#stolen starling

[el-wumps-sometimes]

Chrumblr Day 3: Carrying

(Characters are my OCs from a project I share with my partner. This is a rescue scene.)

Ghost held his baby boy close to his chest. Not baby, he reminded himself. But looking down at his son, all he could think of was the first time he had seen him, held him in his arms. He was tiny then, too thin, too weak. How was it that Mobius seemed so much smaller now, eight years later? He stumbled as his foot caught a root, almost losing his grip on Mobius. He clutched him tighter to his chest, expecting to hear something, some sort of noise as he was jostled roughly in Ghost’s attempt to keep him close, but there was nothing. Mobius kept staring into space, head resting against Ghost’s shoulder, arms tucked in close to his body. The branches hit painfully against Ghost’s bare back as the group of them ran from the house, from the soldiers that would be arriving back to investigate Vy’s gunshots. He gritted his teeth and tried to keep his eyes on Pari-Zarali as she led them through the forest, watching the blur of motion that she had turned into instead of looking down at his son. As much as he wanted to just stop and hold him—sixty days, it had been sixty days—they couldn’t afford to stop until they were out of danger. He got into a rhythm as he got used to running on the uneven ground. One foot up. Lift. Over an obstacle. Push. Don’t look at Mobius. Other foot up. Lift. Push. Eyes ahead, hold him close. Repeating a count, almost hypnotic, as he ran. Pari-Zarali slowed once she judged that they were far enough, and Ghost broke his rhythm to look down at Mobius. His eyes were closed. Ghost could see a red, healing scar across his cheek, and knew if he took the time to look at where his son had been bleeding before they had started running, he would see a different kind of scar. Smooth, pale, uncanny, unnatural even, compared to scars that healed naturally. Ghost tried to stop thinking about that. He had seen those scars all over his son’s body when he had been putting his shirt over him. He didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t want to think of how he’d failed—sixty days—and what they had been doing to him. He rearranged Mobius so he was settled more comfortably against his chest. Despite how light he was, Ghost’s arms were getting tired. He knew Vy was looking at him—the angle of her head, the desperation—but he didn’t want to hand over their son just yet. “It’s ok,” he whispered quietly into Mobius’s hair. “You’re gonna be ok.” Mobius’s eyelids flickered, and for a moment, Ghost expected him to wake up, look up, and answer, to break this silent not-sleep and cry, scream, anything but this unresponsive limpness. He kept walking until they stopped, and Vy took him. Her turn to carry their baby boy. Ghost’s arms were sore, heavy, but his heart was heavier. He had thought they would have their boy back once they found him. Now, he wasn’t so sure that they did.

[missmolsa]

Some girlies <33

[ziggystarling]

Spot the difference

[chosok-amo]

SLIPPING THROUGH MY FINGERS: GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU

“suguru, help!” he sounds, pathetic. gojo satoru is a pathetic man when it comes to you. “ . . . there are so many kisses to have, soul and bone for you to crash and swear that how stars are born, so please. . ., believe me, you have to believe me,” he cries, holding your hands, begging for you to love him— love him enough to stay.

warning : age-up! satosugu, depressed! fem x reader, drug mention, trauma mention, suicide, self-harm, death mention, drowning, blood, heavy angst.

w/c : 6,2k | [☆] MASTERLIST

𝜗𝜚 . . . . i had to stop so often writing this because i can't stop crying and think that i shouldn't continue because it hurts me so bad that i have to take a cold shower and think about my life. and honestly, i wasn't supposed to write the last part but yeah..

A MINUTES AFTER YOU TRY TO KILL YOURSELF

it was too quiet. . .

gojo satoru never screams so loud in his entire life, so loud. . . the world shaking beneath his feet, ready to swallow him whole and rotten. so loud . . . he sure he can no longer hear. he ran, slipping on his way until he broke his knee on the puddle of the red, transparent liquid that spill from the bath-up.

the starling sigh, you were there. . .

“no, no, no, baby— no.”

the water, tinged with a haunting crimson, surged and overflowed, cascading into the bathroom with relentless force. it climbed steadily up gojo's legs, as if the liquid itself sought to ensnare him, to drag him down into its suffocating embrace, or just. . . mock him.

a dark mockery that seemed to whisper that it alone held the power to drown him, to swallow your trembling breaths and the last echoes of your voice. it wasn’t him, or geto suguru who was to be your executioner, but the merciless water, eager to claim your final, stutter breath.

“i-i —sorry, i’m sorry..” you stammered.

your voice stammered between choke, barely a murmur beneath the frothy waves, struggled to be heard amidst the tumult. your eyes, devoid of warmth, reflected a chilling detachment. the coldness in your gaze was almost tangible, a stark contrast to the chaotic, drowning world around you.

“suguru, help!” he sounds, pathetic.

gojo, even on the verge of your death is still so gentle, as if he's afraid you are going to die than you already are. dropping on his knees as he tries to pull your warm bodies out of the bath-up.

gojo shook his head, a soft whisper escaping from his trembling lips, “shhh, it's alright baby, it's alright, you're alright,” his mumble, each word a fragile promise against the storm of his own emotions— words and voice shaking, his bones and soul shivering. his strong arm wraps around your body, pulling you closer to his chest, feeling everything, even as his flesh trembling.

tears cascaded from the corner of your eyes, tracing silken paths down your skin, while his embrace, though trembling, sought to cradle and calm you, a sanctuary against the turbulence of your anguish.

“suguru, please help!” again, this time he shouted.

geto runs upon hearing the horror howling, and his purple irises about to peel from his face and his lungs lose air— ragged gasps, as if each inhale were stolen from him. the scene before him struck with a painful clarity: you nestled within gojo’s embrace, your body wracked with distress.

foaming at the mouth, you appeared trapped in a tormenting grip of anguish, while the open scars on your wrist bled stories of suffering and desperation. in that moment, the sight was both heart-wrenching and surreal, a vivid tableau of fear and pain, painted across the canvas of his deepest fears.

“i'm sorry— i-i'm so sorry,” you whisper between choking gasps as geto kneels beside you and your body shaking. tears cascade uncontrollably, each dropping a shimmering testament to a sudden, overwhelming regret. it is as though a profound realization has swept over you, too late to mend the wounds that have been inflicted.

the regret feels like a bitter aftertaste of the sorrow you can no longer escape. the eyes of those around you, trembling with the weight of their own anguish, are bloodshot and haunting, mirroring the crimson that flows from your wrist. in that agonizing moment, the world feels irrevocably broken, and the fleeting desire to be alive seems like a distant, unreachable dream.

they burst from the bathroom, gojo's arms wrapped tightly around you as he dashes through the chaos. your lifeless feet and hands dangle, a heavy, haunting reminder of the blood seeping steadily onto the floor. each drop forms a macabre trail, like the relentless shadow of death that clings to you, a grim companion refusing to let go.

the crimson stains splatter and pool in your wake, an anguished testament to the finality that now seems inevitable— each red stain on the ground is a haunting reminder, a stark declaration. as they run, the blood's mournful descent weaves a sorrowful narrative of moments slipping away, each drop a poignant echo of what might have been, a stark and unyielding declaration that time has run out, that it is too late.

and suddenly, everything feels like a slow motion.

6 HOUR AFTER YOU TRY TO KILL YOURSELF

the doctor spoke with a grave tone, his words laced with concern. “it appears,” he began, looking at gojo who's just sitting there with his eyes focusing on the floor, meanwhile geto standing beside him. “that she intentionally tried to overdose. we've had to act swiftly to pump the substances from her body, working to counteract the severe effects of her actions.”

geto's hand gently gripping on gojo's shoulder as they listen. his expression was one of solemn seriousness, reflecting the urgency and gravity of the situation. “we've done everything we can to stabilize her, but it's crucial that you two understand the seriousness of what she has done. this was a life-threatening situation, and we're only beginning to address the underlying issues that led to this crisis.”

the doctor continued, his voice carrying a mix of relief and concern. “fortunately, the cut on her wrist wasn't too deep,” he said, his eyes scanning the notes before them. “it seems that the severity of the injury was somewhat mitigated by her weakened state from the drugs. if she had been stronger, the outcome might have been different.”

his tone softened, acknowledging the fragile balance between the danger of the overdose and the mitigating effects of your physical condition. “we've managed to address the immediate threats, but it's crucial to understand that this is a serious wake-up call. we need to work on her recovery and the emotional struggles that led to this moment.”

if she had been stronger, the outcome might have been different,’ the words echoed repeatedly, hauntingly through the air, like a broken record stuck on a painful refrain. once, twice, three times, they reverberated through their minds, each repetition a stark reminder of how close they came to losing you, how dangerously close the edge of despair was.

even the notion of ‘almost’ carried a weight too immense to bear, a heavy presence that pressed down on their hearts. the silence that followed was thick with unspoken guilt and anguish; none of them could find the words to bridge the chasm of their shared grief. they avoided each other's gaze, unable to escape the silent blame that hung heavy between them, a suffocating testament to their collective sense of failure.

gojo stared at his hands through the thin veil of his blindfold, his fingers trembling as they traced the dried blood staining his pale skin. the sight of it was a brutal reminder of you. with a strained effort, he clenched his hands tightly, hoping to meld the dried blood with his own, as if to erase the haunting evidence of what had transpired— his last hope trying to be with you.

each breath felt like a desperate gasp, a small gap forming between his lips as he struggled to draw in air. the sensation of suffocation gripped him, a relentless pressure squeezing his chest, making each inhale a battle. despite his efforts, the air seemed insufficient, leaving him feeling as though he were on the precipice of life, teetering on the brink of an abyss that threatened to swallow him whole.

geto felt an overwhelming tide of guilt and anguish, a heavy weight pressing down on his heart. the scene that unfolded before him replayed in his mind like a relentless, agonizing loop, hunting him down like he is some kind of a fucking prey. he was haunted by the sight of your suffering, the image of your blood-streaked hands and the anguished cries that pierced the air. each moment of his own reflection, seeing the remnants of your blood on his skin and his white shirt, deepened his torment.

the sense of responsibility gnawed at him, a constant reminder of how close he came to losing you. he felt suffocated by a profound sorrow and helplessness, as if the very air around him was too thick, leaving him gasping for breath— like the death itself pointing its ugly fucking finger to his face and laugh at him, at them.

what a fucking pathetic man’ the death must be said.

the weight of the situation settled heavily on his shoulders, and the silence between him and his companions only amplified his inner turmoil. the unspoken blame and the aching realization that he couldn't undo what had happened created a chasm of despair within him, making each moment feel like an eternity of unbearable remorse.

both of them are buried in profound sea of grief, guilt, shame because a thousand moments with you that they take for granted— shame, for thinking, assume that there would be a thousand more. is it too selfish to be here?’ they thought.

that curse must be laughing at them, the higher-ups, everyone— pointing their finger from all directions. look at them, ’ they thought, those two who called themselves the strongest can even save a single soul,’ again they must be laughing, let alone a soul who is to be called the love of their life.

but nobody knows, none, not even a single soul that, oh, how your presence evokes such selflessness in them— even amid their silent, tormented reflections. they are consumed by an incessant questioning of the selfishness of their own sorrow, wondering if it is wrong to cling to their grief while you teeter on the precipice of loss.

the haunting thought persists, a cruel reminder of time's fragile nature and the profound depth of their remorse. in their heartache, they are acutely aware of the contrast between their own suffering and the delicate balance of your existence, each moment of their anguish a poignant testament to the sorrow they feel for having taken so much for granted.

is it okay to feel sad? ’ they thought.

even the very sensation of sadness and grief feels like an indulgence they do not deserve. i can't even protect her, what rights do i fucking deserve to be sad?’ they thought. to them, these emotions seem an opulent luxury, an extravagant gift they are not entitled to. in their hearts, the depth of their sorrow feels almost excessive, a poignant reminder of how their suffering pales in comparison to the magnitude of the almost loss they face.

each wave of grief feels like a grand, unwelcome opulence, an unjust reward for the pain they have caused and the moments they have squandered. the luxury of their sadness seems a cruel irony, a stark contrast to the profound emptiness of the reality they must now confront.

people passing by in front of them, throwing them a glance or two. seeing their red eyes and tears-stain cheeks, blood in their hands, in shirts, in pants, in their soul, laid bare. everyone wants to give them both a pat on the back, telling them that they are good at handling grief; howling, crying, and blaming each other. that's the proper way to handle grief.

18 HOUR AFTER YOU TRY TO KILL YOURSELF

your hands are warm, a stark contrast to the pallor of your pink lips, which have lost their vibrant hue, your eyes open still so retain their gentle softness, a quiet testament to the grace you still hold.

as you lie upon the hospital bed, draped in the drab, floral-patterned gown that clings to you, it feels woefully inadequate. the gown, mundane and worn, seems too insipid and shabby to encompass your beauty, too faded and forlorn.

“i'm sorry. . .” you mumble.

you can’t bring yourself to look at them as they sit beside your bed, their eyes red and swollen from sleepless nights, their uniforms crumpled and disheveled, their hair falling in untamed disarray. their faces have lost their vibrant hue, a stark contrast to their usual vitality.

gojo satoru’s once-brilliant blue eyes, which used to shimmer with an unyielding light, now seem dull and lifeless, even when the golden sunlight spills over them. the sunlight, which once might have enhanced the beauty of his gaze with its warm orange tones, now only serves to highlight the emptiness that has replaced his once-sparkling eyes— it's dull, it's dull, it is fucking dull.

geto suguru's strikingly handsome face is graced with a smile, tender and achingly gentle, as though he is pouring all his effort into offering you a sliver of solace. his lips tremble with a subtle quiver, betraying the deep sadness that lingers beneath his calm exterior. his once-vibrant purple irises have dimmed, their former brilliance faded to a shadow of their former selves.

you fear that they might darken further, losing their hue altogether, slipping into a void of despair where even color seems to vanish. the sight of his sorrowful eyes, so devoid of their usual spark, reflects a profound sadness that pierces the heart, a silent testament to the emotional toll of the moment.

oh, what i have done. . .’ you thought.

“don't, please don't,” gojo pleads, his voice trembling as he clasps your unharmed hand with a desperate grip. his blindfold has been removed, revealing eyes that are filled with raw, unfiltered emotion as he gazes at you. beside him, geto's hand rests gently at the back of your head, his touch tender and soothing. he caresses your hair with a featherlight motion, his thumb brushing softly over your scalp.

“we are so sorry for taking you for granted,” he murmurs, the words heavy with regret and sorrow. “we are sorry for offering you only a lukewarm love, when you deserved a love that was fierce and all-consuming, a love that burned brightly and fiercely. i'm sorry,” his voice wavers, each word an echo of their deep remorse, as they both grapple with the weight of their unspoken apologies and the profound realization of what they failed to give you.

they do not seek to question why your soul bleeds, nor do they dare to unravel the dark tapestry of your pain. the blood, flowing with a steady, silent, and disturbingly deliberate pace, engulfs you in its relentless embrace. it seeps into every corner of your being, a somber tide that threatens to consume you entirely.

they find themselves unable to confront this harrowing reality, their hearts too burdened to bear the weight of such a painful inquiry. the sight of your suffering leaves them paralyzed, unable to utter the questions that linger in their minds, as they grapple with the profound helplessness of watching you slowly succumb to the encroaching shadows.

“i love you, baby,” gojo whispers, “i'm sorry that you're in so much pain so to think death is the only salvation,” he stopped for a second, cocooning your hand with his large one before resting his cheek against. “i'm sorry i didn't notice your rage for the world and too busy loving you. does my love scare you, love? that's why you decided to leave, hm?” his voice shaking, lips quivering.

“if you are angry, stab me a little so you can feel better, make it hurt, i don't care. a little suffering would be worth it if it's by your hands, by your pretty little hands,” he murmured against your skin, his breath a warm whisper that sent shivers across your body. each word was a soft plea, wrapped in a tone that trembled with both desperation and tenderness.

his trembling lips pressed gently against your hand, each kissing a fleeting starburst of warmth against your cool skin. him— no they, stood ready to endure your pain, inviting you to inflict upon them the hurt you felt.

they stand poised to let you sink your teeth into them, to delve into their very flesh. to let you open them up, laid bare and vulnerable, just to offer you a chance to heal. just so they can love you a little too much, starving even— like a flesh begging to be knitting together over a wound. ruin me, ruin us, and we will let you.

“i love you, i love you, i love you,” he gave you stars in each between. they fucking love you like a rotten dog. “believe me when i said this. . . there are so many kisses to have, soul and bone for you to crash and swear that how stars are born, so please. . ., believe me, you have to believe me,” he cries, holding your hands, begging for you to love him— love him enough to stay, “we love you.”

he finally said we’ geto thought.

at first glance, people might assume that geto suguru’s love for you surpasses that of gojo satoru, that his love is somehow greater. yet, the truth remains that it has always been gojo satoru who harbors the most profound and boundless love for you from the very beginning. his love is vast, immense, and utterly astonishing, stretching beyond the horizons of understanding.

gojo’s devotion is a vast expanse, a love so deep and wide that it seems to defy the very limits of emotion. even geto suguru, who himself is capable of immense love, finds himself awestruck and somewhat intimidated by the sheer magnitude of gojo’s feelings. no one can truly grasp the depth of gojo’s love—not even gojo himself—such is the overwhelming, almost incomprehensible nature of his heart’s boundless devotion to you.

and sometimes it scares the shit out of geto.

but maybe, just maybe, they have a little too much love for you more than for each other, even more than for themselves— as if you make a space in their ribs, and call it home country.

30 HOUR AFTER YOU TRY TO KILL YOURSELF

geto stirred from a restless sleep, his head resting gently against your hospital bed, nestled close to your side. as he slowly opened his eyes, he was met with the soft, gentle sight of you gazing at him, a faint, tender smile gracing your lips. the serene moment, bathed in the quiet of the hospital room, brought a flicker of warmth to his weary heart, a small but profound comfort amid the lingering shadows of their shared sorrow.

“hey sunshine,” geto whispered in a hoarse croak, reaching a hand to brush your hair away from your face, “how long have you been awake?”

“long enough to notice the dark circles under your eyes and the tear stains on your cheeks,” you replied softly, your fingers brushing gently against his cheek, your thumb tenderly caressing the worn skin. geto hummed, his hand capturing yours and guiding your palm to his lips, where he planted a gentle kiss.

the touch of your skin was like a salve, soothing the ache in his weary soul. he chuckled weakly. his eyes were tired and his skin pale, but your touch made him feel alive. “you’re too observant for your own good,” he teased, his lips curving into a weary smile.

geto shifted in his chair, wincing slightly as his body protested the movement. he settled into a more comfortable position, still holding your hand in his, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of your knuckles.

he studied your face, taking in every detail, from the delicate flutter of your eyelashes to the subtle flush in your cheeks. the sight of you, even in this vulnerable state, filled his heart with a mixture of tenderness and protectiveness.

“how are you feeling?” he asked, his voice low and gentle, his gaze fixed on your face. he knew it was a question he had asked before, but he couldn’t help himself. he needed to hear you speak, hear your voice, just to reassure himself that you were still with him.

“like shit,” you answer.

your hand is still gently cupping his cheek, thumb running low across his skin in a loving manner. at your blunt response, geto's lip curled into a soft smile. even in your weakened state, you still had a defiant spark.

he leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly as he savored the sensation. “i thought we agreed no profanity,” he teased, his voice laced with affectionate humor, opening his eyes to meet your gaze. he turned his head slightly, his lips brushing against the palm of your hand in a tender kiss.

“you’ve always been a bad influence on me,” he murmured against your skin, his breath warm and ticklish. he chuckled softly, his eyes softening as he studied your face.

he took a moment to compose his words, his expression growing serious. “there was a moment,” he began, his voice a hoarse whisper, “a moment when i thought i lost you.”

your smile faltered, and your eyes softened with concern as you listened to the gravity in his voice. you reached up to gently touch his cheek again, your thumb brushing away the remnants of his sadness.

“i’m here now,” you whispered, your voice steady but filled with warmth. “you haven’t lost me.” you looked deeply into his eyes, trying to convey with your gaze the depth of your presence and the promise of your unwavering support. “and i’m not going anywhere,” you added softly, hoping to soothe the lingering fear in his heart.

his hand covers yours, holding it against his cheek as he closes his eyes, relishing in your soothing touch. for a moment, he just allows himself to bask in your presence, letting the warmth and comfort wash over him.

“i was afraid i wouldn’t get to hear you say that,” he murmured, his voice growing thicker with emotion. he opened his eyes, the raw vulnerability in his gaze bared to you, his heart laid bare.

your heart ached at the sight of his vulnerability. you gently squeezed his hand, your voice trembling with sincerity as you spoke. “i’m so sorry,” you said softly, your eyes filled with compassion.

geto’s thumb traced gentle, small circles on the back of your hand. “you have nothing to apologize for,” he assured you, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. “it was my responsibility to keep you safe, and i failed.”

the guilt and regret in his voice were palpable, the weight of his self-imposed responsibility clear. he lowered his gaze, wrestling with emotions that were etched deeply into every line of his weary face.

he lifted your hand from his cheek, bringing it to his lips and pressing a lingering kiss against your knuckles, his gaze never leaving yours. “i just need you to know how much you mean to me,” he added, his voice cracking slightly. his grip on your hand tightened, as if he was holding onto you for dear life.

geto’s lips continued to brush against your knuckles as he spoke, soft and gentle. his eyes held yours captive, the depth of his affection bared for you to see.

“you are my everything,” he confessed, his voice hoarse with the weight of his honesty. “the thought of losing you, of living in a world where you don’t exist…” he trailed off, a pained expression crossing his features. he was torn between the love that engulfed his heart and the fear that threatened to consume him.

geto drew in a shaky breath, composing himself as best he could. he lifted his gaze from your hand, meeting your eyes once again. his expression held a mixture of love and devotion, but also a hint of desperation.

“i need you to know that no matter what, i will do everything in my power to protect you,” he vowed, his voice steady despite the turbulent emotions raging within him. “not just because it’s my duty, but because i love you more than i thought it was possible to love someone.”

you met his gaze with a warm, reassuring smile, the depth of your gratitude shining through. “thank you,” you said softly, your voice imbued with genuine appreciation. your smile was a reflection of the profound comfort and reassurance you felt, a silent promise to stand together through whatever lay ahead.

geto’s eyes softened at your smile, a flicker of relief passing over his weary face. he squeezed your hand gently, his touch both appreciative and protective.

he studied your face for a moment, his gaze lingering on each contour, each freckle and line, as if to further commit them to memory. “don’t scare me like that again,” he murmured, mostly in jest, but with an underlying current of seriousness.

gojo entered the room, his expression a mix of relief and lingering concern as he carried a bag of your belongings. upon seeing the tender moment between you and geto, his eyes softened, though they carried a hint of the exhaustion and worry that had shadowed him. he set the bag down and approached, took a sit at the edge on the other side of your bed, his voice catching slightly as he spoke.

“don’t scare me like that again too,” he said, his tone gentle but tinged with the weight of his emotions. his gaze met yours with a blend of earnestness and relief. “i know suguru’s been holding on tight, but i’ve been right here, too. seeing you like this... it’s been hard on all of us. please, don't leave us.” his words were a heartfelt plea, an echo of the concern and love he carried for you, a testament to the depth of his feelings and the strength of his devotion.

geto’s grip on your hand tightened momentarily at the sound of gojo’s voice, his eyes darting towards his best friend. he could hear the exhaustion and worry that laced gojo’s words and knew all-too-well the weight of the responsibility they shared.

he turned his gaze back to you, his expression a mix of worry and relief. his thumb resumed its gentle, soothing circles on the back of your hand. “yeah,” he said in agreement, his voice gruff with emotion. “please, don’t scare us like that again.”

gojo’s presence brought with it a sense of familiarity, a comfort that was both grounding and reassuring. he reached out and placed a gentle hand on your arm, his touch a silent expression of his affection and concern.

he studied your face, his eyes tracing every contour, every line, as if to commit the sight to memory. “how are you feeling?” he asked, his voice softer now, though still tinged with worry. “i wanna say like shit but suguru said no profanity,” you puff a little chuckle.

geto gives a little scoff at your comment, his expression laced with a mixture of annoyance and affection. he rolls his eyes playfully and mutters, “you’re such a bad influence.”

gojo’s lips curled into a small smirk before he turned his gaze back to you, the lines around his eyes creasing with a mix of amusement and relief. “can’t have you talking like that,” he teased, his words light but carrying a hint of genuine concern.

gojo studying your face carefully before speaking ever so softly, “well, apart from the obviously crappy mood geto’s been in, you look good. your color is better.” he noticed a faint crimson crushed on your cheeks, a little pink on your lips.

he reached his hand out to smooth a strand of hair away from your forehead, his touch light and tender. his gaze wandered from your face to where geto still held your hand, his eyes reflecting a subtle hint of appreciation.

geto watched gojo's gentle touch, his grip on your hand unconsciously tightening a little bit in response. his expression was a mixture of protectiveness and vulnerability, his eyes betraying the fear and worry that still tugged at his heart.

he took the moment to observe the soft interplay of emotions between you and gojo, the easy familiarity and the deep bond that existed between you all. he could sense the weight of gojo's concern as he studied your face, the care and attention in his touch.

gojo's voice was soft as he continued, his gaze still fixed on your face. “so, how are you feeling, for real?” he asked, his tone a gentle echo of geto's earlier question. “any pain? any discomfort?”

geto looked at you, his eyes silently pleading for you to be honest. he was hanging off your every word, each response a small insight into your well-being.

you took a deep breath, feeling the weight of their concern pressing down on you. meeting gojo’s gentle gaze and then turning to geto’s silent plea, you spoke with a mixture of remorse and honesty. “i’m sorry,” you began, your voice trembling slightly. “i’m sorry for how i handled things. i know i should have talked to you both, but i didn’t—i tried to take matters into my own hands without thinking it through first.”

your eyes reflected a deep sense of shame and regret as you continued. “i actually feel like absolute shit right now, and i’m ashamed of myself for thinking i could find a quick solution without considering the impact it would have on you both.” you looked at them, hoping your words conveyed the depth of your remorse and the sincerity of your apology, wanting them to understand that your actions were not a reflection of your feelings for them, but rather a moment of misguided desperation.

gojo's expression softened with understanding, his eyes filled with compassion. he knew the weight of your words, the regret and shame that clung to them. he reached his hand back to your arm, his touch gentle and reassuring.

geto's gaze was a mix of surprise and relief as he processed your apology. his hand around yours tightened slightly, his thumb tracing reassuring circles on your skin. “it's okay,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. “we all have moments of weakness. what matters is that you're here, safe and alive.”

you felt a wave of gratitude wash over you at their responses, their understanding and compassion a balm to your wounded spirit. “thank you,” you said softly, your voice thick with emotion. “thank you for not being angry with me and for not questioning me right away. i know i made a terrible mistake, and i’m grateful you’re here, supporting me instead of condemning me.”

geto's grip on your hand tightened slightly, his eyes filled with a complex mixture of emotions— relief, love, and a hint of lingering fear. he shook his head gently, a reassuring smile on his lips.

gojo chuckled softly, his eyes filled with a mixture of compassion and playfulness. “we can save the anger and lecturing for when you’re not looking so terrible,” he joked, a wry smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “and trust me, baby, i had a lot of choice colorful words for you when the right time comes,” he lean in to kiss your forehead, “but right now, we just trying to be here for you.”

geto nodded in agreement, his grip on your hand still tight. he couldn’t help but roll his eyes a bit at gojo's playfulness, but there was a hint of fondness beneath the feigned annoyance.

he leaned in, reaching out with his other hand to gently brush a strand of hair off your forehead. “you are a stubborn, reckless, and stubborn pain in the ass,” he scolded lightly, his tone a soft but affectionate mix.

gojo chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners with humor. he settled himself closer, his hand still resting lightly on your arm. “he's right, you know,” he chimed in, his smile wide. “you're very good at pushing our buttons and getting under our skin.”

geto's lips curled into a small smile, his expression a mixture of feigned anger and affection. “and you're even better at making us worry,” he added, his tone light but underlined with the gravity of their concern. “but we care about you more than anything,” he added, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “so you better not do something like that again, you hear me?” his voice held a hint of authority, but mostly it was filled with love and concern.

geto's smile grew a bit wider, his eyes crinkling endearingly at the corners. “yeah,” he said, his voice firm. “you better listen. we don’t need anymore of these near-death experiences from you.”

gojo chimed in enthusiastically, leaning in a bit closer. “yeah, cause let me tell you, i can’t handle any more gray hairs than i already have.”

geto's grip on your hand tightened again, his expression a mix of sternness and vulnerability. he looked at you intently, his gaze locking with yours. “he's right,” he echoed, his voice firm but filled with warmth and care. “no more reckless decisions. no more putting yourself in danger. you hear us, my love?”

gojo nodded in agreement, his expression serious but eyes softened with concern. he added, “yeah, we can't keep having our hearts in our throats like this. it's not good for our health, you know.” geto's hand caressed your arm gently, a silent plea for your understanding. “we just want you safe and sound. that’s all we ask.”

a hint of vulnerability flashed across geto's face, his expression betraying the weight of his words. he locked eyes with you, his gaze filled with a mixture of pleading and sincerity.

“we just want to know that you're safe,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “that you're not recklessly endangering yourself anymore.”

gojo leaned in closer, his hand resting on your arm lightly. “we can't bear the thought of something happening to you again,” he chimed in, his tone carrying an undercurrent of worry.

they continued to exchange tender words and earnest pleas, their voices overlapping in a chorus of concern and affection. each spoke fervently about their love and the lengths they would go to ensure your safety and happiness. their words, though filled with their own fears and frustrations, were underscored by a deep, unwavering care for you.

as you watched them, a soft smile touched your lips. their earnest devotion, their refusal to let you face this alone, filled you with a profound sense of comfort and gratitude. you could see their love in every gesture and hear it in every word, and it warmed your heart. despite the gravity of the situation, their caring presence made you feel cherished and supported, giving you strength even in the midst of your own turmoil.

after a few moments of their heartfelt declarations, the room fell into a short silence, the weight of their words lingering in the air.

gojo ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of nervous energy. “and just so you know, suguru here basically took a week off work to sit by your bedside like a damn watchdog, he even almost made the rainbow dragon eat gakuganji because that fucker won't let him leave.” geto, caught off guard by the sudden revelation, flushed faintly and shot a glare at gojo.

geto, taken aback, shot a sharp look at gojo before retort, “you clearly about to hollow purple the higher-ups and the entire school because they won't let you stay here with her.” gojo's expression darkened for a moment, “you know i would do it in a heartbeat, if i could.” geto's grip on your hand tightened, his gaze still fixed on gojo. “i know you would. and i'd be right there with you.”

gojo and geto turned their attention back to you when they heard your soft chuckling, their expressions a mix of relief and amusement at hearing you laugh.

gojo chuckled as well, “you find that funny, huh?” he said, a smile tugging at his lips. geto rolled his eyes a bit, but his own smile betrayed his true feelings. he couldn't stay serious when you laughed. “just the thought of us going rogue and taking down the entire school system for you is amusing, i guess,” he said, his tone laced with sarcasm.

you hummed in satisfaction, “they are shit anyway.” a gentle smile lingering on your pale lips.

gojo chuckled warmly, his eyes sparkling at your comment. “ah, and there’s that signature wit of yours coming back.”

geto, still feigning annoyance but struggling to hide a grin, shook his head slightly. “still as blunt and unfiltered as ever,” he said, his eyes soft.

you glances at both of them, the comforting silence lingering between you, and with a tender smile, you mouthed softly, “i love you.” your cheeks flushed a delicate crimson beneath your pale complexion as you kissed their cheek.

gojo and geto exchanged a brief glance at your sweet words and soft kisses, their hearts swelling with warmth and love. gojo's hand reached out to stroke your hair, his touch gentle and loving. “we love you too,” he said softly.

geto's smile widened as he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. “always,” he breathed, his voice filled with tenderness.

the thought of you coming back to them is warm.

TAGLIST :

@junni-berry @fortunatelyfurrygiver @soraya-daydreams @diorzs @dancing--devils @iloveboysinred @bounie1 @nina3871 @ohnotheusernameisbroken

[softspace-fics]

hey I’m sick and I was wondering if you could make one of either Steve Rogers or spiderman (Tom holland) taking care of a sick little

Sickie

Masterlist - All my work!

A/N - I know this is kind of a short one, I had to have dental work done today and I've also just been super busy today and in alot of pain but I hope that this helps you feel even a little bit better. I know you said one or the other, but I had an idea and could include both! Hope you like it!

Warnings⚠️: Sick little, PLATONIC RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN STEVE, PETER AND YOU, mainly fluff!!

---------------

Peter got worried when he heard your little coughs throughout the night. He had the room right next to your room, and had been doing some work on his suit when he first heard it. This meant that he had stayed up the whole night incase you woke up and needed a caregiver.

When you came out as a little, you had first been getting taken care of by Steve, seeing as he was the person who helped you to tell the rest of the team and was the first to find out. Soon after Steve started going on missions again, Peter helped to take care of you. It started more as he was a babysitter, but after a fe years, he’s taken on being a second caregiver.

When Steve got back from his 5am run, he was met by a worried peter sitting on the couch in the living room, waiting for the elder. 

“Steve they’ve been coughing all night. I think I heard them sneeze like 10 times too. I’m worried.” Peter stands up abruptly, almost starling Steve.

Steve looks at Peter concerned before quickly but quietly going over to your room and softly opening the door. He walks over to the edge of your bed before softly feeling your forehead. His eyes widen and he turns around to look at Peter who's standing there awkwardly with his hands in his pockets and anxiety written all over his face.

“They're like a furnace. Can you go get them a damp cloth and some meds? I'm gonna wake them up and see if I can get them into some cooler clothes.” Steve calmly whispers to Peter, who then speeds off to go collect the items requested.

Steve wakes you up gently,kissing your forehead and trying to softly help you out of dreamland. You softly whine, rubbing your eyes until Steve gently takes your hand from your face. 

“Hey sweetheart how're you feeling?” He asks gently.

All he can get out of you is a whine, you curl into him, feeling absolutely awful.

He softly coos before he gently picks you up and helps you to get more comfortable.

Peter comes back in the room a few minutes later with the items that steve sent him on a quest to find, and sees you laying with a thinner blanket stolen from his room, and one of steve's shirt on you. 

The rest of the day is spent with Steve and Peter each taking their time with you, getting you water, meds when you need them, and just ultimately making sure your comfortable and safe. That's the most important thing to them. 

[emeritusemeritus]

hello !! 🌷 i read spellbound and im IN LOVE with the way you write, so could i request a weasley twins x reader as well? if you don't want to write both twins in love with reader, then just fred </3

so the reader is a hufflepuff student who has been close friends with the twins since the first year at hogwarts, to the point of molly inviting her to stay for a few days sometimes. and the twins (or just fred) like reader so much as a best friend— until reader becomes more than that.

something "but you belong to me." with them. like, reader getting asked out and people confessing to her, but the twins are possessive of her; mysteriously, people who confess to reader inevitably get a wave of bad luck (because of the twins' pranks).

a more possessive side of them, you know? house of balloons has been on my mind these days 2!€+2(3 🤕

thank you so much ! i hope you have a lovely day.

Hi lovely, hope you are well!Thank you so much! I hope this is okay for you?!🖤

Warnings: minor sexual references, pranks, mild swearing. Possessive behaviour, slightly dominant twins. Love confessions.

Word count: 2.2k

You're in my world now, you can stay, you can stay

But you belong to me, ooh, you belong to me

Being best friends with both Weasley Twins had many pros and cons, of which you'd considered frequently over the years.

They were funny, charming and kind, kept you on your toes, you never went more than an hour without belly laughing. Your life was abundantly better because they were in it.

On the other hand, you got way more detentions, had to attend quidditch matches that weren't your own house and even if they were you were cheering for the wrong team because you were a Hufflepuff and they were Gryffindor beaters. Their family was far from rich, not that it ever bothered you in the slightest, but from another more shallow persons perspective you could see how that would be a factor.

Most importantly, they seemed to scare all the boys away you ever dared approach you. Like guard dogs they seemed to deter any boy away from you and in turn there was not a single boy good enough for you that you'd even shown interest in as Fred and George were always quick to point out their faults, making your crush disappear soon after.

It wasn't always like that but around your fifth year you seemed to take notice of the rather starling pattern of events that repeatedly kept happening. A boy would show interest in you, flirty looks that lingered and secret stolen smiles, maybe they'd even approach you and ask you to Hogsmeade, but most of them didn't get that far. You'd mention it in passing to the twins, catching them up on your days after having your owl classes spent away from each other and by the next day, all semblance of attraction would be lost. The boy would often not look at you, look fearfully at you or worse, would randomly spout big puss filled boils all over his face.

You were ignorant to it in the beginning, but then you began to take it personally thinking that someone was playing a joke on you, getting the boys to pretend to be attracted only to laugh with their friends behind your back.

"Angel I'm telling you that is definitely not happening," George had said to console you as you cried to them both down by the lake after hours.

"We'd have heard about it wouldn't we," he adds, gesturing between him and Fred who looks on at you with worry in his eyes.

"Yeah," Fred nods, "nobody ever says anything bad about you. You're not the kind of girl that would happen to anyway."

"What to your mean?" You'd asked, sounding more than a little pathetic as you sniffled, wiping your nose on the sleeve of your jumper and then casting a spell to clean it off.

"You're pretty, really pretty," George says, a gentle smile on his face.

"More than pretty, that crap only happens to the ugly girls and you are definitely not ugly," Fred says, throwing himself on the floor beside you.

"Probably just lost his nerve that's all," Fred adds, picking up a rock and trying to skim it across the lake.

After that night you watched the interactions closely, anytime a boy would try and approach you, putting on his best smile. Some were nervous, some where cocky but in the end they all ended up the same way, actively avoiding you. It was your sixth year now and you were growing tired of it, leading you to venting your frustrations to the twins during another late night adventure.

"I'm fed up of it! I want to experience going to Hogsmeade with someone,"

"You do that with us," George says with a cocky smirk, but you simply shoot him a glare as you carry on.

"I want to hold someone's hand, have them tell me I look pretty."

"I did that this morning," Fred interjects.

"I want to be dated, i want to be kissed, I want to have sex!"

"I volunteer!" Both twins say, immediately standing up with their hands raised, earning a roll of your eyes as you laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation.

"Both of you sit down and shut up!" You laugh, pushing them back to lean on the stone wall they were originally sat on. "I'm serious, I think there's something wrong with me."

"There's not a single thing wrong with you princess," Fred says, turning to George who backs him is with a slow shake of his head. "Those boys are just idiots, you're better off with us."

When the Yule Ball was announced and people started immediately bagging dates, your concern only grew as time passed and you weren't asked. It was strange, you'd see the boys looking at you, heard rumours they were going to ask you from your friends but then nothing seemed to happen. Until Cedric came along. You'd been friends since your first year, not overly close but friendly enough, you shared classes together and he was an excellent quidditch player, almost as good as George and Fred.

"Hi, um, how are you?" He asks, cheeks flushed pink as he catches you in the corridor outside the great hall.

"Hi Ced, I'm good thanks how are you?" You smile up at him, confused by his nervousness. His foot was bouncing on the spot and his hands seemed to fluctuate between being in his robe pockets to outside again, almost like he couldn't make up his mind at where to keep them.

"I was wondering," he pauses slightly, "are you with the Weasley twins?"

"Umm no I don't know where they are? I assume they're at dinner," you say with a frown, wondering why he was bringing up Fred and George so randomly. He lets out a nervous chuckle, placing his hands back in his pocket as he shakes his head slightly with a shy smile.

"No I meant, with them, you know," he says, emphasising the 'with' this time.

"Oh, no," you say with a smile, "not with anyone."

"Good," he says quickly before realising what he'd said. "I mean... sorry." It was almost painful to experience this, watching as he stumbled through his words. "I was wondering if you wanted to go."

"There she is!" Fred says, walking over to you having appeared out of the hall, throwing his arm around your shoulder and pulling you tightly to his side.

"Thanks mate, sometimes she wanders off, good job keeping your eye out for her, appreciate it."

Fred pulls you away and you're so stunned that you mindlessly follow him, your mind not able to string two thoughts together as you take a place beside them at the Gryffindor table, taking off your tie so you wouldn't be spotted amongst the crowd of Gryffindors.

"What was that about?" You suddenly ask, snapping out of your confused gaze and looking up accusingly at Fred who's devouring a chicken leg with as much tact and delicacy as Fang would.

"What?" He asks with mouth full of food making you squint at him in disgust as he asks stupid.

The next time it happened, you realised something was up.

Ron and Harry were discussing dates in study class across the table from you when they got the news from Hermione that even Neville had got a date, making him more depressed than ever.

"Y/n, you're a girl," he says, pushing back his hair from his face as he addresses you.

"What gave it away?" You snark, hardly looking up from your parchment as you finish up your sentence. Fred snorts on your right side and goes back to his own writing, if that's what you could call it with his terrible handwriting. You can almost feel George beside you tensing up, his shoulders squaring as he looks at his brother, watching him closely.

"We'll have you got a date? You could go with me," Ron says with a little shrug, unsure of himself.

"She's already going with us, back off little brother," Fred says suddenly, eyes snapping up to glare at his younger brother with the same viciousness as his tone.

"Since when?" You ask, eyeing him curiously.

"You want to?" He asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you. You look towards George who looks on expectantly and you relent, knowing that it would be better to go with your best friends than go alone.

"Fine," you say, "but no funny business," you warn them both, stretching out your index finger to point at the both of them accusingly.

"Never," George says dramatically, closing his eyes as if the very thought was unheard of, making you glare at him.

Apparently the word didn't spread quick enough about you going with Fred and George because only two hours later you were asked by Justin.

"Well I wasn't sure if you were going with them both or not, I heard it last week but you hadn't said anything since," he explains after you'd tried to delicately let him down.

"Wait what? Last week?" You ask, confused by his words. He nods slowly, as if you should know.

"Yeah I heard them telling Lee that you were going with both of them, which you know Lee, it spread quicker than jam on toast. No one really thought anything of it at first, I mean George said ages ago that you're practically dating them."

"Excuse me."

The realisation had your head spinning, had they really be plotting for this long. It was then all along?

"Oi Weasley and Weasley, open up!" You said loudly, banging on their dorm room door, having crept in with Ginny on the way in past the portrait hole.

"Our favourite girl, how can we be of service?" Fred asks as he opens up the door, giving you a brilliant smile. He's shirtless and you falter slightly at the unexpectedness of the view. When he catches you looking he winks playfully as he shuts the door.

"Still want no funny business?" He teases, hopping down onto his bed.

"I know it was you two," you say, catching George unaware as he walks out of the bathroom, seeing you stood by the door. "It all makes perfect sense now! You've been pushing the lads away haven't you! Practically bloody dating?" You shout, shooting George a thunderous look. "Bit suspicious that the last three blokes that tried to ask me out have a) magically developed a face full of boils, b) had his eyebrows burnt off and c) got a bloody black eye from your stupid telescope! Tell me now, is it a coincidence?"

For the first time, you see the twins share a look between themselves before their faces twist into guilty expressions.

"It's just," Fred begins.

"You belong with us," George says, taking a seat opposite where you stood on his bed.

"Excuse me?" You say, brows pulling together as you send them both a harsh glare.

"You're ours princess, you always have been. Just like we're yours."

You're speechless as you look between them both, seeing them looking back at you with expressions you'd never seen in them. They looked hungry, honest and slightly vulnerable, rendering you completely mute until you could find the right words.

"How long?"

"Can't remember," Fred replies quickly, honestly. "Before you first came home with us for the holidays."

"That was third year!"

"Second year then," he says with a shrug, completely unashamed to be answering so honestly, unashamed of his feelings.

"The bloody sorting ceremony if I'm being honest," George says a bit less bluntly, "but definitely when you threw that snowball straight at Fred's head for calling you badger girl," he says with a chuckle, making a smile appear on your face.

"I swear I've still got a mark from that!" Fred says with a smirk and you roll your eyes at his dramatics. "Should have been a bloody beater with that aim."

“I’ll beat you now,” you threaten playfully, watching as his face erupts with a devilish grin.

“Beat me off whenever you like,” he retort and you have to fight rolling your eyes again as a smile tugs at your face.

It's quiet for a moment, no one speaking, not knowing how to proceed.

"You really mean it? You… both…me?"

"Yup,” they both say, as if it was nothing, as if you’d asked them to borrow a pencil.

“Told you Angel, we’re yours, always have been. If you’ll have us.” They both look up at you with hope clearly plastered across their faces, eyes twinkling as they show their vulnerability.

“One condition,” you say, cocking an eyebrow up at them.

“Anything princess,” Fred says.

“No more pranks on lads that talk to me, not everyone was trying to ask me out you know.”

They look like they’re going to protest, not liking the idea of the lads talking to you especially if you were now theirs but you smirk and decide to put their minds at ease.

“Once everyone knows I’m yours, officially this time, it won’t be a problem.”

“And how to we do that?” George asks, squinting a little.

“Either of you ever given a love bite?”

[nellasbookplanet]

Book recs: sapphic romance for people who like Hannibal and Interwiev with the Vampire, aka fucked up and toxic

Enemies to lovers, lovers to enemies, fucked up power imbalances, manipulations, plain bad people doing bad things - if you like your sapphics a little bit dark check out these books!

Some of these end happily, some tragically, some are more will-they-won’t-they than full on romance, some focus on healing while others focus on Getting Worse, but they’re all very juicy.

For details on the books, continue under the readmore

Feel free to recommend more books in tags and comments!

Othe book rec posts:

Really cool fantasy worldbuilding

Really cool sci-fi worldbuilding

Mermaid books

Vampire books

The Abyss Surrounds Us by Emily Skrutskie

Young Adult. tumblr classic back in the day! A trainer of sea monsters genetically engineered to protect ships from pirates is kidnapped by, you guessed it, pirates, one of whom happens to be very hot.

Escaping Exodus by Nicky Drayden

While my feelings on Escaping Exodus were mixed, it cannot be denied that the dynamic between the two leads and the way they go from childhood best friends to enemies on different sides of a class and power struggle is very delicious. It also features some really cool worldbuilding of living, alien generation spaceships and the human culture that has developed inside them.

The Stars are Legion by Kameron Hurley

This book fucked me up when I read it. It’s weird, it's gross, there’s So Much Viscera, there are literally no men, it has living spaceships and biotech but in the most horrific way imaginable. Had I to categorize it I would call it grimdark military sf. It’s an experience but not necessarily a pleasant one.

The Lumionus Dead by Caitlin Starling

Possibly one of the most unsettling books I've ever read, and definitely the most claustrophobic. Gyre, a caver on an alien planet, ventures into the dark and dangerous underground, guided only by a woman who has no compunctions on using and manipulating Gyre as she sees fit to obtain her secretive goals down in the caves.

The Jasmine Throne by Tasha Suri

On the less toxic and fucked up side of the spectrum, but still pretty juicy. A princess held captive by her own brother, who wants to see her dead, tries to trick a servant into helping her escape, but with undeniable attraction growing between them and the servant having her own goals things quickly get complicated.

Gideon the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir

Listen, if you're on tumblr I probably don't need to explain this book to you. Trust me when I say it's exactly as good as people claim. There are indeed lesbian necromancers in space (quite a few of them, actually), but also incredible worldbuilding that keeps growing with every new installment, interesting political commentary, morally complex characters with fucked up dynamics, and well-thought out plot that keeps you guessing until the last.

They Never Learn by Layne Fargo

Listen, sometimes you just want to read about a vicious bisexual lady professor who murders predatory men and falls for the woman trying to solve her crimes and that's okay.

Fingersmith by Sarah Waters

The source of not one but two movie adaptations, Fingersmith is a story of trickery and manipulation as a young conwoman works to gain the trust of a heiress. I don’t want to say much more because the twists are some of the best parts, but trust that it doesn’t take long for things to get real complicated between them.

The Unbroken by C.L. Clark

Tourraine, who was stolen as a child and trained as a soldier for the empire that conquered her home, is recruited by Luka, the future leader of the conquering country to route out a rebellion. A game of twisted loyalties and attraction is soon to develop.

This Is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone

Again, if you're on tumblr (or twitter, apparently) you have in all likelihood already heard of this one, too. Just like GtN it lives up to all expectations. It features two women on different sides of the titular time war, who starts leaving letters for the other to find as they chase each other through time. A quick read, slightly surreal, and absolutely beautiful, I cannot recommend this enough. Pretty mild on the fucked-up-scale.

House of Hunger by Alexis Henderson

In a world where the rich drink blood to preserve their health, Marion applies to a position as bloodmaid in a notorious noble house far from home. Suddenly showered with luxuries and debauchery, Marion soon gains the interest and favor of Lisavet, countess of the house. A fresh take on the idea of vampires.

Sorrowland by Rivers Solomon

A young pregnant woman flees a cult that left her body strange and changing in terrifying ways. Hidden from the world, she does her best to raise her children while trying to find out the truth of the cult and being pursued by a hunter in a dangerous game of cat and mouse. In no way a romance, but certainly has some fucked up sapphic shit going on.

The Traitor Baru Cormorant by Seth Dickinson

After her home was conquered by another land, Baru is determined to join their forces and climb the ladder until she’s in a position to free her people. To prove her loyalty, she’s sent to bring order and quell rebellion in another conqured region. Baru is set to succeed, but also has to struggle with her feelings for Tain Hu, a duchess of this region.

Ice Massacre (Mermaids of Eriana Kwai trilogy) by Tiana Warner

Young Adult. A small island is forced to defend itself against intruding forces of vicious mermaids. As all men trying to fight them get lured in by their siren song, a ship filled with warrior girls is sent instead. However one of them, Meela, had a complicated past with one of the mermaids, which is brought back to life when the two reunite on the battlefield. This one is also available as an ongoing webcomic!

Borderline (The Arcadia Project trilogy) by Mishell Baker

Urban fantasy mystery. Very much of the will-they-won’t-they variety, with a bisexual lead who has a male love interest as well as a female without falling into the typical pitfalls of a love triangle. Plays around with various fucked up power dynamics. A year after a failed suicide attempt that cost her both her legs, Millie is recruited by a secretive organisation that works to control traffic to and from Arcadia, the land of faries. Bear in mind that while the sapphic-ness is present throughout, it has a much smaller presence in book 1 than books 2 and 3.

Bonus AKA I haven't read these yet but they seem really cool

The Hunger by Whitley Strieber

Ancient vampire is on the hunt for a new partner, none of which tend to last long.

Codename Villanelle by Luke Jennings

Precursor of the famous Killing Eve tv series. While I don’t know much of the books, I did enough research to know this: their endings differ.

[rotting-ink]

This ask is a bit different from the “wanting kids” one. What about a surprise pregnancy for the ROs? (For the ones who can’t, let’s say magic was involved).

~ 🦇

L Rawlins: Quietly over the moon. Wants your confirmation that you wanna keep it before allowing them to grow attached to the tiny bump. Talks to it, cares for you, protectiveness goes up a thousand percent more. Loves them already so so much. Does get out their own kid's old stuff and dusts it off and is quietly so excited. You can tell by their tail in wolf form and by their pleased little smile in human form.

S Della Rovere- ASTOUNDED. "babe, im dead. not supposed to have any working bits." also scared shitless. they're not built for taking care of tiny things like a baby. Needs a pep talk and then they're in. Starts immediately baby proofing a section of the manor. "Babe, they get three whole rooms to tumble around in, i refuse to alter our horny rooms."

Z Chambers- Horrified. "But... What will it be? I'm a reaper, i'm a specter... What if it comes out as some sort of ghoul?" Demands excessive checks on it from Starling before they relax. Yes, it has a heartbeat, yes, it's growing well. Yes, Starling doesn't think that it's some sort of undead abomination. Then they're in awe. Whispers to it. So happy.

V De Winters- Terrified. Will not listen to you. Starts setting up a new apartment for you to stay in, close to their home, organises private doctor visits, lots of baby clothes but you won't see a lot of them. They're too busy. You need to flag them down and sit by them and hold them. You need to confirm that you'll be okay, the child is okay, and they'll be okay. V will have to cry a lot for a while and then they suit up. Quietly pleased. Gets to set up an account just for baby money so you can spend things on the lil one too.

Seir-"... Ehe." Smug. You're riddled with their demon spawn and they cannot WAIT for the thing to pop out and help bring around the end of the world bit by bit. But for now, they're curled up like a happy cat around you, purring away and nuzzling at you in their human form.

Saleos- Oh fuck yeah, their dominion needed an heir. Pampers you, treating you with a decree of pleased adoration. Their spawn is on the way, you're an excellent parent to share your genetics with it, their dominion is safe, Seir is seething and they get to bind you forever to them. Wonderful.

Starling Knight- Another grey hair sprouts. Head in hands. Does asks you what you want to do. Then they take a shot of whiskey and gets to work. Flatly cuts half their time at whichever of their jobs pays worse, so they can start prepping their tiny house, or prepping your cottage. Fine with splitting their time between their own house and yours, unless you want to move in together. Works out what you gotta be eating and your resting time. Becomes a helicopter parent early but only for the pregnancy. Is soft tho. You can see it in the way they quietly makes plans for you three to visit Egypt for a long while as they fully believe their childhood was made better for being there. That and getting out some of their old childhood things.

A Lancaster- Worried. They're in the hunter, they're not supposed to have kids or long standing romances, etc. Would either quit the hunters or pay for you to follow them back to head quarters and sequester you in the city. But if you lean on them, they'd quit and stay in South Hollow with you. They become saddened but after a week or two, they snap into parental mode, throwing them into this new life long endeavor to look after you and their child.

E Rawlins- INSANELY HAPPY. RUNS IN A CIRCLE AROUND YOU, PANTING AND WIGGLING. SO EXICTED. Finally would let L back in their life full time, they're not afraid of you being stolen away. Waits on you hand and foot, already so excited. Also hornier than ever.

Quincy Beaumont- Struck dumb for a moment. "... R... Really? Huh." Shocked, didn't think they'd be able to have kids. Is at a cross roads. They want to still do their work but the tour would take them away from you. Wants you to move to Kaer Llundain, they prefer the city and they have a larger home there! Also, needs an actual support system as they dont believe they won't be a good parent. If you insist on staying in South Hollow, they'd struggle a bit more. Needs a lot of talks between you two. But reassures you of them staying with you by coming by, holding very pretty little baby outfits to give you to you.

D Woolf- Might pass out. Are you kidding them? They... They.... They... They need a long sit down. A tea. No, a coffee. No, a brandy. No, a hug. They will need a long moment, head in hands. They're happy! Just stunned! Can they be a parent? A good parent? What do they do? Needs to go to A and Z and Starling and ask for tips, fidgeting all the way. Does start getting books they want to start reading to the tiny bump that is the baby already. They're never too young to hear about Heidi! He loves Heidi. Does reread Der Struwwelpeter, decides its way too scary for your baby bump and hides it away. Seir fuckin finds it so cool though.

[janeelyakiri]

"Now remember," Gale starts, as Dream and Dove focused behind her on making their portal. "He's going to be expecting us. It's been obvious we've been working on breaking through his barrier."

"What is the point of breaking in then?" Her four eyelights turn to Nightmare, still so sour about needing assistance.

She sighs, reminding herself that he was just acting out. His family was stolen, and like every Nightmare she's helped before, he didn't know how to handle these feelings, being stolen from. "It's so he focuses on us three. You are to just rush- do NOT let your ego win. You run past him, you get to where your mate is. And get them out. Starling, Dove, and Dream got the boys."

"And I've got Nix." She growls, tone final.

Behind her, the portal had started to gather energy. Dove scoffed and glanced over. "Honey, no one wants that. You can have him." Earning themself another disgruntled glower from their counterpart.

A week was far too long with this flirty, flighty, rather airheaded version of himself.

He could feel his Old Man Age creeping up on him, despite Dove supposedly being 500 years older than himself.

But that doesn't matter for long. Soon the portal grows. energy nearly pushing him and Dove over as it expands. "Nightingale! It's open! Hurry, everyone!" He calls out to the group.

"Right!" She readies her scythes and motions them forward, through the portal. The Dreams slipping through before the energy could become too much.

In the realm of Phoenix, bathed in golden sunset colors sat a white stoned palace with gold trimmings.

And Phoenix waiting before them with help.

"Dearest sister and guests~!"

<-. first .->

[asexualbookbird]

August feels. Blurry. The Thursday of the year. Of the summer? IT feels like the year. I managed to fill out my entire Summer Bingo Board for the library. I haven't heard back about winning any prizes, but I had fun and that's what counts. Bingo made me branch out of my comfort zone which was really neat. Can't say I'll do it more often, a comfort zone is comfortable, but I do enjoy reading something Different every now and then. Did some crafty things this month, which has been a lot of fun, and I've been Smart and Wise and started on holiday gifts so I'm not scrambling in December. It's called personal growth~

The Bone Season: Tenth Anniversary Edition by Samantha Shannon ⭐⭐ - I'm salty about this. Yes, it's an improvement, but it still sucks. The world and magic is so neat, but we're stuck with a plot Like That. Made me do an actual full review on goodreads and on tumblr if you want all the details.

The Bone Season by Samantha Shannon ⭐⭐- I kept my original rating because honestly I felt the same as I did years ago. It's worse than the updated version, but it's the core of the novel that needs changing. Props to this one at least for making Paige asexual. I do not want to see this book on ace book lists ever again.

The Adventure Zone: The Suffering Game by The McElroys and Carey Pietsch ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐- One of the best installments so far. The art is AMAZING, I love the meta they're doing with Griffin and The Hunger, it was a little rushed and I'm bummed we aren't getting a full adaptation of The Stolen Century, but this is still right up there with Petals to the Metal for me!

The Hollow Places by T Kingfisher ⭐⭐⭐⭐ - T Kingfisher has never written a bad novel to me, but this one did take me longer than her others to really click. The audio narrator had some inflections that didn't work for my brain, but once they went through the door, things got Weird and picked up. These two made so many stupid decisions, but it still felt in character! Big Stan Pines energy coming from that uncle.

Frostbite: How Refrigeration Changed Our Food, Our Planet, and Ourselves by Nicola Twilley ⭐⭐⭐⭐ - For book bingo! Got me a square for Read Nonfiction, Read Something About The Environment, and Read Something You Found from Book Page (a magazine advertising new and upcoming books). AND it had a local connection. I learned a lot, it was really neat and didn't feel like I was reading a textbook. It was very engaging, and has me looking at grocery stores differently. It was hard to find, though, because Frostbite is a very common name in the urban fantasy romance genre.

The Only Good Indians by Stephen Graham Jones ⭐⭐⭐⭐ - Oof. Very heavy, very creepy, very GOOD. Did not expect the many graphic dog deaths, but that was on me. Technically I WAS warned, my brain just didn't register "SGJ dogs are not safe" as "The dog dies in this one". The audio narrator was very good, but I had to listen to the opening a couple times to really get everything to click. It might've been easier had I" read it myself, but the cadence of the narrator really added to the story.

The Last Heir to Blackwood Library by Hester Fox ⭐ - Wow when was the last time I had a true one star read. (Actually not too long ago. It was The Novice.) This wanted so badly to be The Haunting of Hill House, but if you want another book like Hill House, just read Starling House. We missed what actually happened in the book because the main character was losing her memory. If you want that, go read Harrow the Ninth. This was a mess and I hated it.

On that note, I need to read something to recharge my faith in books, so MURDERBOT TIME! That's my only reading plan for September, but now I'm feeling Rushed because the year is almost over and I still have about half of my reading goals list left. Whoops. I'd also like to at least attempt some of the Swordtember prompts, if not do all of them. That looks like a lot of fun! So! Onward we go!

[milla-frenchy]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you for the tag, @goodwithcheese 😁 loved these ao3 questions ❤️ @thundermartini @sawymredfox @mermaidgirl30

1. how many works do you have on AO3?: 35

2. what's your total AO3 word count?: 158,827

3. what fandoms do you write for?: Pedro and Boyd

4. top five fics by kudos

Smack my b*tch up

Blackmail

Wolf like me

Room 301

7 am

5. do you respond to comments?: I'd say, 95% of them

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?: easy 😁😬 Wolf like me

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?: Morning waves, I think? Probaby the fic with the most positive vibes, everyone's nice and happy 😌

8. do you get hate on fics?: so far, never

9. do you write smut?: that's the only thing I write, actually lol

10. craziest crossover: Blackmail. I don't know if it's crazy, but Joel/Javi P? Fuck yeah!

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?: Not that I'm aware of

12. have you ever had a fic translated?: No

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?: Yes, @aurorawritestoescape and I wrote several fics together 💕

Keep on your mean side

The burglary

Bad girl

The hounds of hell

14. all time favorite ship?: Hannibal / Clarice Starling

15. what's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?: There's one called Dopamine. In my drafts for sooooo long. It's almost finished, but I didn't like it enough to post it. I guess my writing changed, maybe I should try to rewrite it a little, and see if I can do something with it

16. what are your writing strengths?: @iamasaddie wrote this in a rb once:

can’t explain it, but there is a very specific voice you use when you write dark fics, I would always recognize it. I love it so much, it’s not tacky, not filled with stereotypes, it is creepy in a way that makes you exited 😈

I love it so much and I think it's a strengh

17. what are your writing weaknesses?: English isn't my native language, I have a ton of weaknesses 😭😭😭

18. thoughts on dialogue in another language?: as a writer, I used some spanish in Glory O. I don't speak spanish at all, @toxicanonymity helped me with it 🙏

As a reader, I like it, if the translation follows immediatly the dialogue. If I need to check at the end of the fic it takes me out of it 🥲

19. first fandom you wrote in?: Pedro

20. favorite fic you've written?: Blackmail, I think. I love this story and I'm kinda proud of the ending 🙏

npt: @toxicanonymity @corazondebeskar @covetyou @aurorawritestoescape and anyone who wants to play 🙏

Tagging some moots but I don't know if you're on ao3: @joelmillerisapunk @604to647 @mermaidgirl30 @mountainsandmayhem @bonezone44

[lorei-writes]

One Sunny Afternoon

Keith x Maeve (@keithsandwich 's OC) Fluff (?) ~500 words Content Warnings: none

@keithsandwich I was wondering when may be a good time to send it your way, but then I realised there's no such thing as bad time or a good time, so... Here it is? I hope it's a pleasant surprise.

Bumblebees buzzed in blooming clover, hundreds of hairy abdomens brushing against the white petals as a swarm of bees rushed ahead to another meadow. Shielding her eyes from the sun, Maeve turned her face towards the far end of the village, last few houses flickering at the very edge of the pasture. Something flickered between the faraway trees, further than her vision could reach…

Bumblebees buzzed in blooming clover, hundreds of hairy abdomens brushing against the white petals as a swarm of bees rushed ahead to another meadow. Shielding her eyes from the sun, Maeve turned her face towards the far end of the village, last few houses flickering at the very edge of the pasture. Something flickered between the faraway trees, further than her vision could reach…

Another something dropped on her head, a wide straw rim cutting away at the azure sky above.

“You’re goin’ to get burned,” Keith said. He said.

“Thank you. But I didn’t expect to see you now. I thought you said you weren’t interested in this inspection?”

Keith raised a quizzical brow. His mind took a pause, his lips pursing to then twist into a grin. “I ain’t, but I’m not lettin’ him blew it either.”

A large hand shot up, disappeared from within her field of vision, to then come down and take away the clouds. Keith tugged the hat further down – Maeve fought him, batting at his arm, and the pin in her hair only loosened, and loosened, until the knot at the back of her head fell apart. As if a dam broke, black waves cascaded down her shoulders, unrelenting current of hair drowning out her face, even if just for a moment. Maeve pushed the unruly strands back, eyes darting around to search for the lost accessory. Too slow, or perhaps Keith was simply too fast, the golden pin glinting, tucked behind his belt.

“He should have given ya a hat, not a pin. Wouldn’t want to see ya pretty skin get all red and hurtin’.”

Her eyes narrowed at his smirk. “I could have both.”

“No.”

Playful winds tousled Keith’s hair, combed their fingers through the ashen brown curls to then pull at his cape, few wayward gusts getting lost in the skirt of Maeve’s dress. Gold flickered at the very bottom of his eyes, eternally surprised as their hands touched, both of them reaching to hold the hat down… and she…

...so small, so delicate…

So fragile…

… as if she herself could be stolen from before his eyes, snatched away, taken directly from his arms, lifted somewhere, far beyond his hopes, outside of even his dreams…

“Keith?”

Her fingers entwined with his, roots taking firm hold of his feet. Whatever he felt, Keith pushed it back, hid it behind a smirk.

“Let’s go, Blackbird.” He pulled and Maeve followed. How could she not?

Sweltering sun seeped through the canopy of branches above, horses swaying in their trot, undulating air turning dry land into a sea. Maeve brought her mare to a halt, urgent chirping of juvenile starlings luring her towards a nearby tree hollow. The entirety of Jade shone crystallised in her eyes, her lips parting as beaks emerged, starved and pleading for a meal. Father-bird zapped through air… The silence, however, was momentary, gone before it fully settled, perhaps scattered by flutter of the wings.

“Watcha thinking about, hm?” Keith asked, laughter curling the ends of his words.

“You. I was thinking of you.”

He did not need to ask why.

You've seen a typo? Let me know!

Tag List: @lancelotscloak @starlitmanor-network @violettduchess @pathogenic @fang-and-feather

@tele86 @rinaririr @keithsandwich @cheese-ception @bis-enti

@claviscollections @queengiuliettafirstlady @sh0jun @lucyw260

Tell me if you'd like to be added to my tag list :)

[rwby-necromancer-au]

OK BECAUSE AT LEAST ONE PERSON SHOWED INTEREST

I’ve been thinking about songbirds a LOT lately

I have such a vivid image in my mind of how these guys would look and how it’d look to be on one of these stolen ships taking people out of Atlas to save them. How they’d care for these people and try to keep them safe.

I’ve also toyed with the idea of giving them a uniform of some kind. Instead of them looking like ordinary people.

I think them being dressed in all black would be a cool counterpart to Atlas’s Pursuers wearing only white.

In this hypothetical uniform, they’d wear masks. (specifically plague doctor masks bc I’m predictable and they offer a lot of versatility in design considering they’re called songBIRDS)

And also I’ve always imagined them with black captain hats or black chauffeur hats:

LOTS of layers, like a LOT.

They go everywhere, so they need to be prepared for any kind of weather. The hottest of the hot and the coldest of the cold.

I figure these guys may also just use dark colors, not necessarily black

Like brown, dark green, or whatever matches their mask, which will entirely depend on what role they have on the ship. Role = what kind of bird you are.

Here are the roles and their associated birds:

- Captains are Crows or Ravens

- Second in Commands would be Passerines

- Healers/Medics are Hummingbirds or Kinglets

- General songbirds without a specific role are Blackbirds

- Caretaker songbirds (ones that care for orphaned children or the elderly) are Cardinals

- Psychiatric Songbirds are Starlings

- Chef/Cafeteria Songbirds are Swallows (see what I did there? Hehe)

I imagine they wear trench coats, which I think would be a nice callback to where Oz got the idea for his own trench coat and why he likes them so much.

Another fun callback is how Qrow has his own plague doctor/songbird mask.

And how Glynda wears similar boots to the songbirds.

They probably wear cargo pants with lots of pockets, and bodysuits that go all the way up over the head (apart from the face), these can be swapped out for short sleeve version too. Work gloves and steel toed work boots are a must, so are lots of bags and holsters. I imagine they also have a harness that has some bags on it too.

All hidden beneath a heavy trench coat, that also has pockets.

I imagine these holsters and pockets are used to hold guns, flash bangs, other forms of weapon that can temporarily disable an enemy, knives, etc.

And most of these holsters and bags have a cover to go over them, to keep the things inside in place.

Can’t have anything too restricting, they need to be able to jump, run, roll, etc.

I imagine that they whistle, sing, hum, and that every song means something different.

Rarely do they ever actually speak to each other when they’re working, only use non verbal or musical communication. The only time you’ll see them converse is when they’re on the ship itself and not in danger.

They have to give up their entire identities to do this job, only being referred to by “Songbird” or their title of songbird (I.e “Blackbird” or otherwise)

They are covered head to toe. No skin is allowed to show really.

Those with long hair must either tie their hair up in a way that their hat and bodysuit will cover it, or cut it (Most usually cut their hair).

All songbirds must know how to speak in sign language.

All the boats that are used to take people out of Atlas/Mistral must be stolen from Atlas/Mistral or made to look identical to their ships. That way they can avoid detection

But yeah, those are some of my thoughts about them!!!

I really love thinking about these guys!

[stitching-in-time]

Voyager rewatch s3 ep9: Future's End pt 2

Another episode where I sit there twirling my hair, kicking my feet, and grinning, having my happy Star Trek fun time. It's truly got it all: epic adventure, silly hijinks, time travel paradoxes, phaser shootouts, a cute romance subplot, heck, even a car chase! You could not ask for more.

It's also the ep that introduces the Doctor's moblie emitter, which is a huge deal for his character, and the show in general, now that he can leave sickbay like everyone else. It was honestly a genius move to have a villain use stolen 29th century holo technology to kidnap the Doctor, because not only do we have a workaround for how it can technically be accomplished, in spite of established limits of holodeck technology, we get to keep the emitter and use it forever without any temporal prime directive red tape. Slow clap for that one!

Also, what is up with Chakotay doing flirty flirt all the time in this story?! First with the Captain in the first part (typical, tbh), but then with B'Elanna in the second part! Was this a direction? Or just Beltran spicing things up for his own amusement? Idk, but it's a lot, and it feels weird with B'Elanna, especially when we straight up know he's down bad for Janeway.

And I gotta say, no alien on Star Trek has ever inspired me with visceral terror the way those flannel wearing white guys with guns in this one do. Even the Borg are pretend at the end of the day, but gun-toting rednecks are very real, and even though I know they're not going to kill off main characters, I still sit there thinking "get them out, get them out now!!" when they capture Chakotay and B'Elanna. Having the Doctor phaser those guys was a huge relief tbh!

This story feels more like a TV movie than a regular episode- being able to go to actual locations makes everything seem so much bigger. I mean, they drive past houses! They never just go down random streets on alien planets, because it's too expensive and time consuming to build just to be in the background, and here, we get all the little details of real places, atmosphere, sunshine! It's so great! All the colors look really saturated too, it's almost cartoonish, but not in a bad way. I honestly wonder if they used some kind of filters to make the trees greener and the sky bluer, or if LA really just looks like that. Star Trek tends to be very grey and beige, and I just love all the colors we see in this one.

There's so much here that's nostalgic- the flip phones! Rain Robinson's entire wardrobe! (Girl looks like she stepped out of the pages of Teen Vogue- every girl wanted to dress like her, she even had a VW van, which was very cool at the time.)

I really do like the little romantic subplot they gave to Tom and Rain. It was sweet that they bonded over being nerdy, and it was so lovely that they let Tom be genuine and not cheesy, finally. I love that they gave Rain a little speech recognizing how selfless and dutiful Tom actually is. (I think this episode is where little 10 year old me started to develop a crush on him- and here we are, 27 years later, and I'll still fight anyone who doesn't respect my cringefail nerd blorbo. I'm fine and normal, I promise!)

One thing I noticed on rewatching this, though, is that after the big car chase, when Tom and Rain have their little goodbye kiss, Tom walks away, and gets beamed back to Voyager, but, um... how is she supposed to get home?! Her van just got crashed into, and they're in the middle of the desert! You couldn't just get an Uber in those days! They left her stranded out on a desert road with no car, no food, no water! She's gonna die y'all! The least they can do after she helped them is beam her the hell back to town!! Lol wtf?!

This is one of those eps that's so much fun that you don't want it to end. But of course, our plucky Voyager crew stops Starling from taking the timeship back to the future, and prevents him from destroying the solar system. It's very satisfying knowing his greed is what gets him killed- if only billionaires always got what they deserved lol. And then they get to go back to their own time, but they have to go back to the Delta Quadrant- that pesky temporal prime directive! But we get treated to a final scene of all of the crew together in the mess hall, for the first time ever! I'm not sure if they're celebrating the Doctor's mobile emitter, or getting back to their own time, or what, but it's cute AF. Tom then calls Tuvok a freakasaurus (affectionate), and I'm just about to keel over from warm fuzzy feelings as the credits roll. I love this one so, so much!!

Tl;dr: A conclusion that lives up to the first part, this is an epic time travel story with all the fun, nostalgia, and excitement you could ask for. One of the series best, a true classic.

[howlingday]

Symbiotic?

Jaune: (Prairie dog Faunus, Picks up nugget) Mm! Can't wait to-

Ruby: (Starling bird Faunus, Snatches nugg)

Jaune: ...Okay! You can have that one! (Picking up another) And I'll have-

Ruby: (Snatches that too)

Jaune: ...Okay, that's fine! You can have that one, too. (Picks up) I'll just have-

Ruby: (Snatches, Still has her own nuggets)

Jaune: ...Okay! You can have that, too. I'll jus-

Fun Fact! In the St. Louis Zoo, prairie dogs were found having their food stolen from their paws by the local starlings. The prairie dogs, however, didn't seem agitated, and continued to pick up their food. The starlings also noticeably didn't pick up food from the ground; only when it was in the prairie dog's paws.

[thenookienostradamus]

Favorite 9 books read in 2023 (tag game shamelessly stolen from another user):

Looking Glass Sound - Catriona Ward. I will read anything she writes, quite literally. This one is all about writing, its allure and its peril. A+++

Tracers in the Dark: The Global Hunt for the Crime Lords of Cryptocurrency. Didn't expect this to be as utterly riveting as it was.

The Three-Body Problem - Cixin Liu. Finally read it; omg mind-blowing.

In the Lake of the Woods - Tim O'Brien. Damn, this guy can write.

The Sparrow - Mary Doria Russell. Damn I read some great sci-fi last year.

We Are All the Same in the Dark - Julia Heaberlin. Fantastic mystery/thriller out of left field. Picked it up on a whim; zero regrets.

At Night All Blood is Black - David Diop. Brief, brutal, poetic. Amazing.

Winter Counts - David Heska Wanbli Weiden. I was glued to the page, rooting for these wonderful, earnest, flawed characters.

Sandy Hook: An American Tragedy and the Battle for Truth. Horrifying, but also a rare example of the justice system getting things right. Eat a bag of dicks, Alex Jones.

Tagging, because I'm curious: @gefionne, @niennawept, @clementine-starling, @porlovistoeinmasochist, @daziechane, @nocompromise-noregrets, @spiced-wine-fic, @evmorfiad, @helenvader, @inkcurlsandknives, @theelfmaiden, @clumsycopy and anyone else who cares to say!