo’s time-travel romance asks big questions about what exactly one inherits and loses in the immigrant experience.

Reggie & Delilah by Elise Bryant Harper Collins [My Review]

Delilah always keeps her messy, gooey insides hidden behind a wall of shrugs and yeah, whatevers. She goes with the flow—which is how she ends up singing in her friends’ punk band as a favor, even though she’d prefer to hide at the merch table.

Reggie is a D&D Dungeon Master and self-declared Blerd. He spends his free time leading quests and writing essays critiquing the game under a pseudonym, keeping it all under wraps from his disapproving family.

These two, who have practically nothing in common, meet for the first time on New Year’s Eve. And then again on Valentine’s Day. And then again on St. Patrick’s Day. It’s almost like the universe is pushing them together for a reason.

Delilah wishes she were more like Reggie—open about what she likes and who she is, even if it’s not cool. Except . . . it’s all a front. Reggie is just role-playing someone confident. The kind of guy who could be with a girl like Delilah.

As their holiday meetings continue, the two begin to fall for each other. But what happens once they realize they’ve each fallen for a version of the other that doesn’t really exist?

[blackchildrensbooksandauthors]

✍🏿Debut You 2023

Meet Charnelle Pinkney Barlow, author of Little Rosetta and the Talking Guitar: The Musical Story of Sister Rosetta Tharpe, the Woman Who Invented Rock and Roll

Little Rosetta and the Talking Guitar is an imagining of what it might have been like as young Sister Rosetta learned the acoustic guitar. She listens to the sounds around her community and draws inspiration from them. Along the way, we see that Little Rosetta overcomes struggles during the learning process.

Read more from Charnelle Pinkney Barlow HERE

📖Little Rosetta and the Talking Guitar: The Musical Story of Sister Rosetta Tharpe, the Woman Who Invented Rock and Roll

Charnelle Pinkney Barlow

Doubleday BYR

February 28, 2023

Picture Book

Ages: 3+

Pages: 40

Available for pre-order👉🏿Amazon | Bookshop 

[ash-and-books]

Rating: 3/5

Book Blurb:

A missing sister. A mysterious boy. And a painting that holds the truth beneath its peeling edge...

Inez is missing, but missing things can always be found.

Mae knows this as a fact, even though the police investigation has come to a standstill, even though her parents are moving on. But when she goes to clear out her older sister’s studio, she finds a mess of research and a white canvas that seems even older than the ornate frame it is set in. The closer Mae gets to the canvas, the more difficult it is to pull her eyes away from its mottled surface, its heavy layers of white paint, its peeling top corner she is tempted to pull to see what’s beneath. But she doesn’t. Not yet.

Mae decides to trace her sister’s last steps in the hopes of finding answers, certain that Inez’s disappearance is related to the painting. And she knows she is desperate enough to let the strange boy who claims to have been Inez’s neighbor tag along. Even if his good looks don't help distract from his avoidance of her questions. So begins a scavenger hunt piecing together what they can find from what Inez left behind. One that leads to centuries-old questions best left unasked and secrets best kept in the dark.

From the author of A Guide to the Dark comes another romantic and eerie mystery about the lengths we are willing to go for the truth and the ones we love.

Review:

A missing sister, a boy with secrets, and a painting that is much more sinister than it seems. A touch of Dorian Gray and a modern day mystery, one girl will do anything to find her sister and her only lead is the mysterious neighbor who has keys to her sister's apartment and whose's smile is just as intriguing as his secrets. Yet when the secrets reveal themselves, Mae will find herself way in over her head and finding her sister might prove to be impossible. This modern day spin on Dorian Gray was definitely an interesting read and I think young adult readers will have fun with it. The twist was interesting enough and I do think it definitely is a fun read for anyone who loves the classic story but wants a new twist for a modern day.

Release Date: July 16,2024

Publication/Blog: Ash and Books (ash-and-books.tumblr.com)

*Thanks Netgalley and Macmillan Children's Publishing Group | Henry Holt and Co. (BYR) for sending me an arc in exchange for an honest review*