#the urge to always make my characters a little bit sexy is always consistent

[honey-siren]

"I don't hurt people, I just put them to sleep. Wait- that sounded bad! Please don't record tha-"

Cricket, a timid goblin with a sweet southern drawl. I play her every other week as a full support bard and she is just the sweetest thing <3

#honey art #dnd #dnd art #goblin #dungeons and dragons #dnd 5e #eberron #bard #college of whispers #d&d #artists on tumblr #digital art #the urge to always make my characters a little bit sexy is always consistent

[tothemeadow]

Oh yes my time is now! the standard pillar girls with a fem reader vs the boys playing splatoon 2’s tower control. Once again they lose(that’s becoming too frequent 😭) and the punishment for them is that they have to wear a typical anime sexy bunny costume, the reader is shy cuz she got small tiddies and the boys keep trying to peel the top part open to look at them 👀 and she’s like 😳(not to mention I got sensitive hips so everytime they hold her hips she’s just like 😳😳😳)

I need to get my ass moving on these requests 💀

‘tower troubles’ / Pillars x Reader

warnings: spicy

words: 1,383

(a/n): Muichiro is 18+ in this!

-

“Come on, ladies! Give it your all! We won’t let those fuckers take this land!” you yell.

“Right!” Misturi exclaims.

Shinobu nods her head, a determined expression on her face.

Across the screen, it’s a complete mess of teal and yellow ink. You’re hanging on by strings, too stubborn to give up your position on top of the tower. You wish the damned thing would move faster so you could win already!

“It’s funny that you think you’ll win so easily!” Kyojuro chirps. Compared to what the other guys usually say, his “taunts” are usually nice.

“Knock them off already,” Obanai sighs. “This is getting old.”

“Who do you think you’re talking to?!” Mitsuri yelps. “If you want to take over the tower, you’ve got to try harder!”

And yeah, it does seem a bit ridiculous. Three against seven? Seriously? They should be slaughtering you, but, well, it’s not working in their favor, is it?

You shouldn’t think that way.

There’s a loud boom and then the tower is covered with yellow. You’ve just got splatted! Whoever scored a hit on your character is dead meat. Off to the side, Muichiro snickers. You hastily throw a glare at him, murderous intent in your eyes.

“Do you want to die?” you hiss.

“I do,” Giyuu mutters.

“Jesus, man, lighten up,” Tengen throws at him. “Besides, if you die, you’ll miss out on the flamboyant punishment!”

The mere idea of the planned punishment sends a shiver down your back. No, you mustn’t lose. You can’t. Not if you want to save your dignity, anyway.

“I’d rather him be dead them ogle at me,” Shinobu breathes.

Why is everyone so hellbent on killing Giyuu today?

Wait – no, take that back. In your damned moments of distraction, the timer on the top of the screen runs out for the opposing team. They’ve… they’ve won. The guys won.

“Son of a bitch!” you curse, tossing your Switch down. “This is bullshit!”

“There’s no need for violence,” Gyomei rumbles. He bows his head apologetically. “A fair match is what it was.”

Sanemi cackles. “Fucking right – seven against three. That’s fair alright. I like it.”

Tengen excitedly rubs his palms together, a look of pure mischief blooming on his face. “Alright, boys, now it is time.”

Mitsuri audibly gulps. “I want to go home.”

“I’m afraid not!” Kyojuro exclaims, drawing himself to a stand. He seemingly pulls out a paper grocery bag out of nowhere; crossing to you girls, he thrusts the bag into Mitsuri’s hands. “I think you should get the punishment out of the way, don’t you think? There’s no use in putting it off!”

“I swear to god…” Shinobu trails off.

Getting up from the couch, the three of you shuffle out of the room and into the bathroom, promptly shutting and locking the door behind you in the process. You reluctantly tug off your clothes, a mixture of nervousness and embarrassment creeping up your spine. Your skin feels too hot, the hairs on your neck and arms coming to a stand. This is not going to be fun.

“Hey, could one of you zip me up?” Mitsuri asks, her voice shy.

Turning to her, you nearly choke on your own spit. She’s already in the one-piece uniform, her bare back on full display. Holding her arms to her chest, she keeps the uniform steady so it doesn’t fall. Stepping over to her, you brush her long ponytail to the side and pull the zipper up. She looks too tempting like this, curves perfectly showcased by the costume, legs wrapped delicately in fishnet stockings. A pang of jealousy hits you in the stomach.

Glancing at your own chest, you sigh inwardly. You aren’t a brickhouse like Mitsuri; hell, even Shinobu has a bigger chest than you and she’s smaller than you are. As you look over to her, you can see her clasping the bowtie around her neck, a bored expression written on her face. She looks amazing in her uniform, so unbelievably sexy….

And then there’s you.

You shyly pull your costume on, careful to keep your breasts hidden from view. Mitsuri helps zip you up, her touch soft against your skin. Slipping the cuffs onto your wrists, you look at your reflection; the punishment consisted of the losers wearing sexy bunny costumes, Playboy style. You look like you belong in an underground cocktail bar.

“This is ridiculous,” Shinobu says, perching her bunny ears on top of her head. “I’m going to castrate Tengen in his sleep for coming up with this shit.”

“I think we look cute!” Mitsuri chirps, although her face is a bright red.

“Yeah,” you mumble, running a hand over your chest, “we look great.”

With a collective groan, the three of you emerge from the bathroom, the hardwood floors cool beneath your stocking-clad feet. Upon returning to the living room, the reaction you receive is instantaneous. Tengen, Kyojuro, Muichiro, and Sanemi all give you a round of applause, shit-eating smirks on their faces; Obanai chokes on his own spit while Giyuu casually crosses his legs; Gyomei simply gives a nod of approval.

“Meow,” Tengen purrs, clawing at the air with his fingers. “You ladies look divine.”

“I’m actually impressed,” Sanemi drawls. He waggles his finger in a come hither motion. “Come over here, bunnies.”

Shinobu curses underneath her breath. Either way, the three of you stalk over to where the others sit; you wring your hands, unease eating away at your insides. Sanemi promptly grabs onto your hips, urging you to sit in his lap. The simple touch is just enough; heat rushes across your skin, squeezes at your insides. He is stepping into some dangerous territory.

Sanemi’s a wild card – always was. Sure, he’s not outright coquettish as Tengen or Kyojuro, but he’s not completely innocent either. His fingertips dance up and down your hips; it’s like he knows the effect he’s having on your body. Well, it doesn’t help that you’re squirming, but still.

“You almost look cute like this,” Sanemi murmurs. Running his hands up your sides, they drift across your stomach, inching up further and further. Your entire body stiffens as they slip over your breasts, your breath catching in your throat. “Well, well, well,” Sanemi continues in a low voice, “sensitive, are we?”

You feel a wave of hot breath fanning over the back of your neck. “Lemme see,” Muichiro’s voice speaks up. You jolt as his hands roam your body, slipping down the curve of your spine, making you arch into his touch. “You’re not as well endowed as the others,” Muichiro murmurs into your ear. “But that just means they’ll fit in our hands better.”

“Oi, Giyuu,” Sanemi snaps, turning his head and glaring at the one sitting next to him, “are you gonna just sit there and watch?” He clicks his tongue. “Pathetic.”

The blush on Giyuu’s face darkens at Sanemi’s words. So far, he hasn’t done anything, but that’s fine with you. You don’t think you could handle another man’s touch right now. But no, Sanemi’s words spur him on; shuffling closer, he presses his hands to your thighs, his fingertips tracing over the lines of the stockings. “You look really pretty like this,” he grunts.

Heart fluttering at his words, you open your mouth to say something in return – to comfort him – but then an abrupt squeak comes out. Muichiro’s hands squeeze your breasts again, eager to have you make another noise like that.

“See? What did I tell you?” Muichiro purrs. “Perfect fit.”

“Don’t hog it all to yourself,” Sanemi growls. He quickly pushes Muichiro’s hands away, taking his turn at grabbing your breasts. He smirks at your reaction, at the little breathy groan slipping from your lips. “There we go, bunny. Just like that.”

Giyuu’s hands grow braver, bolder. He kneads at your luscious thigh, at your hip; you squirm in Sanemi’s lap, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip to control yourself. Why must you be so sensitive?

“Let us see, come on,” Sanemi urges. Seemingly getting the memo, Muichiro’s fingers tug at the zipper of your costume just the slightest bit. “Let us look at those cute little tits.”

Wait – what?

“Please?” Giyuu murmurs.

“Bunny,” Muichiro says with a giggle, “give us a real treat.”

Oh, fuck.

#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny pillars x reader #kny hashira x reader #kny pillars #kny hashira #request

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Klaus x Powered Reader

Summary: Reader is part of the umbrella academy but came when they were 12 due to parents needing help for them, ya know controlling powers and whatnot. They can shapeshift into any animal and their senses are heightened n such.

Warnings: bloody, fighting bad guys, bit of Klaus fluff

You know that moment in a movie where they freeze frame and then the character says something like “you’re probably wondering how I ended up in this situation.”

Yeah with Klaus you have those moments more times then you could count. In fact, if you had a dollar for every time Klaus has gotten you into a freeze frame moment. (And you’ve thought about this often.)

You could probably afford a real nice apartment with actual food in its fridge. Instead of living at the Academy with some apples and Klaus’ latest alcoholic beverage.

But alas, here you are in a back alley as Klaus’ bodyguard waiting for some Italian mafia members to come get their money that he owes them. Well that’s what you’re assuming but Klaus insists they’re just some moody tough guys. Okay sure.

You watch Klaus as he paces back and forth in front of you counting his cash for about the 50th time in the past 10 minutes.

Klaus stops abruptly and turns to you with a smile, “You know what I love about you, Y/N, every time I think things could get worse I look at your pretty face and I know you got me.”

Sighing in knowing annoyance you look up at him, “Are you short.”

Klaus snorts, “No actually I’m pretty long.” He says with wink.

You look up to the sky trying not to crack, you couldn’t give him the satisfaction even if it was funny, not the time or place. Especially considering his dumbass is short some cash he definitely owes very soon.

You look over to Klaus again and raise an eyebrow.

“Alright how much?”

He twiddles is fingers while avoiding your curious gaze. “Oh you know...a couple hundred or so.”

“So that’s why I’m here, emotional support my ass”, You say rolling your eyes a bit amused nonetheless.

Klaus may be an idiot but he’s funny and kind and you love him. Also you do enjoy beating up gangsters or whoever these thugs of the hour are.

Folding your arms while giving Klaus a smirk you tell him, “Well your friends better get their asses here cause when they do. I’m gonna knock their teeth in for making us wait in this shit ally. I’ve been suppressing the urge to vomit for 10 minutes.”

He nods in agreement, glad you’re not about to rip him a new one for his latest antics.

“Wait, does it really smell that bad, I mean the dumpster is at the other end of the ally.” He says in confusion.

You put your hands on your hips glancing at the dumpster and then focusing on Klaus.

“I’ve got the whole animal kingdom inside me Klaus, I know you can kinda smell that dumpster from here, but listen. For me it’s 1000x worse and let me tell you it doesn’t smell like a bath and body works around here.”

Klaus laughs scratching the back of his head, “Right, right, sorry.”

Suddenly a sketchy looking black car rolls into the ally, coming to a halt as three angry looking men walk out. Clearly hiding something within their coats, the “leader” it seems steps up and speaks.

“You betta have that 1,000 you owe us right fucking now you little theif, I don’t appreciate you takin’ my mother’s gold necklace, rest her soul.” He growls.

Klaus raises his hands up, “Listen buddy, you stole that from your own mother at her funeral...and let me tell you she’s not to happy about it.” He says looking to his left where you assume this guys dead mother is standing.

The bald guy behind him shakes his head and says, “So fuckin what? We needed that shit for other important purposes raccoon eyes.”

Klaus now lost as to where this situation is about to turn looks over at you clearly needing assistance. While mouthing “help me”.

Walking past him you hold your hands up showing you have nothing to hide, “Now that’s not very nice, a real shit personality, your mother would be very disappointed in how you’ve turned out. Cause let’s be honest it’s not like your looks are doing anything for you either.” You say snickering trying to see how they’ll react.

The first guy smirks reaching into his coat to pull out a nasty looking knife. “See this right here, I’m a good old fashioned man, I don’t believe in guns.”

You raise your eyebrows at him, “Oh well in that case we should all be quite relieved then.”

Looking behind him you notice as his two friends pull their own weapons out, which consists of a hammer and some type of meat hook.

“Klaus couldn’t have picked an easier bunch of idiots to fuck up then these psychos.” You thought.

The bald one begins to move brushing past the first guy looking like he’s seeing red.

“Jesus, man I didn’t mean to offend, I’m just making friendly conversation.” You muse.

Baldy begins to charge holding up his hammer ready to strike. “Come here you bitch, that’s my husband you’re talking to.”

He swings as you side step him, tripping him as he falls directly onto the concrete. Conveniently dropping the hammer in the process. Klaus being the ever troublesomely fantastic sidekick, picks up the hammer and throws it at you.

Gripping the hammer tightly, baldy rises from the ground faster then you’d expected mouth bloody and boiling with rage.

But in a hot second his bearded buddy in crime sprints towards you with his meat hook seemingly out of nowhere.

Klaus yells for you to watch out but you didn’t even need to look, this guys heart beat is louder then a firework and you’re faster then a viper, your senses on overload. As you turn around in record time to grab the guys right arm with the meat hook.

With your left hand tight around this guys beefy one you hold on and push his assault giving him more power. Effectively fulfilling your plan and leading the hook right into baldys chest. Who was fortunately running towards you.

A split second later with the hammer in your right hand you swing it forcefully into the guys shins. Hearing a sweet sickly crunch sound and the wild howls protruding from your assailants throat.

“Sorry I didn’t know you were married.”

“Fuck you!” He screams.

You look up hearing the sting of metal being swung in the wind, to see a knife heading straight for your throat.

With lighting reflexes you grab his wrist, the knife inches from your vulnerable skin.

Klaus gasps in the background terrified and relieved at not getting your throat slit.

You turn your fingernails to sharp cat-like claws that dig dangerously into his flesh, causing hot blood to drip out. The man drops the knife and grimaces in pain.

“I don’t know about you but I don’t think my boyfriend owes you three motherfuckers shit.” You growl, eyes beginning to glow an electric blue while the whites of your eyes shift to black, something that happens when you start to use your power.

“Fuck you, and fuck that thieving piece of junky shit crying in the corner.”

Your mood darkens, “Wrong answer.”

Letting go of his bloody wrist you grip his throat with your left hand lifting him off the ground. He begins to choke and struggles against your tight grasp.

“I know you’ve heard of me from other friends of yours, so listen very closely. If you touch Klaus again or anyone else around here who’s just trying to survive in this city. I won’t be so generous next time. Or maybe I should rip your fucking face off right now.” You squeeze tighter drawing blood.

“Y/N.”  Klaus says softly.

“Let’s go home.” He asks with pleading eyes and you snap back to reality smelling the iron scent of blood on your hands.

Sometimes you can get carried away feeling the rush of the hunt, a taxing side affect of your power, one you’ve always struggled to control.

Letting the man go he slumps to the ground coughing and sucking in straggled breaths.

“ Alright, me..me and the boys...won’t do nothing....you have my...my word....no bullshit nothing....I swear.”

“Good cause your friends are gonna need more then some stitches.”

You quickly leave the ally and start walking down the street towards the Academy.

Breathing heavily, you look up at Klaus who’s at your side as you start to feel a bit embarrassed that he saw you lose it a little.

He holds onto your arms stopping you, “Don’t worry, we’ll have a bath and watch some movies...hey you like that Museum one?”

“The Night at the Museum.” You say smiling still feeling off.

Klaus’ face lights up, “Yeah that one, with the big T-Rex skeleton and President Roosevelt on a horse.”

He links your arms together and you both begin walking again.

“Y/N, I’m not afraid of you, you know. I never have been, I actually find it pretty sexy of you to beat up bad guys for me and keep the neighborhood safe-er. Ben thinks so too, minus the sexy part of course. Only I get to enjoy that.”

You relax more into his side and once again start to feel a bit more at ease with yourself.

“Oh wait a second, here put these sunglasses on, your eyes are still playing mood rings with us. Don’t wanna freak out the civilians” He laughs.

“Thanks, I did wonder why that kid back there looked like he just saw a ghost.”

Klaus winks, “Maybe he did, cough cough..Ben...cough cough.”

“You’re an ass.” You say while rolling your eyes

“Yes indeed my love but remember I deal with the supernatural of all sorts, from ghosts to monsters, nothing phases me.” Klaus states proudly.

You laugh, “ Okay Van Helsing, this monster wants a bath with her hunter then.”

Klaus kisses your cheek, “That can be arranged my dear.”

Smiling up at him you hold him tighter and think to yourself how weird your life is, but you wouldn’t change it for anything.

- okay wow alright, first story ever I hope it’s good or at least some people like it. It was honestly fun to write ngl.

#the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy x you #the umbrella academy imagine #the umbrella academy x reader #klaus hargreeves imagine #klaus hargreeves x you #klaus hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves #number 4 #the seance #ben hargreeves #falcor the luck dragon stories #good enough hashtag to find my stories to right

[xiaomomowrites]

zhongli, come down

Genshin Impact | TartaLi/ZhongChi

Summary: “When I’m with you, I feel happy,” his eyes are fixated on the ceiling as he speaks. Childe, on the other hand, can’t look anywhere but at him. And although he speaks of his happiness, there are deep waves of sorrow rolling off of him. Zhongli’s makeup had washed off when he took a steaming shower, leaving Tartaglia to see the dark circles under his eyes and the faint wrinkles underneath. The light in his eyes had dulled without the bold presence of his usual red eyeliner, and it seemed as though his face appeared more sunken in when the light hit him at a certain angle. 

Childe’s heart pangs in his chest. Sometimes, his husband really looks his age.

Or, Zhongli and Childe visit Snezhnaya, but there’s a certain adeptus on Zhongli’s mind.

Find it on Ao3!

WARNING: this fic contains mentions of death/minor character death. Read at your own risk!

This part takes place between act V and act VI, which is still in the works~

A/N: I had meant to get this out earlier, but I live in Texas so we’ve been having sporadic power outages for the past three or four days. I had spotty connection and it was freezing in my house so this ended up a little delayed! Plus, act VI really just doesn’t wanna be written :( I want it to be perfect before I post it though, I don’t wanna give y’all mediocre Tartali food lol. But I hope you all enjoy, I’ll be adding a little message at the end if you’re interested, so stay tuned. -u.n.

--

Zhongli felt another full-body shiver rack through him when the wind whistled by again ruthlessly. Archaic divinity and equity aside, he wanted nothing more but to spit and curse the harsh ice beneath his feet. He had all but lost feeling in his fingers and toes as he stood still in the snow, waiting for Childe to finish grabbing them coffee. The Harbinger had offered the drink out of the kindness of his heart when he had seen how badly Zhongli was shivering, as if they hadn’t come here together before. Zhongli accepted the coffee with enthusiasm, knowing it makes Childe happy when he accepts his gifts.

He found himself at the doorstep of Snezhnaya with Childe, visiting his family for the year as they did each November. Unfortunately, November through February seemed to be the harshest that the winters got. The weather would breach zero degrees and drop past negative ten, the wind would lash furiously past parkas and scarves and mittens and kiss bare skin. And Zhongli, in all his divine beauty, would miss the warm summer nights of Liyue so much that he needed to remind himself of how much he loved his husband just to agree to get on the train with him. 

Childe, his darling ginger, simply hummed alongside him and tucked Zhongli’s arm beneath his own to keep him from slipping on the ice. His time in Liyue had not shaken his immunity to the cold at all. His other hand sipped at the warm coffee encapsulated in green cardboard, humming a happy noise from the back of his throat. Even if it was a one time occurrence years ago that ended with minor bruising along the ex-Archon’s back, Childe never let him live the moment down and swore to hold onto him every second they found themselves in his hometown. Zhongli had insisted that he need not pace himself just to walk alongside an old man like him, but he had just pinched his cheeks, kissed his nose, and reminded him that he wasn’t that old. 

“You’ve got that sexy rich-middle-aged-man thing going on for you. Except, all your money comes from me, and you’re actually six thousand years old,” Tartaglia had told him then, beaming up at him so brightly it made Zhongli blink. 

Soon enough, Zhongli finds himself at his in-law’s residence. He takes a deep breath, preparing for the onslaught of Childe’s siblings enthusiasm, and waits for Childe to knock. The Harbinger grins at his anticipation and raps his knuckles against the comforting wood. Not even a beat later and the oak swings open, revealing Teucer, Tonia, and Anthon. They’ve all gotten so big since he last saw them, watching them grow fills the ex-Archon with pride. Zhongli finds himself smiling, squeezing Childe’s hand partially because he’s overwhelmed with joy, and also so he doesn’t slip and fall on his ass too hard when he’s tackled. 

Seconds later he finds himself with an armful of red headed siblings. He stumbles, but thankfully Childe’s there to steady him upright. Zhongli squeezes his hand again in thanks. 

“Mr. Zhongli!” One of them screeches in his ear, “You’re back! Do you have any presents for us?”

“Mr. Zhongli!” Another one yells, “did you bring me a new book?” 

Luckily, Tartaglia’s mother begins barking at her children to reign them back inside and to  ‘leave the nice man alone’, so that he has time to readjust and step inside the warmth of their cozy abode. Zhongli smiles, cheeks red and ears redder, and bows as deep as he can. 

“Thank you for having me,” the honey-like voice glides against the wooden walls like it belongs there, “it is a pleasure to see you all again.” 

“Oh stop,” his mother-in-law gushes, “we’ve seen you every year for years now, honey, drop the formalities!” she waves him off while pulling her own son into a bone crushing hug. “And it’s good to see you too, hun.”

“Hi mom,” Childe responds sheepishly, careful not to squeeze her too hard, lest her back start cracking again. He raises a hand to cradle the back of her head with a fondness reserved only for her. “Where’s dad?” 

The question hangs above their heads heavily. A beat of silence passes before she smiles warily and squeezes her son’s cheeks. “He’s at the fireplace, Ajax.”

Childe nods, and eyes the urn sitting high above the crackling fireplace. It’s a beautiful marble urn that Tartaglia paid for in full, with a single ruby gem nestled right beside his father’s name. Even in this state, his father has the largest presence in the house. It is a presence even Zhongli can acknowledge and respect. The thought pushes Zhongli to squeeze his hand and mutter, “Go?” 

Tartaglia nods, and swallows hard. Zhongli urges him forward carefully with a gloved hand against the small of his back. His mother watches him go along with sullen and somber eyes. And it is only when Childe is stationed in front of the fire, a single gloved hand covering his mouth, when Zhongli breaks the silence. 

“So,” Zhongli begins, turning to his in-law. “The last time we spoke, you promised me a recipe for that delicious meal you served us last year. Were you able to hold up your end of the contract?” 

The red-headed woman beams up at him and grabs at his hands. Her hands are so small, so soft and delicate, Zhongli wishes nothing more but to protect this family with his life. And well, that makes two of them. 

“Of course, dear,” she says excitedly, “come with me.”

The next hour or so consisted of Zhongli patiently waiting in the kitchen while his mother-in-law bustled around, excitedly explaining the process of dough rolling, frying, meat filling, and then frying again. Zhongli watched with fascination, always one to appreciate cultures from all around the world. He hummed and nodded in confirmation every once in a while when she would turn to him, asking him if he understood, and he smiled. 

Tartaglia came padding into the kitchen later, eyes slightly red and puffy, and Zhongli didn’t need to ask if something was wrong to understand what was going on. He knew all too well of his feelings of conflict toward his father in the past. Now that the man himself was gone, Zhongli could only imagine the things Childe was feeling at the moment. 

Zhongli never exactly had a family to grieve, anyway. As far as he knew, all the family he had was in this very house alone. 

And Xiao, the voice in his head whispered, snapping him out of his reverie. Zhongli blinked the voice away. Now was not the time. 

“Talking behind my back, Xiansheng?” Childe teases, coming up behind him to snake his arms around his waist. “That’s not very husband-like of you, you know.”

“Yes, yes,” Zhongli played along, “your mother and I were just discussing how unruly you are in the morning, and how you leave wet towels on the floor after you shower. Truly a horrendous habit, Tartaglia.”

The ginger pouts over his shoulder and leans in to bite his cheek, reveling in the way Zhongli squeezes one eye shut in a faux flinch. He quickly kisses the flesh he sunk his teeth into and settles back against his husband. 

“Smells good, mom.” 

“It always smells good, Ajax,” she tuts, waving her spoon in his face, “what do you think of your mother, huh?”

“Why am I being attacked,” Tartaglia pouts, the end of the sentence lilting upward in a whine. Zhongli clicks his tongue at his behavior and pats his head reassuringly. 

“The food will be ready soon,” he reassures, “besides, she was just telling me all about a soup that I must try my hand at next year.”

Tartaglia groans dramatically and leans all his weight against Zhongli in response. 

—

Night falls, and Childe finds himself lighting the fireplace in the room they stay in upstairs, letting the flames embrace the room in an auburn glow. His siblings are tucked in and finally quiet after Zhongli’s endless stories of Liyue. His mother had turned in an hour earlier after smothering the two in kisses, and the couple had stayed in the kitchen for a bit sipping wine and conversing in the moonlight. After downing a good amount and feeling a light buzz through their systems, they called it a night and headed upstairs, pinkies linked as always. 

But Zhongli was off during the entire conversation. It may have seemed like he was himself to an outsider, but Tartaglia knew better. He knew when his husband was somewhere else. He had seen it too many times before.

So later, when Zhongli finds himself sitting on their windowsill rather melancholic, watching the snow fall, Childe regards him with a careful stare. The ex-Archon eyes the way the snow falls so tenderly yet so purposefully, as if they all held a secret that even an ancient being like him didn’t understand. He shivers at the cold that seeps in through the windows and kisses his fingertips where they meet the glass, and cradles his hand back to his chest slowly. 

“Zhongli,” Childe calls. The said man turns from the window, eyes bright and oddly wet. Oh, Childe knows that look. “C’mere,” he beckons. Zhongli obeys and pads over to where his husband is situated on their bed. He crawls onto the mattress next to him and slumps against the headboard, still deep in his thoughts. 

The Harbinger looks at him with concern and squirms over to where Zhongli sits. He uses his chest as a pillow, wrapping his arms around a lithe waist and tucking his nose in the crook of his neck. He breathes deeply the mature scent of silk flowers and feels his heart thump happily in his chest. Childe stays quiet for a moment, and allows himself to focus on the rise and fall of his sturdy chest. Zhongli runs the length of his palm up and down Tartaglia’s side as he ponders.

Childe decides to break the silence before he falls asleep. “What’s wrong?” he asks quietly, voice barely above a whisper. Zhongli’s hand comes up to his hair and scratches at his scalp the way he knows Childe likes it. 

“Nothing. I am just… thinking.” His voice trails off pensively.

“Hmm. As usual,” he hums, “what about?” Childe prods gently, knowing there’s a fifty-fifty chance his husband will indulge him.

He’s quiet for a moment. Far too quiet. Childe wonders if he should drop the subject.

“Xiao, actually,” he says suddenly. “I am thinking of Xiao.”

“Xiao,” Childe parrots, confused as to why the legendary adeptus lingers in his beloved’s head at a time like this.

Zhongli sighs, and his shoulders hunch forward, eyebrows furrowing in mild discomfort. “Whenever I am with you, I cannot help but think of him.”

Childe’s eyebrows shoot up to his forehead. “Elaborate?” He’s only mildly offended, but he jests nonetheless in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere.

Zhongli chuckles and pushes a thumb between Childe’s frown. “Not like that. You know there’s no one in my heart except you. Besides, he’s like… family to me. I simply care deeply for his well being.”

Childe offers a wry smile. He knows, he’s just teasing. “So what’s wrong?”

“When I’m with you, I feel happy,” his eyes are fixated on the ceiling as he speaks. Childe, on the other hand, can’t look anywhere but at him. And although he speaks of his happiness, there are deep waves of sorrow rolling off of him. Zhongli’s makeup had washed off when he took a steaming shower, leaving Tartaglia to see the dark circles under his eyes and the faint wrinkles underneath. The light in his eyes had dulled without the bold presence of his usual red eyeliner, and it seemed as though his face appeared more sunken in when the light hit him at a certain angle. 

Childe’s heart pangs in his chest. Sometimes, his husband really looks his age.

“When I’m with you, I forget all my troubles. My burdens are made lighter simply by your presence. I forget what it felt like to be a part of the Archon War, or what it was like having so much blood on my hands. When I’m with you, I forget all of that. And I am happy.” Zhongli’s tone of  voice certainly does not match the topic he speaks of.

Still, Childe gulps. The ex-Archon can be too sappy for his own good, he might have a heart attack.

“Xiao, on the other hand, carries burdens almost heavier than mine,” he speaks as if it were an irrefutable fact. Although Childe wants to protest, he allows him to continue. “Millennia of suffering. Centuries of torture. Generations worth of karma building up on his plate. And he has no one he can turn to to help him forget; no one to help him bear it. Xiao is… alone.” His voice cracks pathetically.

Ah. 

The wind turns colder. There’s a chill that goes through the room, and it seeps into Childe’s bones. The Harbinger’s eyes dart to the fireplace, almost accusing it of not doing its job. He’s mildly aware of the new presence outside of the window that reeks of karma and a heavy heart. The tidal waves of grief and remorse spill into the room, and Tartaglia almost wants to wave a hand in front of his face to waft the energy away. Nevertheless, Childe dismisses it knowing that it is harmless, and turns all of his attention on his partner. 

“What about that traveler,” Childe offers, “Xiao seems to be fixated on him.” 

Zhongli shakes his head. “Young Traveler is far too free spirited for that, and Xiao is the type to only give his heart when he is certain that the source is stable and everlasting.”

Childe nods in understanding. He’s the same way, after all. “He was right to give his heart to you.”

“And yet I betrayed him, did I not?” Zhongli asks.

Childe frowns once again. He wills his voice to not sound too accusing when he asks, “In what way?” 

Zhongli waves his free hand in the air, trying his best to convey the emotions that had been eating at him all evening. 

“I am here, parading away with my husband while he still watches over Liyue per my request. Even though our contract ended, he still persists. He still fights the demons of the gods I slayed myself. He still is trapped by the shackles of Liyue, cleaning up my mess, worshipping my name, while I lay here wondering if I want coffee or tea when the sun rises.” 

His voice wavers. Childe’s heart tugs. The Harbinger shuffles closer and squeezes him tighter. 

“I can’t help but feel as though I am responsible for his suffering. I am the one who summoned him, am I not? The fierce Yakshas… oh how truly amazing they were,” Zhongli rambles, fingers tightening their hold on Childe. “And now they are all…”

“Zhongli.” He cuts him off sternly. The man in question shakes out his reverie, glassy amber eyes meeting cerulean. Childe brings a hand to his cheek to caress the sinfully soft skin there. The ginger leans in, pressing his forehead against his temple and pleads.

“Stop,” he whispers, and then his hand finds purchase on his husband’s neck. “Stop.” 

“I am not worthy of it any longer, Ajax,” Zhongli’s voice warbles, “all I want is for Young Xiao to rest and finally find peace. I no longer want him to have nightmares, asleep or not. I want to be the one to be rid of his burdens. I want him to be happy, Ajax, I want—“

“No,” Childe interrupts again, “there is nothing you can do, my love. And I’m so sorry you feel that way. I truly am. But his suffering has nothing to do with you anymore. Xiao looks up to you—“

“But he shouldn’t.” 

“Xiao looks up to you,” he persists, “for a reason. He adores you, okay? No matter what you do. No matter what you say. No matter how you look. Even if you’re skin and bone and wrinkly with gray hair, Xiao would still admire you. Your strength has withstood the test of time, and so has his loyalty to you.” He brushes a stray hair from Zhongli’s face and continues.

“You were the one that saved him. Have you ever thought of that, old man? You saved him and named him. I mean, if someone were to pull me out of the abyss and give me a hug for god’s sake, I probably would have turned out different,” Zhongli’s eyes soften even more, but Childe refuses to make this about him. He thumps a fist against Zhongli’s chest in mock petulance. “Xiao respects you because you deserve it. It is as simple as that.”

Zhongli is quiet, pondering, so Tartaglia takes that as an invitation to continue. 

“You have served your time bearing your burdens. You have saved souls and you have killed your own share of demons, and you fought to get where you are now. You deserve a break, Zhongli. And you don’t need to feel guilty that someone out there hasn’t been liberated of their own issues. You of all people understand Xiao’s strength. Probably more than Xiao himself, right? So have faith in him, Xiansheng. And know that you don’t have to carry the burden of freedom on your own. Burdens are meant to be shared, and I’m your husband, remember?”

“Oh, how could I forget,” Zhongli chuckles as he jests. His voice still warbles, but Tartaglia will take what he can get. Childe pinches his cheek playfully. 

“Sooo,” Childe trails off, running a finger down the length of Zhongli’s pale neck. “With that being said, I think you should enjoy the time you have now, with me, instead of reminiscing about the past.”

Zhongli nods. 

“After all, I won’t be here forever-”

“Do not.” Zhongli interrupts, looking away. His chest stops fluctuating, and it takes a moment for Childe to realize he was holding his breath. And just like that, his defensive wall is back up again. Tartaglia looks at him with wide eyes. Obviously he had struck a chord he hadn’t meant to. The grip Zhongli had around the back of his neck tightened like he meant to keep him close to his chest forever; greedy, selfish hands continue to grasp at the back of his shirt.

“Oh,” Tartaglia breathes, “I’m sorry, I was just joking.”

“I know,” Zhongli all but whimpers, “but my brain doesn’t exactly register those kinds of things as jokes.”

Tartaglia nods, unsure of what else to say. So, he ditches the thought of saying anything, and lifts a deft finger to tilt Zhongli’s face back to him. He abandons his words and leans in instead. He captures his God’s lips with his own and presses close, desperate to show him that he’s there. Tartaglia’s alive and well and very much in love, and he’s there. He’s not going anywhere; he wouldn’t even dare to think about going anywhere. Their marriage was more than a contract, it was a covenant. The vows that were sworn on that night kept them glued together, and only ‘til death do they part. 

Well, until Ajax’s death, at least.

The thought makes Tartaglia’s head pound, and he shakes the thoughts away with determination.

“I’m here,” he reassures anyway when they part, kiss-bruised lips brush against his cheek as he speaks. “Let me prove it to you.”

Zhongli nods wordlessly, cupping Childe’s face with one hand and dragging the Harbinger onto his lap with the other. They press against each other, nice and close, so that one would not be able to decipher where one began and the other ended. 

“I love you,” Tartaglia confesses into the dark, breathless. Zhongli drags him impossibly closer. 

Xiao takes that as his cue to leave, the wind chill harsh and no longer gentle as he vanishes into thin air.

--

A/N: Okayy I’m gonna get a little serious in the end notes hehe so if you wanna skip out on that, thank you so much for reading! And I hope you have a wonderful week :) find me on twitter @/xiaoscribbles and AO3 @/unironicallynapping

I wanted to write this because I’ve been on my own journey to recovery lately. My family suffered many losses in 2020 and since then, I had been struggling to get back on path and find a healthy mindset. But there’s a passage that I read in a book I’ve been reading that covers the guilt we sometimes feel when we recover, knowing and know that there’s someone out there who is suffering, too. The guilt can become unbearable, but it doesn’t need to be felt. You can take your feelings of guilt and turn it into something good. You can enjoy the life of recovery you’re living while still being there for those who need it. You can show someone you love them while also reveling in the happiness that you deserve. You don’t need to feel like you don’t deserve it just because you recovered, and someone else hasn’t. Everyone is on their own path, so rejoice in the fact that you’ve made it to your own happiness! 

I hope this fic/message spoke to some of you. It’s a really important message to me, and I just wanted to share :)

#genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #zhongli #childe #xiao #tartaglia #character study #domestic bliss #childe x zhongli #rex lapis #tartali #chili #zhongchi

[flightrules]

Which Kind Do You Want to Be?

Chapter 6: No Promises

Sometimes, a sleepless night is a good thing.

Summary: This is a story about trust and kindness, loneliness and loss, belief and transgression. And two people crossing paths just long enough to find each other.

Previous chapters: I keep hearing tumblr suppresses posts with links. So, visit the pinned post on my blog or the same username on AO3.  

Relationships and characters: Din/female reader (both similar age to Din in canon), Grogu, and a cameo from Peli.

Rating: Mature? Explicit? Anyhow, grown-up sexy stuff. Please be old enough to be reading this kind of thing.

Tags and warnings: Moments of angst, domesticity, kindness, explicit consent, and Din doing his best to be a conscientious parent in the midst of everything. Heads up for descriptions of canon-typical violence, mention of past dubious consent, and a moment of (unintentional) violence between our protagonists. Ending is bittersweet.

Supper is the same as the midday meal, cold rations washed down with tinny tasting water. "You eat like this all the time?"

"I try not to," he says. "He needs real food. I haven't had much chance to go shopping."

The child is sitting on your lap now, as you hold his little tray for him and he picks out bites to eat. He's seemed subdued ever since your game of chase went so wrong. 

It's a bit of a balancing act to manage your own meal while keeping the tray steady and the little body balanced. But you turned down the man's offer to take him.

You should be careful about letting the child think there's something changing here, that you'll be a presence in his life. 

It's just so nice to imagine, for a small moment, that you could be. That a child's laughter could be part of your world again.

There's not much conversation over the meal. You're tired and your body still has that vague achy feeling, like it isn't ready to forget getting thrown to your knees. 

The ration trays get washed in the sink again, and then the child gets a bath in the sink again, too.  

"You don't mind, do you?" he asks first. "He doesn't like the sonic shower. I think it's hard on his ears."

You stay at the table while he pushes his sleeves up past his elbows, pops the child into a mess of warm water and soap bubbles, and lets him splash around a bit. By the time the man lifts him out again, there are bubbles all across the counter and water on the floor. "I've told you not to do that," he says mildly as he wraps the child in a towel and, holding him in one arm, swipes a rag across the counter and then uses one foot to wipe the rag along the floor. 

He crouches to pick the rag up again, a perfectly balanced movement with the child cuddled against his chest. 

"I'll let you get him ready for bed," you say, getting up from the table and resisting the urge to go over there and melt yourself against this man. You are not his family, or the child's, and you need to remember it for yourself as much as for the little one.

The bedtime routine consists of a quiet, one-sided conversation, the man narrating all the little things they did today and the child cooing in response. You take the opportunity to use the ‘fresher while he’s busy in the little sleeping room, then spread out your bedroll, stuffing some clean clothes in a carry-sack to serve as a pillow. It's early, but you stretch out and close your own eyes, letting your back and shoulders rest flat against the blanket. 

There's something comforting about his voice, the slight gravel in it, the way almost everything he tells the child is framed as "we." You've never been sure how much the child understands, but you hope he can at least hear how safe he is in this man's care.

You're almost asleep, yourself, by the time he gets to how he hurt you. "I made a mistake," he says, clear and matter-of-fact. "I'll always protect you, but that doesn't mean it's all right to hurt our friend. I want you to know we can trust her. Don't make the same mistake I did."

*

That's very sweet, you think drowsily. As if the tiny creature could do you any harm. 

"Are you awake?"

You open your eyes to find he's standing a couple of meters away. Earlier today you might have thought that strange, but now you think, Right. No sudden moves.

"May I…" his voice trails off.

You sit up, making room for him to join you. And now it's your turn to ask, as he's left a careful few centimeters space between. "I'd like to touch you."

His voice is quiet, his usual confident tone sounding suddenly half strangled. "I'd like that."

You don't do it right away, though. You look at him, contemplating. There are curls falling over his forehead again. The scruff of beard he had yesterday is gone. Did he shave for you, or is that just something he does every few days? With the helmet covering his face all the time, he certainly wouldn't have to worry about looking neat. 

Loose as it is, the shirt he's wearing does nothing to hide his solid-looking shoulders, and you've already seen the shape of his chest and waist from the t-shirt he had on this morning. Stars, that was so long ago.

You turn your body toward him and reach out, so slowly, to skim your hands over his hips and under his shirt, pushing the fabric up to bare the flat plane of his stomach, and then a little more so your hands are framing the bottom of his ribs. "Help me?" you say, meaning help me get your shirt off, but he's just staring at you, lips slightly parted, not moving at all.

"You tell me if you want me to stop," you remind him, and then get up onto your knees so you can lift his shirt further. The bruises from earlier remind you to move carefully, but you're able to shift your weight so it almost doesn't hurt to kneel.

He has dark hair across his chest. You resist the urge to run your thumb across one nipple, instead asking him more clearly to lift his arms so you can get the shirt over his head.

He does, now, taking over with a single smooth movement and then actually stopping to fold the thing and set it aside. 

There's something about that that makes your heart hurt. That makes you think you could fall in love with him, if you had the opportunity to try.

You do finally have the chance to see what happens when you drag your teeth across his ribs. You start at his collarbone, lining kisses from neck to shoulder, then down over the muscles of his chest. As you do you can feel his breathing quicken, turning to a gasp as you go from soft kisses to the scrape of teeth. You should probably remind him to breathe but now you're tracing your tongue along a pale line of scar where, you realize, the beskar breastplate doesn't reach.

His hands on your shoulders stop you. He's gentle but firm, guiding your body back upright, giving you plenty of time to fight it if you want to. 

You don't want to. 

"Show me how to kiss you," he says. 

"It takes practice." Kissing a new partner's mouth usually starts out clumsy and uncoordinated, until you find each other's rhythm.

"We have until morning," he says. 

It is, indeed, uncoordinated at first. He's obviously got the general idea--you can't spend 40-something years in this galaxy without seeing what people do--but no idea how to actually do it. He's a quick learner, though, echoing back your movements until he's got the hang of it. And then that precision kicks in and he's got your mouth trapped beneath his, tongue at the corner of your lips and then gently opening you up to his warmth, and you're the one who's forgetting how to breathe.

It's new to him and it's been a while for you, and the two of you end up making out like teenagers for a while, his hand against your jaw and your fingers in his hair, and when you need to catch your breath you bury your head in his shoulder until gently insistent hands lift your face to his again.

What stops you is a small sound from the child. You might not even have noticed it, coming from behind the metal door, but he's already turning his head to listen. He kisses your forehead before getting up to trigger the controls.

The noises from the hammock sound like sobs. 

"Hey," the man tells him, sitting on the edge of the mattress, leaning in to lay a hand over the little body. "Whatever it is, I'm here." He turns to you. "He cries in his sleep sometimes. Usually I sing to him."

"Then you should." You get up to go sit beside him on the floor and lean your head against his knee. It's the same lullaby you heard that first night on board the Razor Crest. He can barely carry a tune but that's all right, you don't know the melody anyway and you don't understand the words. You stay there for a while even after the child's cries have stopped, as he continues through a half-dozen verses, you resting against him and his hand against your hair.

*

More of the evening disappears into figuring out his body, into his hands finding confidence in how to touch your skin. 

The last time someone touched you with such reverence, you were probably sixteen years old, trying new things for the first time with a boy you'd grown up with, whose body you'd seen change as you both slipped toward adulthood. He's long gone, that boy, not even buried, just lost in the ash that used to be your home.

Your shirt's off now, too, and he folded it for you, and you can't even explain why that makes you ache inside.

He's tracing your breasts with his fingertips, light against your skin but following every curve. He seems to know, by instinct maybe, to leave your nipples until they're aching for him to touch, and then to follow his fingers with his mouth, with his tongue and then lips and then, so very gently, with his teeth. He's got you panting, your fingers digging hard into his shoulder until you suddenly realize that's the side that was bothering him and you drop your hand. 

He looks up at you, and it takes him a minute to find words. "What's wrong?"

You're slow to make sense, too. "You--you're hurt, I don't want to--" 

He looks down at his own shoulder, the one you were working on together this morning. Then he's pulling you in to him, so very slow again and careful, until you're skin to skin against his body, your breasts pressed up against the muscle of his chest, his head bent down to yours. "Thank you," he says, and it's a whisper against your temple and then just the two of you breathing together for a while, the hum off the ship's engines the only other sound.

You know the shapes of the muscles on his back now. You've run your fingers along the grooves between them. You know now how his skin feels different over scars, and how the burn scar at his neck is different from the knife scar on his side. 

You were surprised to find the small, circular bump of a contraceptive implant on his arm, and at first you looked at him in accusation. From what he’s told you, he shouldn’t have needed it. But he just shrugged. "When I swore the Creed," he said, "I swore I would care for any child I made. I've never been in a place to be able to care for a child." You could feel your eyebrows go up as you nodded toward his bunk, where the tiny being in his care was sleeping. "I'm still not," he said. "It seemed like a good idea, to make sure it couldn't happen." 

He knows the most sensitive spot on your neck by now, and he knows the way you'll move your head if he kisses you there. He knows that if he runs his hands over your belly you'll jump at first, ticklish, but then lean into his touch if he uses a little more pressure. He's figured out what happens if he traces the shell of your ear with his tongue. 

Right now you're kneeling behind him, one hand on his chest, one finger sliding over a stiffened nipple while the other hand traces the hair that trails down his abdomen to the waistband of his trousers. For the first time, you slide your fingertips beneath the fabric. His hand comes up to wrap around your wrist and hold your arm still.

But he doesn't tell you to stop. 

You tuck your chin over his shoulder and ask him if you should.

He doesn't answer. He's sitting up straighter, though, that uncomfortable posture you'd started to hope he'd left behind.

Carefully, you move your hands from his body, and his fingers slide from your wrist as you do. You shift around to face him. 

Slow. You promised him slow. 

Your own body is edging toward impatience. You've been wet for him for hours and, although you're not complaining about any of this so far, there's a sense of emptiness that your body is letting you know, in no uncertain terms, it would like him to fill.

You check in before you move next, get his permission to settle yourself back on his lap, knees to either side of his hips. It lets you press against the length of him through his trousers, and you find you're shivering as the most sensitive part of you connects there.

His voice is a vibration through your own chest as he says, "I can't."

You know you should let go, move back, but your muscles won't listen to your brain until he speaks again, until ingrained reflex takes over when he says the word "Stop." 

He's keeping his hands to himself now, still breathing a little hard but keeping his body constrained. One hand clenches and then slowly opens, coming to rest at his side.

"If we keep going," he says, "I'm going to want you to stay."

Your heart skips for a second, and you're already thinking, yes.

"I can't let you stay." He's sitting so still. His fingers move again, what seems to be an involuntary tic. It's his right hand, the one that would reach for the blaster that's usually at his hip.

"I can't be distracted. If I had to choose between you and the child--"

He doesn't finish. You don't need him to. You reach over, slowly, slowly, and take his right hand. Slowly, you help him open those clenched fingers, and you place a kiss on his palm. "No promises," you remind him. And then, because there's nothing else you can say: "I'm leaving at Pavotha."

It's still so curious, getting to see his face. How sometimes his expressions are open and sometimes they're unreadable, like in all those years with the helmet on he's lost the ability to mirror certain feelings. Lost the muscle memory.

Right now, though, there's no mistaking that you're looking at pure gratitude.

"Do you still want to stop?" you ask him, and you're asking a little bit for him, but it's mostly because your body is longing to see the rest of his, to touch him in new places. To settle in against him, take his cock inside you, and move together until the rest of the galaxy disappears.

"No promises?" he says.

And, although your whole body is screaming at you not to say it, you tell him again: "Only that I'm leaving."

*

If you were planetside, it would be dawn by now. But here in the dimly lit hold, there's only the chrono to tell you it's near morning.

You're not looking at it though.

You're sitting on his lap again, legs around his waist and feet planted against the floor. His hands are on your hips. You showed him how this position works and now he's helping you move, bringing you down against him so his cock is buried deep inside you, holding you so there's pressure against your clit as he presses closer, then lifting your body so the length of him slides against your opening, setting every nerve on fire. You didn't teach him to pause sometimes, keeping your hips in place against him, and lean up to kiss you. He figured that out on his own.

He lasted longer than you might have expected the first time, when you drew his body over you and slow disappeared when he said "Are you sure?" and you said "Yes." And although you guided him in gently, carefully, neither one of you could stop after that. You bit your own lip so hard, trying not to cry out and wake the child, that there was blood on both your faces by the end.

You're going to have to sleep soon, before the child wakes up and the new day starts. But for now you're going to stay like this, your skin slicked with your sweat and his, the taste of him in your mouth, and the sacredness of trust between you.

#the mandalorian #fanfic #din djarin x reader #din djarin needs a hug #touch-starved din djarin #reader character also needs a hug.

[blackcatanna]

LET THE ORGY OF SADNESS CONTINUE: Okita's Route Part 3: Edo Blossoms

I'm very interested to see how this plays out. Tbh, I don't really get this relationship yet but that seems consistent with how I felt before Edo Blossoms in the other routes so, yes, I am excited! :D I hope that Kaoru doesn't die X_X I want at least one route with Kaoru redemption but I am not at all optimistic...

Chapter 1:

"Something else entirely had me preoccupied..." Could it be... one spicy, stabby boi?

Wait, are we... LIVING TOGETHER? 👀

Quick question: do silver bullets affect demons or just furies?

BWWWWAAAARRRP!!! PHYSICAL CONTACT ALARM! "I held his soft, trembling fingers in my hands," Whoa there. Please calm down. I cannot allow this level of unbridled eroticism in my Good Christian Suburb.

In all seriousness, though, I GUESS this is SOMEWHAT sweet and romantic but I want everyone to know that I'm saying this under duress. >:( If I fancied him, this would wring the fuck out of my heart.

"Are you sure? You aren't just saying that?" Glad to see that Doctor Chizuru studied under Doctor Gregory "Everybody Lies" House.

"Why is it that you're always here when I wake up?" If you can't figure it out, I sure as hell am not going to tell you!

"Okita seemed to take pleasure from my surprise, and he stared into my eyes." X_X Of course he did... Because he loves to provoke reactions.

"Answer me." MAKE ME >_<

"looking off to the side in a fit of feigned indifference." < Okita in a nutshell

Is he upset because I said that I was here because of worry and guilt? Because, tbh, fair enough. Those were pretty dumb things to say, making out like it's a burden instead of admitting that I actually like being around him >:(

"Well, I guess that's fine then." X_X Oh, come on! Don't use the f-word on me like that! D:

"She's lying." YAMAZAKI!!! >_<

"Look, I know you can't stop thinking about me, but this whole doting-all-day-and-night thing is tiring." Called. The fuck. Out. X_X

Tbf, it seems kind of hypocritical to be fussing over someone while refusing to let them even inquire about your own health. Plus, it's a very one sided arrangement, which is not healthy X_X

"stop throwing a bitch fit" XD Okita is my new hero :')

"I didn't know that my behaviour became a cause for concern for them, too." Then, perhaps, you are foolish and inconsiderate -_-

O: Okita!?? Did he faint?! O_O

Woo! Going on an adventure with YAM! :)

There had better not be any creepy bald fuckers waiting in mah house! >:(

Are all doctors bald in 1860s Japan????

I'm so happy that Yamazaki's still alive in this route :) TOUCH WOOD.

"*Grunt* *Cough*..." Ah, I knew it was only a matter of time before I caught tb -_- (jk)

No, never split the party! D:

"However the price to pay is life itself." DUN, DUN, DUUUUUUUUUN!!! So much for it granting "immortality"

"the poisonous Water of Life" uh... Isn't that kind of an oxymoron X_X

"Retaining your sanity is impossible without feasting on blood." Ah, so all along, the Shinsengumi were just feeding the furies a poor diet.

O: ):< WHO DARES THUMP MY YAMAZAKI?

Of course. It's fucking Kaoru -_-

Blah blah, sadistic fuckery, blah blah. I'm starting to get real tired of your shit, BROTHER.

"Was he trying to play a trick on me?" -_- probably, yeah.

Wow, that's... Actually pretty helpful? Thanks!?

Okay, the doctor folk have gone! I give Okita delicious blood now? :)

Oh. HE GAWN!!! O:

WHY ARE YOU UP AND DRESSED? >_<

"Sleeping all day is such a drag." True, so DRINK MY BLOOD AND GET BETTER >:(

Bloodlust time :O Good thing I'm a walking blood pack! :D

"How long have you been doing this?" Uh, haven't you been watching over him night and day?

"I wrapped my arms around Okita and held him tight " BWAAAA- Okay, yes, physical contact. Hug = gud >:(

"Pease, drink this " DRINK THE BLOOD >:(

"I could feel his breath brushing across my skin..." o_o Saucy...

Why are the blood drinking descriptions so erotic XD I mean, I'm not complaining but-

Who is this strange, apologetic man?

Blood > Porridge

Heh heh, apparently, Hijikata acts "all hoighty-toighty"

Oooh! Looks like Okita's trying to break free of his diligent YAM nursing...

"I am calm" Okita, last time you said that, you went on a killing spree...

Ooh, I wonder why Yamazaki and Okita don't get along... I remember seeing a picture somewhere with casual Yamazaki abuse in the background...

"Okita was acting like a petulant child, throwing his toys out of the pram..." X_X Sexy...

"Do you think the Shinsengumi still needs me?" HONEY, the Shinsengumi needs all the help it can GET!! O_O

Omg, Yamazaki's threatening to tell on Okita! XD He's playing a dangerous (and childish) game!

Side note: the painting in Okita's room is distracting me because it kind of reminds me of the dead mice my cats bring in on a regular basis.

WAIT, IT'S A FISH!!! X_X A NICE, INNOCENT LITTLE KOI FISHY X_X I need to stop spending so much time with my cats...

"What, already? Can't I stay up just a little longer?" Hakuoki: Mum simulator!

"I'll turn in on one condition..." Oo-er :O

"Okita grinned mischievously, and he peered directly into my eyes." O_O OO-ER!

"My palms became sweaty, and my heart skipped a beat." IT MUST BE LOVE O_O

"Since you're here, mind laying down next to me?" DUN DADA DUN! *fanfare plays* We got there in the end, folks! :D

DON'T YOU DARE SAY NO XD

"That's not a funny joke." True. And the only way to teach him a lesson is to PRETEND to take him seriously by DOING AS HE SAYS >:)

"You're so dense." FACTS.

WELL DONE, CHIZURU, YOU DONE COCK-BLOCKED YERSELF, I said, berating the fictional character as if that's not totally something that I would do in real life ..

"Okita blushed, turning away in embarrassment." O: CTRL+Z CTRL+Z CTRL+Z ):<

"I want to, erm, talk to you for a little bit longer..." Oh, we can "talk" all night long ;)

"Talk...? With me?" But I'm only a stupid woman, huh dur, with naught to say but um and er! Actually, Chizuru does say ""um..." I couldn't think of anything to say" in this route A LOT so maybe FAIR PLAY.

Just realised that I accidentally made a rhyme.

"Okita sighed, frustrated" HONESTLY, ME TOO.

"How clearly do I have to spell this out for you." I'm beginning to wonder that myself. He just wants some company, Chizuru! Is that SO HARD to imagine? X_X

"He began to run his fingers through my hair." Oooh! Physical contact :3 Chizuru = pet cat!

"as the tip of his finger touched my skin, my heart skipped." Yeeeesssss... Feel the thirst flow through you... 3:)

Are we gonna get a thirsty Western uniform pan, now? :P

"I tried facing him directly, but for some reason my heart was thudding in my chest..." :O Oh my! I cannot think of a possible explanation! You should get that checked out! >:P

"you find me sexy right now, don't you?" AH-HAH! >:D Caught red handed!

Ugh, can't believe he tricked me into saying he looks good. >:(

UGH. Doctor Matsumoto still needs to perform a final exam on Okita?! Just let him go already X_X

Wow, has Okita been seething against Hijikata this whole time? That... Can't be healthy -_-

"Okita had the tendency to act rashly and avoid looking at the bigger picture, particularly when Hijikata was involved." No shit. He's going to be such a handful X_X

"You're coming, right?" Of course. I'm not just going to sit around here while everyone I care about gets killed O_O besides, you need my nutritious and delicious blood to keep you nice and healthy ^_^

"she can't keep her eyes off me for long enough, to the point where she'll follow me wherever I go" Yeah, because that's how you win at this game >:P

"Aw, is that some blushing I see? It's the truth." Yup.

"Well, yeah," SHE ADMITTED IT!!! 8D

"So, Yukimura. It appears you have some feelings for Okita, is this true?" OH, FRICKING GREAT!!! NOW I'M BEING INTERROGATED BY MY DAD'S EX- COLLEAGUE ABOUT MY LOVE LIFE X_X IF THE GROUND COULD SWALLOW ME NOW, THAT'D BE GREAT! OKITA IS SUCH A DICK XD

OKITA. STOP.

Doctor, why you gotta be so serious? O:

"Criminy..." Uh... Is that a real word?...

Omg, it is a real word! I have never heard anyone use it but, tbf, this is the 1860s :P

Okita needs to stop saying that every decision that Kondou makes that he doesn't like is because Hijikata "coerced" him. He's a grown man. He can think for himself. Please respect his autonomy X_X This is not healthy.

Uuuuuugh. Kaoru >_< Seriously, get a life!

"I'm here to watch the Shinsengumi flail around like pathetic losers as they watch their friends die." ... KAORU, THAT DOES NOT COUNT AS A HOBBY >_<

"Looks like you made it in time for the show, though. You'll be able to witness the glorious execution of the Shinsengumi's idiot chief." Or, in other words, we arrived in time to try and rescue him >:)

"You look nice. All your little boo-boos patched up?" Uhh... There's a lot to unpack here...

"Okita reveled in the vicious display, allowing Kaoru's blood to shower him as he swung repeatedly at the Demon." O_O Umm... Okita? Maybe CHILL THE FUCK OUT. O_O HE IS MY BROTHER, YOU KNOW?!

Aaaand, seemingly Kaoru's going to milk that fact... -_-

Did he... Stab me in the mouth?!?? What am I looking at here? X_X

Also, why doesn't he just activate his demon form!?!

Wait, is he feeding me the Ochimizu?!

Kaoru says that the water of life will eat away at Okita's body faster than if he'd just succumbed to TB but that's clearly not true if he's living long enough to see the end of the Shinsengumi. Plus, a short life of action is better than spending the rest of your days fading away in a sickbed.

"Okita comforted me with the soft tickle of his hands as they wiped away each tear with a warm touch." :3 Pretty darn wholesome! I will concede this point!

"you're a sweetheart." :3 Thank.

"You're a good girl" And am I supposed to wag my tail at that? X_X

"I... I am in love with Okita." O: Damn, that'll go straight to his head X_X

"more than anything or anyone" not that that's saying much :P Sorry, romantic moment, must resist shit talking urges!

"I believed that if I died, no one would give a shit." </3 O: )': DX Neveeeeeerrrrr!!!!

I prescribe HUG INJECTION >:(

"You look like shit" -_- Way to kill the mood.

"Here, come closer." :D Okay, I forgive you! <3

Oh, he played the uno reverse card on my hug plan :O

"How could I keep myself calm when the man I loved held me delicately in his arms?" BIG. MOOD.

Awe, he didn't kill Kaoru because "my heart knew it didn't want you to hate me..." <3 <3 <3 >.<

"My heart melted." SAME.

Chapter 2:

Damn, we're only on Chapter 2 and things are already getting pretty fluffy...

"Do you want me to sleep next to you?" DO IT. XD I dare you :P

"I wonder if Okita thought of me as nothing more than a silk kimono and a warming stone, as if that was all I could offer..." Girl, come on! Don't sell him short like this! Oh, and tell me more about what you want to offer him 3:)

Well, it looks like blood is the answer, for now O_O

"Y-You're not gonna offer me a-any blood today? Trying to play hard to get?" -_-

"his warm mouth drew my blood into his full, tender lips." X_X Sounds like someone needs a cold shower...

"I'm a diseased freak with no hope for the future." D: Don't say that! Everybody dies eventually! You still have strength to achieve the things you want and we can still be happy together! :'(

"I will be by your side, Okita... No matter what." YUS >:)

SEN!!! <3

"Would it have killed you to at least write us a letter?" O: I'm sorry! X_X

Ha. Bold of you to assume that Kodo's continued research might be in your favour.

"Kondou has surrendered to the Imperial Army." O_O OH FUCK.

And of course Okita is blaming Hijikata X_X

"You are making assumptions, most of which are uninformed" Yeah, you tell him, Sen-bae!

I still don't see why we can't at least try to rescue Kondou >:( Are we just supposed to sit tight and wait for him to be executed?!??

" I'm sure that Kondou would be very unhappy to hear his life was saved at the cost of Okita's." >:( And I'm sure that he would be even more unhappy to hear that Okita spent the rest of his days confined to his bed, in misery and anguish. >:(

The dream was pretty wholesome :'o

I guess protecting the things that are important to Kondou, like his legacy, is more important than protecting Kondou himself. Kondou entrusted his legacy to Okita, and so his efforts might be better spent elsewhere, rather than on rescuing Kondou. :'( That's up to him, though.

HUG ALERT!!! 8D

"No matter how many times he touched me, I couldn't have imagined ever tiring of the sensation..." XD The thirst is real!

"Y'know, ever since you came into my life, I've always given you a hard time..." WHERE IS THE LIE?

These two assholes in each other's arms, like "Welp, I'm not going to give you the satisfaction of telling you that I love you so we're just going to continue this totally not heterosexual hug right now and stfu."

:D I am happy to see Hijikata! However, I know someone who may feel differently -_-

"Would you like me to wake him." O_O Nooooot a good idea, Chizuru!

"Without me to blame, I doubt he'll have anything to motivate him, and I'm worried he'll lose the will to live." :O Hijikata, that's kind of sweet in a fucked up kind of way but you underestimate the power of LOVE >:)

THIS HAD BETTER NOT BE FUCKING KAORU AGAIN!!!

:O Kazama and Amagiri?! I was beginning to think that Kazama had lost interest in me. Or, at least, hoped he had.

"This evening... Isami Kondou was beheaded." I just gasped out loud! Kondou, no! D':

OMG, IS CHIZURU TRANSFORMING INTO A BADASS DEMON?! 8D 8D 8D

"A woman who has sullied herself with the water of life is unworthy of my love. Consider this over." ... IF I KNEW THAT THAT WAS ALL IT TOOK, I WOULD HAVE DRANK THAT FUCKING CONCOCTION YEARS AGO >_<

"You are dead to me." GOOD.

Awe, Okita! :'(

NOW I'M CRYING, TOO D'X Damn this game DX

Chapter 3:

Chasing down the Shinsengumi >:) ... Again! If this is anything like Kazama's route, this is going to be depressing af...

We're like two fuzzy wood creatures, going from cozy spot to cozy spot to snooze in during the day :')

"Be a good girl," >_< Staaaaaahhhp!!!

"They went thattaway!" XD I know that this situation is pretty dire but that sentence makes me chuckle!

"Fight...? You?" Ye bitch! >:) I got me my ochimizu powers now!

"How dare you, you bastard!" UM. YOU ATTACKED US!!! WE WERE TRYING TO HAVE A NAP!

*Slash, slash, squelch, splat* X_X

"Ahahaha! You're just helpless pigs!" -_- Uh, Okita? Calm the fuck down, k? You're starting to sound like Kazama!

"his sadistic display of sword mastery." Yup, they be the right words -_-

Ugh, I got shot. Probably shouldn't have been standing around doing NOTHING X_X

D: I killed a guy! GUYS, CHIZURU JUST STABBED SOMEONE IN THE HEART, COME AND SEE!!! :')

"Chizuru, you're trying to hard." *Hides guide* I don't know what you could possibly mean :) :) :)

:O a kunai?! Could it be... my boy YAM?!

YAM!!! :'D

"I just assumed you died or something." Okita is the queen of tact, as always :')

Wait, Yamazaki, don't stay behind on your own O':

NOOOOOOOOO O_O

YAMAZAKIIIIIIII!!!!

OMG HE'S OKAY!!! 8'D 8'D

"I... Cannot afford to die yet..." Doesn't stop you in most routes, though, does it? X_X

"This doesn't look good..." Oh no! Is he going to succumb to his injuries off screen?! D': Classic Yamazaki D,X

"You've been spying on us for days, and I didn't even notice." :') That's our Yam boy!

Aw, Okita gave Yamazaki the thank you!

I reeeeeaaally don't think that Kondou would want Okita to murder Hijikata X_X

"I am going to be late, but I promise to return." YOU HAD BETTER. >:( DON'T DIE, YAMAZAKI!

Owl <3 Hoot hoot to you too, my friend!

Don't kill Hijikata, you dumbass. -_-

"A penchant for violence" X_X That's Okita all right!

It would be funny if he were drinking from Chizuru's foot, instead... Just, something about the way he's holding her hand invites that image XD

FOR FUCK'S SAKE!!! WHY DOES A BATTLE HAVE TO ERUPT EVERYWHERE WE GO!?!

"Okita grabbed my hand" 8D < Happy Chizuru!

Wait... I'M GETTING BLOODLUST?!? MONSTER CHIZURU IS UNLEASHED >:)

Oh, I guess not. Kinda disappointed, tbh XD

Ugh, can we just catch up to Hijikata already? Let's get this over with.

Wait, his sister was "wedded off to some deadbeat"!?! I wonder how old she was... :/

"I was bullied and given shit all the time." :'(

The CG of Okita giving Hijikata the evils is BEAUTIFUL! X'D

"He was a rich snob" somehow, I doubt that...

Wow, Okita really is seething with passionate jealousy for Hijikata... Even though Kondou gave him the sword X_X

I feel like Kondou's relationship with Hijikata is different enough than Okita and Kondou's that Okita's intense jealousy seems a bit much...

It sort of feels kind of like a kid being jealous of their dad's new girlfriend X_X

MORE HUGS >:D

"Before I knew it, you slithered your way into my heart..." That's a pretty weird but also adorable thing to say X'D SLITHER SLITHER

"And you know just what to say," I KNOW, UNCANNY, RIGHT :) :) :) *hides guide*

"We couldn't help but succumb to the hypnotic lull of our passionate embrace." XD Does this mean a fade-to-black is coming :P

I love that their following Hijikata tracks like they're hunting the wild Hijikata beast XD

Is he all alone?

Oh, he has a bodyguard XD

Really inappropriate time to mention this but this route makes Hijikata seem more attractive to me than before XD Maybe it's because of the contrast with Okita's sadistic, violent, volatile side... Maybe it's because he seems more vulnerable when being berated by Okita, idk XD Leave Hijikata alone, Okita!

"You could have saved him!" But Hijikata has RESPONSIBILITIES. He can't just abandon his men and their cause to save Kondou, even if he wanted to :'(

"I COULDN'T!!!" Yeah, you tell him, Hijikata >:(

OKITA, DON'T PUNCH HIS BEAUTIFUL FACE!!! I mean, uh... XD

Wait, we're not going with the Shinsengumi?! O_e

"Hijikata's a real dumbass, don't you think?" -_- .......NO!

Kondou reading to tiny Okita = mega cuteness!

"If I never met Kondou, there's no doubt in my mind that I'd be waaaaay more cuckoo than I am now." And nobody, NOBODY WANTS TO SEE THAT O_O

"You and Kondou are pretty similar" Obviously, that's a compliment and I'm super flattered but I reeeeeaaally hope that this relationship isn't just because Chizuru reminds him of Kondou XP

"My heart suddenly melted in my chest." What, again!?! Chizuru's heart had been through A LOT during this route -_-

"To be fair, it was a little strange of Okita to compare a woman he loved to a man he viewed as a father..." <<< See?! :P

Skipping off, hand in hand :')

Chapter 4:

Aw, tiny Chizuru sadness flashback </3

It's unthinkably awful, what happened to the village, but revenge =/= genocide.

Chizuru, y u lie? -_-

"There were men who took pleasure from their evil deeds." And demons, too... And Okita, to an extent XD

Ugh, I bet Kaoru's gonna sneak up on me while Okita's gone and be all, "Yeeeeesssss.... Give in to your anger... Feel the hate flow through you..." Fucking annoying hate goblin child.

OH, LOOK WHO IT IS!!!

"You're a real bitch, you know that?" Oh, I'M A BITCH??!! Sure thing, tiny asshole. -_-

"At long last, we can come together. We can be the siblings were born to be." ... Happy and free from the burdens of hate and bitterness? O_O

"We are going to massacre the evil forces conspiring within this country, for the good of our people." ... What people? The dead ones? Yeah, I'm sure they'll be reeeeeeaaal grateful from their graves. Sounds like you just want an excuse to torment some humans, you sadistic piece of shit -_-

"Suddenly, I craved blood..." OH HO!

"I... I craved Okita's blood..." 'Sonly fair >:P

"my entire body screamed to tear Okita limb from limb." 8O Yikes.

I... Kinda want to know what happens if I give in to the bloodlust... 😏

Buuuuut I gotta endure it. Damn.

Oh, it's cold up North, is it? ;P What can we possibly do to stay warm in bed?

PENGUIN HUDDLE is hopefully the answer.

<3 :D Looking up at the stars together!

"I want to make your wishes come true. All of them..." :D Okita is every girl's dream sexy murder genie :)

""If you still plan on walking away from me and everything you have..." Okita reached his hand to me kindly." :) :) :)

"Then, I will kill you " FFS XD THIS BITCH!!!

I bet we're gonna kiss now or something. Damn that sexy murder genie X_X

Oh, no kissing, just crying XD That's... Actually more appropriate, even if they are happy tears :')

O WAIT, "I grabbed ahold of him madly" ...

SMOOCHY SMOOCHY >:)

"For once in my life, I felt whole," Awe </3 "the thought of which nearly brought my tears." BITCH, UR ALREADY CRYING XD

"each breath between our zealous smacking grew more strained and sensuous." O_e ... Uh, what did I just read? XD XD XD

"now that Kondou's gone... I only have one reason to fight." Uh... I have a feeling that it's a Chizuru reason... He really needs to find his own motivations, instead of just attaching himself to the causes of people who give him attention. Okay, that was a bit harsh. X_X I'm sorry, Okita!

"How about another kiss, huh?" "B-but, um... W-we just kissed..." ... SO!?! GIRL, YOU KNOW YOU'RE HOT FOR HIM!

"I'm askin' you if you'll have me or not." ... When he says "have", does he mean . . .

"Well, I think there's a time and place for everything." ... Damn. Is this game suggesting that if I say yes, I'm a slut and he'll think less of me? XP BOOOOOOO!

"Watching you squirm like that makes me want to play with you even more." XD As I predicted: Big Dom Energy!

"As long as I will live, I will crave your touch..." *Munches popcorn* Just screw, damn it!

"Our plump lips smeared against one another, and he pulled at a fistful of my hair, drawing me deeper into him as he bit forcefully into my lower lip." :O ... Kinky! >:P I totally called it XD

"I do not mind putting up with anything you might do to me, Okita." How... Romantic?? O_e Just admit that you're horny, Chizuru! There's no shame, I swear!

"I bet when I'm gone, you'll sob like a baby." :'O YES. OBVIOUSLY. >:'(

"Okita spooned me," Classic XD

Ew, Kodo.

"You look pale. Please do not tell me that you have been refusing to drink blood." XD Thanks for your concern...

Bless Okita for offering himself as an all-you-can-eat buffet X_X

"If I were to commit to this relationship, then it meant I needed to separate myself from my family." DRAMAAAA! :D *Pulls out another bag of popcorn*

"I have no desire to carve a life that comes at the expense of hurting others." PREACH B)

#hakuoki #hakuouki #okita #okita souji #edo blossoms #LONG #SALT #otome adventures #SO MANY WORDS #I DIDN'T KNOW THAT TUMBLR HAD A WORD LIMIT BUT I GUESS I FOUND IT #Tune in for part 4 #i have an addiction

[yunxies]

do you know any lesser known medias (such as ina11, transformers, what u usually like) as u have lots of great interests when it comes to shows, etc and im interested in hearing more? im trying to get into more things and its kind of hard finding more media.

oh i’m flattered to hear that! hmm i don’t consume very much media and tend to just get into one thing and hyperfixate on that for months at a time but let’s see...

kaitou joker - a really fun manga turned anime (i haven’t read the manga but i’ve heard people say the anime is better) about flashy bright-colored phantom thieves. wacky, super entertaining concepts, coupled with a surprising amount of depth and emotion. it’s zany and childlike and EVERYONE has a tragic backstory. in any case it’s really fun and engaging, i don’t post about it much here bc it’s not super on my radar but it’s an absolutely underrated gem of a show (and probably less popular than other stuff i’m going to post about)

elsword - i’m only into this one secondhand and mostly just piggyback off my friends’ posts but this one is a korean mmo, i don’t know much about how the actual game goes but the characters are all super compelling from what i hear about them from my friends. the character designs are all really good as well

lobotomy corporation - again, only into this one secondhand. it’s a game inspired by scp stuff where you work for a corporation in a post-apocalyptic world that extracts energy from monsters, and you have to allocate resources, appease the monsters, contain them when they rampage, choose how many of your employees to sacrifice, etc. it sounds really good and fun and i love the characters. i really wanna play it but i don’t have the time ;_;

megaman x - okay so this isn’t exactly unknown but like transformers it’s not, like, in the mainstream fandom spotlight so i guess it counts. really good video game series about robots at war that you can analyze for all sorts of deep themes about morality, pacifism, etc, etc. also x and zero are gay. stan axl

gundam build fighters - the gundam franchise is really famous but this installment less so, it takes place in a world where the rest of the gundam franchise is fictional and people do battles with their little gundam plastic model merch. obviously it’s very, exists to sell toys, but like yugioh it has a really fun uplifting vibe of people just being passionate about their hobbies and having fun with that, it’s really sweet

kamen rider - again mostly secondhand hbfdgj can you tell i’m reeeeally bad at getting around to watching/playing things but i like this one. japanese live-action superhero show that’s been ongoing since like the 60s, every year there’s a new series with a new plot and main character. it seems really fun a lot of people are into it. i like ooo and w because i love ankh and philip. insanely popular in japan so idk if it counts as lesser known but yknow

danball senki - by the same company and director as inazuma eleven and it’s a lot like inazuma eleven except with tiny remote-controlled fighting robots instead of soccer. i’m not very far in but already they’ve used these tiny remote-controlled robots to stop an assassination attempt on the prime minister sfhgldg akihiro hino at it again. i only know like three people who have seen it but everyone says it’s super good so i’d check it out

yugioh spinoffs - idk what you followed me for so maybe you know these already but while the original yugioh is super popular the spinoffs are less known, there’s still a huge fanbase but they aren’t really in the collective nerd consciousness as much, anyway they’re all really good. i recommend gx, 5ds and zexal (OH GOD ZEXAL) the most, arc v is universally panned as a disappointment, have heard mixed reviews on vrains but i’m not very big on it. but gx 5ds and ZEXAL!!! are really really good (gx has a loooot of filler in the first half though and zexal also kind of does)

princess tutu - I KEEP FORGETTING PRINCESS TUTU because it’s not really an Interest in that i get the urge to create fanworks for it but it is one of my favorite shows of all time, it’s about fairytale characters who are trapped in a story made by an author who loves tragic endings, and need to escape the tragic ending and forge a new one. it’s also about ballet, and ducks. i admit a lot of me liking it is because it hits on a whole bunch of my personal favorite tropes/aesthetics but it’s also really good in general 

animorphs - OH MY GOD I FORGOT ANIMORPHS. please read animorphs. i know it’s a meme to make fun of the covers but it’s genuinely one of the best ya series of all time it gets soooo deep into exploring and deconstructing all the realistic implications of the whole “plucky teens fight an alien invasion” setup, fair warning it gets BRUTAL and there is an entire genre of tumblr posts that are just people who only know the covers discovering how brutal it is but it’s sooo good. you can read it legally for free online

vsinger - i guess this counts? a line of vocaloids made by shanghai henian that have more lore and background to them than the other vocaloids who are kind of just a design, a name and an age. like for instance tianyi is an alien who can detect peoples emotions using music and can only communicate in song. so you have a bit more character stuff to play around with. i’m mostly just there for longya he’s sexy. gatling is a good song

also i’m really interested in this webtoon called ga dam hang seol it looks so good and interesting but the translation team consists entirely of one friend of mine who is always really busy and so the translation is only 5 chapters and updates very sporadically cries but just in case you’re interested you can read the comic here and the translation is here

well i think that’s about it that’s the accumulation of the past few years’ interests! also in a few years be on the lookout for a very cool and interesting novel whose title i haven’t decided on yet appearing on tapas (poses)

#replies #long post #Anonymous

[overcaffeinated-creative]

Repairing Friendships

Summary: A character study with Kamelia staring at the unreliable narrator. IT’s set about six months before the Clone Wars start. Every word she speaks drips paranoia. 

Characters: Kamelia Malo, Solus Vetra, Lumi Kirrin, Jazari Naaji

Rating: T maybe?

Warnings: I can't stress the unreliable nature of Kamelia enough.

Kamelia came to the small gathering later than expected. It took her by surprise she decided to show up at all. Things had grown distant between the four of them as the years passed. While they had become early Padawans she remained among the Initiates far longer. Until well past fifteen in fact. Between their different schedules, and superior talents she admitted ruefully, they should have stayed separated. Yet, now they offered her a simple in with their group again.

Just sitting among them now was like being in one of those teen holodramas. The sort she loved but would never admit to watching. To her, those three could have easily fit in among the main casts. Powerful, elite girls who started with the Galaxy served up to them on a silver platter. Yet, they still played dangerous games to pass the time. Noting the smuggled bottle of wine passing between them she knew they cared nothing for rules. It really was like being invited to a new, unwelcoming world. Yet, she felt compelled to see how their lives had turned out.

She wondered if their picture perfect group had in-fighting like the dramas. Their Trio did consist of three Black Beads, with two hailing from Katarn Clan. Avoidance, manipulation, secrecy, and violence was rumored to the lifeblood for those sort. Sure, people admired their rare (and coveted) training but said training came at a cost. Everyone knew their moral compasses never pointed due north. Kamelia imagined it made it hard for them to keep friends at all. No matter the relationship the urge to screw one another over or spy would always be there. An unhealthy paranoia bred from dancing in the shadows of the Dark Side but supposedly resisting.

Paranoia crept abruptly up Kamelia’s spine from those thoughts. Was their attempt to renew their friendship with her just a game? When Jazari, the ring leader, invited her to this she sounded genuine. Even going so far as to say they all missed her. But, that could so easily be a lie. Lumi was too much of a stone cold bitch to miss anyone. Solus was an overly anxious mess that barely fit the Order. Jazari used to be the Nice One yet that could have changed. Maybe when she left they would all laugh behind her back. They were special, everyone knew they were special, but she was not. Compared to people who remembered lives outside the Temple, with impressively high midichlorians, and secret training she was painfully boring. It was hard to believe they were ever friends before.

Sipping from her juice, Kamelia used the sweet taste to focus. Her mind was too occupied with the future again as her master would say. In the here and now, they wanted to be friends again and she would accept. While unprompted, it was a kind offer to make for people not known for such actions. Unlike them, she refused to grow paranoid, exclusive, and apathetic. With their skewed morals they could understandably be those things. If anything this could be the Force wanting her to help them back to the right path. It was her job to help heal the broken as a medic and they were broken.

Sometimes, she wondered if they realized how they sounded to outsiders. The recent Padawan hung out with them for less than a night but was already witnessing their brokenness. Lumi recounted the story of some guy handing her a love note earlier. Something handwritten on flimsi then meticulously sealed with a plum ribbon. He even called her beautiful to her face while stuttering. She imitated his minor confession while scoffing as if the word was an insult. To rub salt in the wound, Lumi even brought the letter to share with them. To her ears, the young man’s words were both pretty and heartfelt. He had a crush he was trying to navigate through without breaking the rules. Yet, Solus laughed along at the prose while Jazari rolled her eyes. Both of them agreed it was insulting.

If honest with herself, Kamelia was envious at the exotic beauty they so often ignored. Compared to them she was merely human. A plain, some days awkwardly shaped human with normal, boring coloring. A slight tan with a few freckles, brown hair, and dark green eyes was nothing next to their brightness. Nor was short, sort of slim, but very stacked impressive next to literal goddesses (even if their chests were all smaller). At best, her beauty came from her personality and soft muscle tone. It keep people from calling her intimidating so she had to love it. Healers should never scare their patients.

Across from her, Lumi sprawled over three mediation cushions head on her back. Her head was pillowed on Jazari’s lap with lekku fanned out and ends curled. She looked every bit an escaped muse from a classical painting or a fountain statue come to life. Already Lumi was classed as hot, as Twi’lek were known to be, but even by their standards she was devastatingly sexy. Not even her more common base color was a slight because her patterns made her look like a nebula. It was frustrating to watch her layer that beneath robes, sweat, and engine grease. With no effort Lumi could have the world eating from the palm of her hand. Yet, she chose to be Jedi. Why would she spend so much time dreaming of the stars when she was capable of owning them with looks alone?

Solus sat above Lumi on a meditation block while scribbling away in her sketch book. What Lumi had in pure sex appeal Solus had as a more innocent sexy. Nothing about her screamed intimidating; a waifish figure with long, white curls and full, fuchsia lips. Even her predatory fangs could be passed off as cute with the right smile. Coy Imp was what the tiny girl called the act she proudly weaponized. In passing, she had even admitted to being a landed countess on Mandalore. Yet, she stayed in the Order as a future, failed Jedi. To Kamelia is was so unfair to see their resources wasted.

One hand was scrolling through her datapad but the other rubbed the base of Lumi’s lekku. In her opinion, Jazari lacked much of the sex appeal attributed to her. Far too tall with ugly hair jumped to Kamelia’s first when she thought of her former friend. She wore the strange nerf tail, Padawan cut of Master Kenobi and Padawan Skywalker’s fame. Combined with her calloused hands and defined muscles she should have looked manly. Yet, people loved it. Clad in mostly black robes she slipped between expectations. They loved the self assured way Jazari carried herself and the kind, intelligent words she spoke. A few also mentioned the brilliance she possessed as a slicer. Any company or runway (Kamelia inwardly balked at her being compared to a model) would be lucky to have her.  Perhaps, she should be thankful after all that Jazari put so little effort into her looks. Otherwise, she would be another unmatchable class of beauty.

-

“Something wrong?” Solus asked sounding almost concerned from her perch. “You keep looking at us funny.”

Kamelia felt her face blister red at being caught with her mind drifting. “I’m just amazed is all,” she stuttered out. “It’s been forever since we’ve hung out and everyones’ changed so much.”

“Huh.” Solus lifted the bottle of wine to her lips for a long sip. “Guess it has been a few years. We weren’t old enough to drink last time.”

“We’re still not old enough to drink nor allowed.” Left off was her personal opinions on them so brazenly breaking the rules. While Masters Zey and Drayson were impressive they were nothing next to Master Windu. Yet, all of their Padawans felt comfortable chancing their reputations for a vice.

“Depending on the rules you go by we are,” Solus laughed before passing the bottle to Lumi. “By my peoples’ standards I’m an adult. Master Leska even did a Coming of Age Ceremony with me to cement it.” Her sketch pad dipped down to show several nude figure studies. “And Padawans drinking is frowned upon but not forbidden.”

Jazari laughed with teeth shining against nearly forest green lips. “Sol’ika has a point. We’re not really told not too.”

Cold silver eyes bore into her own while Lumi took several silent sips. An unspoken dare to challenge anyone further on the matter. “Want some? It’s the best batch yet,” she purred in her Ryl toned words.

“No, thank you. I’ve got a shift with the Master Che in the morning and I can’t risk it.”

#caff the writer #caff fanfics #kamelia malo #c: my venom grows no flowers #solus vetra #c: more than you bargained for #jazari naaji #c: my spiritual is mechanical #lumi kirrin #c: the master's shadow

[valamerys]

I really enjoy your blog so is it okay if I ask you top 10 pet peeves in novels? It can be tropes or even a niche moment in a particular book. I like writing myself and would appreciate the help.

hmmMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM sure, I can come up with some things! bear in mind I read almost exclusively fantasy, and mostly “low” ie not game of thrones fantasy at that, including a loooot of YA, so my items will reflect that.

Top (YA, Fantasy) Fiction Pet Peeves:

1) Unnecessary post-apocalyptic setting  WHY THE FUCK. DO PEOPLE KEEP DOING THIS. WHAT DOES THIS GAIN ANYONE. WHAT IS THE POINT. Red Queen, The Selection, The Queen of the Tearling, and that weird TV show The Shanarananaharahahananaaa Chronicles all do this. It’s, frankly, a cheap-ass bid for Dark and Gritty points, and also an excuse to set things in America But Fantasy, and it’s always bad and awkward. This isn’t planet of the apes, just make your damn fantasy world; you don’t have to try to make it more ~realistic~ by putting the ruins of the statue of liberty in the background. That’s stupid and you’re stupid.

2) One-note characters  Mostly present via The Bitch or The Bully stereotype, but also seen in The Bratty Brother, The Sweet Sister, The Spacey DGAF Parent, and the Eccentric Wise Elder. I get that there’s not time to flesh out every single person your protagonist comes into contact with, but certain archetypes are so fucking boring and done to death that I tune out immediately. It’s not 2004 anymore. The game has evolved. We can do better. We can be more interesting.

Related to the sweet sister trope, I’d like to bring up this text post from my other blog:

3) When the protagonists’ actions/ choices do not affect the plot  Alright, this one isn’t even a pet peeve, it’s basic narrative construction. Your story is supposed to be about your protagonist (or your two or three protagonists, in a multi-pov story, but for simplicity’s sake we’ll talk about one) and their arc, how they change and grow. a) If their actions never have consequences, how the fuck do they, like, learn things? and b) if their actions have no bearing on the climax of the story, how the fuck does the story demonstrate that they’ve changed, or come to a meaningful conclusion that’s related to that? Sure there’s weird literary exceptions, and certainly some fantasy in particular is more plot than character driven, but if your character is honestly never proactive, particularly through the ending of the book, uh, i have a major problem and so should you.

4) The Mandatory Feminism Stuff  we should all know these by now. “Not Like Other Girls” is bad. Hating on corsets and other femme paraphernalia is bad (and moreover i personally resent it because I love corsets). A book with a female protagonist and no other important female characters (or only evil female characters) is bad. A high fantasy series that builds its worldbuilding on a raging patriarchy for the purpose of elevating a few specific women into positions of power for superficial RAH RAH FEMINISM points while not addressing systematic oppression is really, really bad. Defining female empowerment as only one thing (IE picking up a sword and Proving Yourself just as badass as all those scoffing men!!!) is bad. I’m very tired and I want to read about women-- different kinds of women, with different moral alignments and interests and abilities and ethnic backgrounds and ages and sexualities and beliefs-- helping each other and being forces in the world and in each others’ lives. That’s it. That’s all I want. I have no clue why that’s so elusive.

5) Characters being flippant to the point of stupidity because........ that’s cool, i guess?  Homygod, I am so sick to my teeth of characters who would get their asses kicked IRL for being obnoxious and overly glib be appraised with “wow, you’ve really got some nerve! I like you, kid!” or some variation therof. Mouthing off to superiors/ royalty? Charging into a fight on a stray heroic impulse despite everyone with a brain and their mom telling you you’re going to die because you just picked up swordfighting on tuesday? flagrantly and thoughtlessly disregarding engrained cultural things because they don’t align with your conveniently 2017 sense of social justice despite you living in an analogue-medieval world? Not cute. It will get you fucking killed. If your character doesn’t seem to grasp that, I’m going to think they’re a dumbshit, and if the book rewards rather than punishes that, I’m not going to take it very seriously. (obviously there are exceptions to this, particularly if your world doesn’t take itself very seriously, but if you expect to instill a real sense of danger in day-to-day life, your protagonist doesn’t get to be exempt from that because they’re hot and witty.)

6) Also, characters being stubborn. This goes with my last point, because it’s another trait people seem to think is like cool, or something? That stubborn people are stubborn because they’re Strong? that it’s a flaw but it’s actually a Cool Flaw, like in job interviews when they ask your weakness and you say “i’m just TOO hard of a worker, ha ha ha”? U see this a lot in female characters written by people who are uncomfortable writing female characters, i think because, again, it mistakenly reads as Strength on some really superficial level, and because the banter and petty conflict that arises from it temporarily distracts from weak overall characterization. If you’re going to write a character being stubborn, that’s great! But understand that a) it’s a real flaw that can genuinely blind them to good ideas and cause unnecessary friction that shouldn’t be treated as endearing, b) it’s not a replacement for other elements of characterization!! and c) it’s the flipside of being assertive, which is a good thing: no trait is only a flaw or a strength, and so any trait a character possess in abundance should both help and hinder them at different times, with maturity level tempering the bad, to a degree. stubbornness is no different.

7) Sexual assault (or the threat of it) all over the fucking place. Do i have to explain this one? Of course ownvoices books about sexual assault survivors are good and necessary but we are all sick to death of "fun” fantasy worlds where the female characters exist under the constant and unending threat of rape, where sexual assault is common as window dressing and the love interests are Super Special Feminist Snowflakes for being so revolutionary as to take consent into account. fuck that. that should be the bare fucking minimum. i am so tired.

8) The Six-Pack Sex Appeal Golem  Honestly, I am not here to hate on love triangles, because I am ALL ABOUT the romance and the more the merrier. But what i do really, really loathe is the incredibly narrow parameters that have come to exist for male love interests, to the point where they all tend to feel like the same guy in need of anger management: a little broody, smart, serious, jealous and protective to a fault, if we get his POV we get real creepy sexual thoughts out of nowhere while he acts vaguely standoffish and probably a little patronizing to a woman whose Attitude gives him a boner. This man does not experience emotions that can’t be interpreted as darkly sexual, or possibly A Little Bit Vulnerable, just for that one scene of mandatory backstory reveal. I recently reviewed a real bad romance novel and described the hero as “a barely-consistent golem of toxic masculine ideals” and that’s what I’m talking about here. MAKE YOUR LOVE INTERESTS WELL-ROUNDED AND UNIQUE CHARACTERS LIKE ALL YOUR OTHER CHARACTERS. Forget what’s “sexy,” I wanna see the male love interests be Soft and Weird and cry in an unattractive way. For further reading/ a great case study of the Masculine Golem, please just read this article about how abysmal the romance in ROAR is. (For what it’s worth, I actually think SJM manages to avoid this in the ACOTAR series. Rhys and Tamlin suck but they are still mostly consistent characters, not just shells inhabited by the spirit of heterosexuality. your mileage may vary, though.)

9) Secret Superpower/ She Was The Missing Princess/ Queen All Along  I think this is a trend that’s slowly but surely passing from YA, but for a while you couldn’t throw a rock in a bookstore without hitting a trilogy where a long-lost missing princess was established in chapter 1 and you spent the whole fucking first book knowing the orphaned heroine with a murky past was gonna turn out to be the princess and you were always right. Queens are also a huge fucking thing right now, although they don’t tend to follow that exact formula. See also the character’s discovery of a superpower catapulting them into a new exciting life-- basically any discovery of a Cool Sexy birthright as a catalyst for a plot is kind of played out and boring, at this point in time? This ties into my earlier point about wanting characters’ choices to shape the plot; it’s so much easier to have them reacting to external forces, especially dramatic, aesthetic ones, i get that, but you’ll get a more original and interesting story the more you resist that urge. And everyone is fucking tired of secret princesses and can spot them a mile away, y’all.

10) OMG magic is outlawed!!! BUT WAIT THE PROTAGONIST HAS SECRET MAGIC! CAN SHE RISE ABOVE PERSECUTION AND HER PROBABLE ROMANCE WITH THE PRINCE OF THIS POORLY-THOUGHT-OUT TOTALITARIAN REGIME TO LEAD ALL MAGIC-HAVERS TO FREEDOM AND ACCEPTANCE???? If you do this i’m going to come to your house and pour a cup of soda on your head. This is dumb and I can’t believe I’ve seen it multiple times. I’m not even explaining this it should be obvious.

Honorable mentions go to: Excessive mentions/ descriptions of eye color, really tired ways of describing kissing, elemental magic is super fucking overdone, instalove, and Training Montages

[thesassybooskter]

DOWN DEEP by Kimberly Kincaid: Review & Excerpt

Down Deep by Kimberly Kincaid Series: Station Seventeen #4 Published by Self-Published Publication Date: June 18th 2018 Genres: Romantic Suspense Pages: 343 Source: Author Format: eARC Goodreads Buy Online: Amazon ♥ Barnes & Noble ♥ Kobo ♥ iBooks

Disclaimer: I voluntarily reviewed a copy of this book. All opinions stated are solely mine.

Ian Gamble has a past he’d rather forget—which is exactly what he’s doing at The Crooked Angel Bar and Grill when the place catches fire. Between his active duty in the Marines and his experience as a firefighter, his instincts get him and hot, headstrong bar manager, Kennedy Matthews, to safety. But those same instincts kick into high gear when the fire is ruled an arson, and he discovers Kennedy’s got secrets of her own.

The only thing that matters more to Kennedy than her bar is her brother. When she finds out he’s in over his head with a dangerous arsonist, she’ll do anything to keep him safe—even if it means teaming up with Gamble, who’s too sharp-eyed and hard-bodied for his own good. With every step, their attraction flares hotter and the risks grow more dangerous. Can Gamble and Kennedy face their fears—and their secrets—to catch a terrifying enemy? Or will they go down in flames?

  Review

I’m a sucker for well-written suspense, the kind that keeps you turning the pages while afraid of what those pages will hold, and that is the best thing about DEEP DOWN. Ms. Kincaid wrote a villain who really is the stuff of nightmares and knowing that he would get his is poor comfort when the scope of terror he could unleash before getting his comeuppance is so limitless. The fast pace of the action and the tense suspense make every minute of reading this book so worth it!

The synopsis of the book is detailed enough to give a reader a very good idea of what to expect in the romance department, so I’m just going to stick with my impressions of Ian and Kennedy. Unfortunately, I was not a huge fan of these two characters. Ian takes ‘stiff upper lip’ to a whole other level that was not very attractive to me and Kennedy’s prickly exterior had the same effect on me. Both of them were too closed off from everyone and it made the speed and potential longevity of their romantic involvement unconvincing, beyond the flash of lust/passion.

Kennedy’s determination to go it all alone by herself and her protectiveness of her brother, while sort of admirable, was also foolish and could have had worse results than it did, so not in my pro column.

Kennedy’s brother was actually my favorite character (hard not to root for the underdog) and I liked that he choose to be grown up and take responsibility, but I was unable to connect with the main characters and the abrupt ending of the story also threw a damper on my final rating. I hope there is another installment where we can catch up with and get the ending we need. 

  Excerpt

Kennedy exhaled for the first time in ten minutes. When faced with fight or flight, she’d go with fight every single time and twice on Sundays. That still didn’t change the fact that the adrenaline was a bitch to manage. Add to it that she hadn’t needed to forcibly boot anyone from The Crooked Angel in over a year—even then, Javier had done the actual handiwork—and she was definitely out of practice with the defenses that had once been daily survival skills.

You sure you’re not going to get soft on me if you move out of the neighborhood, sis?

Setting her shoulders despite the ache that was making a comeback now that her nervous system was (sort of) returning to business as usual, Kennedy spun toward the pass-through at the far end of the bar. Gamble followed her to the customer side, taking a decent-sized draw from his water before putting it out of the way, shrugging out of his leather jacket, and grabbing the nearest bar stool. She had to admit, having him stick around and walk her to her car was smart from a strategic standpoint, and his quiet, steadfast presence calmed her down.

Even if the way he’d trusted her to handle herself had revved her way up.

“So,” Gamble said, yanking her back from crazytown as he turned the stool in his grasp upside-down and put it on top of the bar. “How did a woman like you end up managing a place like The Crooked Angel, anyway?”

“A woman like me,” Kennedy repeated, treating the stool in front of her to an expert flip.

            If Gamble had caught the steel in her tone, he didn’t show it by backing down. “Yeah. Something tells me they don’t teach hammerlocks like that at Remington University.”

            She released her bar stool to cross her arms over her chest. “Are you saying I don’t look smart enough to have a college degree?”

“I’m saying you look like you have a story,” he qualified, and her muscles burned with a fresh shot of fatigue.

“Yeah, well, I’m not about to tuck you into bed with a glass of warm milk and tell it to you.”

Gamble flipped another bar stool over, the ink on his left arm dancing with the flex and release of his ridiculously well-defined biceps. “Why not? We’ve got a little time to kill while we finish up in here, right?”

“We do,” Kennedy said slowly, moving another stool to its proper place. They’d reached the end of the bar, where one last stool remained in front of four shots of tequila. Gamble’s eyes met hers, glinting briefly, and God, she wasn’t the only one with a story. But since she knew he wasn’t about to get all loose-lipped, and he was right about them having some time to kill while she finished closing the bar down, she figured what the hell. Her background wasn’t exactly top secret information, and it was less awkward than shooting the shit about something mundane, like the weather.

“I guess I ended up here the way most people end up where they work. I applied for the job and got it.”

Bypassing the shots of tequila and the last bar stool—at least, for now—Kennedy moved back to the pass-through at the other end of the bar with Gamble right behind her.

“Did you always want to manage a bar and grill?” he asked, mirroring her movements as she began restocking clean wine glasses in the racks behind the bar.

“Not always. When I was a kid, I wanted to be Wonder Woman.”

He rumbled out a laugh. “Not a bad pick, but something tells me there’s not a lot of availability for a position like that.”

Kennedy bit back the urge to tell him there had probably been an equal likelihood of her honestly working her way out of North Point as there had been of her becoming a superhero. “Exactly. And while office jobs work out great for a lot of people, they’re not really my jam, so I decided the restaurant industry was a good way to go.”

“Yeah, I’m not a nine-to-fiver, either,” Gamble said. “Not that I don’t respect those kinds of jobs. I just wouldn’t last more than two minutes doing one.”

Curiosity flickered in her mind, and she put it to words. “So, what did you want to be when you were a kid?”

“Race car driver,” he said, taking the last wine glass from the tray in front of them and putting it carefully in place. “But I decided it’d be safer to run into burning buildings instead, so here I am.”

  Order a digital or print edition of DOWN DEEP by Kimberly Kincaid and get an exclusive Epilogue from Kimberly! Each entry will also be entered for the chance to win a Grand Prize! 

The Grand Prize for 1 winner consists of: ~A 30-minute Google Hangout for the winner and ONE friend with Kimberly Kincaid and BT Urruela!

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    And don’t miss the first books in the Station Seventeen series! SKIN DEEP is FREE for a limited time only, and DEEP CHECK is just $.99! Grab your copies of the Station Seventeen series today!  https://bit.ly/2DW6aJB

About Kimberly Kincaid

Kimberly Kincaid writes contemporary romance that splits the difference between sexy and sweet. When she's not sitting cross-legged in an ancient desk chair known as "The Pleather Bomber", she can be found practicing obscene amounts of yoga, whipping up anything from enchiladas to éclairs in her kitchen, or curled up with her nose in a book.

Kimberly is a 2011 RWA Golden Heart® finalist who lives (and writes!) by the mantra that food is love. Her digital Line series is all about the hot cops and sexy chefs of Brentsville, New York. She is also the author of the Pine Mountain series, which follows small town singles as they find big-time love. Kimberly resides in Virginia with her wildly patient husband and their three daughters.

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DOWN DEEP by Kimberly Kincaid: Review & Excerpt was originally published on The Sassy Bookster