sweeter than sweet~ but on hiatus~

⭒ 𝑺𝑼𝑵𝑫𝑨𝒀, minors do not interact

“you’re perfect.. like this.” SUNDAY breathes, voice low and shakey as his hands smooth along the inside of your thighs - spreading you open while his eyes look over you from behind his lashes. he’s drinking in every dip of your figure as he kneels between your legs and you lay naked beneath him. “you resemble a true visionary of beauty - simply radiant.” chuckling, as he watches the way his praise seems to smooth beneath your skin.

you’re spread out so eagerly and his cock throbs before he speaks again, a flush high on his cheeks - framed by his silver hair that’s mused from your hands. “although i must assure you that appearing beautiful is not unlike you, my angel.”

you watch sunday intently, watch how he moves to drag his fingers along your folds - your essence glistening along his skin after how well he’s prepped you and it makes something like anticipation warm you from the neck down.

“yes.. if one were in my position, there would be no room for disagreement, i assure you of that.” he purrs again, deliberately petting over your clit like it’ll emphasise his point and you jerk at the sudden sensitivity, exactly how he likes, before he brings his fingers to his mouth next - without hesitation.

he sucks them between his lips with a groan, cheeks hollowing as he cleans off your slick before he drags them out slowly. “hah- although nobody else will come this close.. nobody but me atleast, i shan’t allow it.” his voice drawls as he swallows loudly, possessiveness lacing his tone in a way that makes you tremble.

“p-please.” you whisper, your eyes cloudy with want as you blink up at the man above you and sunday feels himself throb at your airy tone.

@tearsofcalamity

NEEEDDD to tack onto this bc I don’t have energy to write

- aventurine that shoots blanks and whines so much his voice shoots up octaves and cracks

- the WAY he’s so teary eyed and his eyes roll back !!

- his body keeps twitching while his dick keeps leaking cum and he seriously can’t help it <3 he keeps making cute little noises… maybe hiccups a bit from all of his crying :,((

- AHEGAO,,, sorry to be hentai brain’d but his facial expressions are straight from a hentai he’s just so cute !!! And subby that lost orgasm he HAS to hold onto you for dear life and get kissed sooo much and be called good boy; be touched so gently and touch grazing his sensitive skin he’s shivering… oh he’s SO in love that he’ll cry again 🥰🥰🥰

If you say “I love you baby” when he’s this vulnerable, orgasms having melted his brain into a puddle; it looks like he wants to cum because he’s SO smitten, that his words come out disorganized and he just has to lean into your touch 💞💞💞

nothing else exists between you and your fav when your eyes meet <3

I can’t do a reply @anantaru but thank you so much Yoru for answering >o< !! I’d love to hear more about the magazine you do but it sounds to me you’re on a 25/8 grind. Please don’t overwork yourself ;o;’

Sunday manipulating you into loving him...

His manipulation is so good that you no longer doubt your feelings. It's hard to imagine your life without him, and it shows. You cling onto him like a baby bird and he is soaking in all of the attention like a man who hasn't had a sip of water in a millennium....

He needs you. He needs you like never before, he is love for you is ethereal and true. His devotion mirrors that of an acolyte worshiping their beloved god.

Please, love him in the same way he loves you, for nothing else shall satisfy him and his bleeding heart.

warnings: mentioned child abuse, fem!reader, arranged marriage, implied obsessive behavior.

Imagine being reincarnated not as the heroine of the dark romance novel that you fell asleep reading, but the male lead’s villainous stepmother. Although it would be many years before you would marry his father, and your family would get out their mountain of debt from this arranged marriage. You swore to not take out your anger on the poor child as you laid in your crib.

Just because the duke still held a candle for his first wife and the mother of the male lead, his son did not deserve such cruel treatment from a woman who would never receive any affection from her husband. Arranged marriages rarely result in mutual happiness, but there is always the possibility of creating a respectful partnership between each other. 

So that is what you will do. 

You became ambitious in your studies and etiquette lessons, making connections with other young ladies of high society as your own reputation grew. Instead of becoming known for being a spiteful and superficial noblewoman,  invitations to soirees, tea parties, and banquets arrived at your household every other day.

The Mad Dog of Macaluso became The Blossoming Flower of High Society. Despite the marriage proposals your household had received, none of the gentlemen in the Umbra Empire were as rich as Giovanni Lombardo, the grand duke and the male lead’s father. 

So, the marriage still happened; but you were not bothered by your new husband’s declaration on your wedding night that he would never have a child with you, citing that he found you unpleasant and nothing at all like his deceased wife as his tall frame towering over yours as gray orbs glaring down at you with icy disdain. You stared at him for a moment before you smiled.

“No one can ever replace a loved one, and it is a relief to know that you do not care for me romantically, Your Grace. This is a situation that is beneficial only to my house, and the Emperor had forced you to select me because he was tired of hearing everyone talking about how his most trusted aide has refused to remarry since his wife’s passing six years ago during childbirth. Your son is your heir, so there is no need to have another child. If you would permit me, I would like to get to know him more. If you do not believe me, you can assign a servant to watch me interact with him and the rest of the staff. Is that acceptable?”

The baffled expression on the duke’s face at your words had been worth all the hard work you have placed into being a better side character that wouldn’t be killed in the novel’s third chapter. You would not disappoint him. 

You would prove to be a valuable partner and protect the male lead until it was time for you to leave the stage. 

Three years passed. You performed your duties as the duchess, overseeing the household and organizing any functions that were to be hosted in the duchy. When you weren’t doing paperwork in your private office or speaking to the head butler on how to improve the workplace and other matters, you spent time with the male lead. 

Alessandro was a sweet little darling, possessing his father’s shiny platinum silver tresses and his mother’s bright blue eyes that sparkled in delight when you praised him for doing so well in his studies with a big hug or a kiss on the cheek. He was precocious for a six-year-old, though he still could not understand why his Papa didn’t like Mama. Mama being you, even when you have had to gently correct him more than once that you are his stepmother, not his birth mother. 

“Some day when you are older, you will understand.” You said, resting your chin on top of his head as you carefully adjusted your grip around his middle. He liked to sit in your lap under the garden’s pagoda during tea time, and you saw no issue with it.  “Papa may not like me, but we love you. That will never change, and we only want the best for you.” You ran a hand through his hair, tucking a stray strand behind his ear. 

In the original work, he became obsessed with the female lead because he did not receive any love from his father and was abused by his stepmother. Her gentle demeanor, her kindness and loveliness triggered his desire to have her all to himself. He had even commissioned the construction of a human-sized golden cage so that he could keep the female lead by his side forever. 

Alessandro pouted. “But I don’t want to wait that long! Can’t you tell me now?”

You chuckled. “Good things come to those who wait, my dear. Believe it or not, being a grown-up can be hard in this big, scary world.”

“That’s impossible! Papa is super cool and can do so many things!”

“Yes, he is quite something, isn’t he? Now drink some tea or it will get cold.” 

What you did not realize at the time was that the duke had returned home early from work and went to search for you. The head maid had told him where you were, though the duke had not expected Alessandro to be with you in the garden. He heard what you said about him, and how you have come to accept that you will never be loved by him and it was not his son’s fault.  How affectionate you were with him, smiling and ruffling his hair while reminding him to pay attention to his arithmetic tutor because it was important for him to understand numbers because they were just as important as knowing all colors in a rainbow or which fork to use for salads. 

You had kept your promise to him. 

You did not demand his affections, prioritizing the duchy and his son’s wellbeing. You did not take any paramours nor spent more than the allowance you were given to shop for dresses and other accessories in the capital. You attended tea parties, and did not bring shame to his family name. You were a perfect wife. You were worthy.

Would you object to him spending time with his son as you do? Would you allow him to get close, to spoil you with gifts? Would you even consider the idea of giving Alessandro a younger sibling? It’s been too long, and he does have needs. 

Happy Mother's Day, guys~! :)

Taglist: @nunezs-stuff @imperfectbloodmoon @yandere-dark-cupid @aiimee9 @cassanderasblog @facelessfionna @ixchelhernandez4 @yourdoorisunlocked @faux-ecrivain @julietdelamare @reiivven @ghostdoodlen @persephone-kore-law @dreamlessnight @obsessedwithromance @f4turemom @pinkgoldweebgirl @yandere-writer-momo

I know this is mainly a Genshin blog, but.... the latest HSR update did things to me.

I'm not the only one thinking that Sunday 1000% has a cage for his darling, right? Like with the way they set that up in the story, I can totally see Sunday keeping his sweet darling all to himself via a gilded cage buried somewhere in private recesses of the family mansion. No one bothers with it or you until Gallagher decides to give Sunday a taste of his own medicine. How better to humble the Oak Family head than to lock Sunday behind the very bars that have held you in and force him to watch you be f*cked within an inch of your life by Gallagher.

⭒ 𝑺𝑼𝑵𝑫𝑨𝒀, minors do not interact

“what’re you thinking about?” you speak softly as your fingertips trace warm along the cut of SUNDAY’s features, he was like a true deity in these moments, divine in nature and appearance as the thin sheen of sweat against his skin makes him shine - you think you’d find falling to worship him quite easy.

he hadn’t realised he was lost in thought, thinking of the days to come as you both lay tangled in the sheets in his quarters. still intertwined with eachother as he softens, twitching between your thighs and your folds from where he still rests inside of you.

your souls are laid bare completely and maybe it’s the atmosphere that surrounds you both that makes it so easy for him to let down his guard and find himself spacing out as his body blankets yours. you feel his bicep that’s curling around your waist hug you closer to his chest as he smiles softly, his gaze lifting to meet yours while his fingers leave featherlight touches along the length of your spine.

you’re both still warm as you bask in the remnants of your lingering pleasure.

“heh, just pondering our fates. it’s nothing you need to concern yourself with, my dear.” sunday’s voice is a pleasant lull as he replies to you, it’s gentle and tender - as is his other hand when it reaches for your fingertips along his cheeks, wrapping around them before he’s bringing them to his mouth to kiss them adoringly.

you know he’s trying to distract you from anymore questions with his lips, but you decide to let him work as he coats you in kisses - like little angel pecks as he follows the path along your fingers with a few more that trail up your hand to your forearm then your shoulder, then to your neck as they tickle you affectionately and his hand intertwines loosely with your own.

translation

5k words. gender neutral reader, established relationship, angst, non-graphic sex (reader bottoms, anatomy neutral), themes of cultural loss, references to slavery, aventurine’s canonically implied desire to die. MDNI.

Aventurine cannot lie in Avgin.

Deception does not come easily to him in his mother tongue. His command of it is too weak—and too kind. The universe was a different place in the days when his life was coloured by the warble of Avgin dialect. It felt simpler, partly because he was a child and partly because Sigonia was yet untouched by outsiders. There were no corporations, no casinos, no commodity codes. His entire world was sand, desert, mother, sister, father (or more often—ghost), goddess, tent, wagon, luck, sin, rain, blessing, Avgin.

Katican.

bail funds for pro-palestine activists

this list is updated as of 24 april 10pm EST. i'll try to update as i find further bail funds and legal supports: if you know of other funds or if information shared here is incorrect, please reblog with updated info (+ a timestamp) so people can give and access support.

palestine will be free, solidarity forever 🍉 🇵🇸

UPDATED AS OF 25 APRIL 6:45 EST

live updates of student protests on instagram at:

reblog this version please

golden tongue ノ imaginary men

ৎ୭ ₊ ˙ ⊹ . 1.2k ノ gn reader — sloppy bj ノ oral . character receiving ノ petname — baby ノ rewritten thirsts . added aventurine <3

with a broken chuckle and bitten lips, he gazes down at you, the hypnotic look of his magenta cyan eyes filled with love and lust. he’s all wound up tight, his nerves buzzing with desire as he feels the wetness of your tongue sliding along the shaft. savouring the taste of him and fluttering your lashes at the sight of the disarmed man above you, you moan against the slippery girth to let him know you enjoy it just the same.

you always liked the sound he makes when you wrap your mouth on his length. a deep rumble at the back of his throat. he trembles when you pull him closer and suck the sensitive tip. you drag your tongue over it, taking care to trace every curve and vein, enjoying the smoothness and saltiness of his skin.

ノ aventurine, tasting the gentle and respectful love for the first time, always asks if anything he’s doing is alright with you, checking every single time if you like it or not, wanting to hear how you feel about this — there’s something bittersweet in knowing that it was this easy to consider the feelings of the other person, which leaves him puzzled. he asks quietly against your skin if you can do the same in return. he wants so badly to tell you how your touch is affecting him . . .

ノ boothill cannot silence the amused chuckle whenever there’s a spark of electricity between your fingertips and his metallic body. how you jolt back despite his arms keeping you in place, squirming from the sudden sensation and frowning a little. but then he takes your hand in his and presses his mouth to the tingling spot, soothing it with a kiss — ending it with a playful nibble of his sharp teeth so you won’t think he’s too sweet . . .

ノ gallagher wants you to scratch his back with your nails, claw at his arms, bite into his hand that muffles your whimpers and mewls. nothing you do could possibly hurt him — not when his skin is so thick, so coarse — but the feeling of you clinging to his body so desperately makes him feel alive, rushing the blood in his veins. that’s a payback for whatever he’s doing with you, perhaps always a little worried if he goes overboard, but hey, you can (try to) give him the same treatment . . .

ノ sunday cannot imagine ripping your pretty clothes — especially if they’re expensive or gifted by him — so he meticulously slides them off of your body, dragging the process just to tease you with the fleeting touch of his hands. how his fingers press into your skin when he puts them behind the waistband or under your sleeves. simply because he wants to see you fixing your outfit later as if nothing happened between you two, not a single thread ripped from the fabric . . .