An angel?

The Lovers by Jef Joseph Marie Thomas Lambeaux (1852-1908)

꒰ MARKING — eijiro kirishima ꒱ ⸝⸝ .ᐟ

i think kiri will only mark you — like full blown, uncontrolled marking — when he's overstimulated...

going raw for the first time and you can tell he's barely holding himself together, his thrusts are shallow and his eyes glossed over like he's trying not to break.

having to coax him through each movement, kissing his jawline and thumbing away the tears in his eyes as he moves inside you, mouth agape like it needs something to cling to.

so you give that to him.

guiding his head to the crook of your neck and whispering 'bite' against the shell of his ear. you expect him to ignore you, give a warning thrust, laughing as he tells you he 'isn't that far gone.'

but it doesn't happen, and instead you're graced with teeth digging into your shoulder.

it's gentle at first, like he's holding onto the slightest bit of restraint, but when you clench around him, back arched and moaning in his ear — he knows it's an invitation to be a little rougher <3

the silence in the fog

Anne Carson, from Plainwater: Essays and Poetry

but they all carry something.

simon has a hair tie on his wrist. black, cheap, the kind you buy in packs of fifty and lose all over the damn flat. it sits under the cuff of his glove, biting into his skin, reminding him exactly why he needs to make it home. it always smells like your shampoo for a bit before it starts to smell like his own sweat, he finds himself a new one on the bathroom floor before each deployment.

price wears a watch. it’s not the watch that’s about you, really. it’s that he started setting the second time zone to match yours. he checks it more than he should, especially at night when he can’t sleep and it’s three a.m where he is and eight a.m where you are. he’ll think: ‘she’ll be making coffee, i wonder what she wore to bed’ and that’s the closest he lets himself get to mixing you with work.

kyle wears a bracelet. it’s thin braided yarn, the kind of thing you learned to make as a kid at camp. you made it on a slow sunday afternoon while he was half-asleep on your thigh. he said ‘oh, that’s sick, darling. ta!’, put it on and hasn’t taken it off since. it’s absolutely filthy these days. and when it starts to fray, he simply keeps re-knotting it, sometimes johnny has to help get it tight.

I tracked down a rare lesbian vampire film from the '80s.

(Lesbian Film Review: Because the Dawn 🦇)