ojovivo
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Kiana Khansmith
shark vs the universe
Sade Olutola
pixel skylines
One Nice Bug Per Day
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
cherry valley forever
The Bowery Presents
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Today's Document
The Stonewall Inn
Fai_Ryy
Mike Driver
Jar Jar Binks Fan Club
Cosmic Funnies
ellievsbear
seen from Iraq
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@carriedyourburden
ɪɴᴅᴇᴘᴇɴᴅᴇɴᴛ & ᴘʀɪᴠᴀᴛᴇ 𝖍𝖔𝖗𝖗𝖔𝖗 ʙʟᴏɢ
⋆˚.⭒⋆ ─── ᴘᴇɴɴᴇᴅ ʙʏ 𝖆𝖓𝖓𝖊 ─── ⋆⭒˚.⋆
──────────── ɪ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ Qᴜɪᴛᴇ ᴀɴ ɪᴍᴘʀᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴ ────────────
ɴᴏᴡ ɪ'ᴍ 𝖌𝖔𝖓𝖊, ʙᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ʟᴀʏɪɴɢ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ — ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴇɢʀᴇᴇ ᴏꜰ ˢᵉᵖᵉʳᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗, ɪ ʙᴇᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ, ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ'ʟʟ ｔａｓｔｅ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ.
───────────── ꜰɪᴠᴇ ꜰᴇᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴇxᴀᴄᴛ ─────────────
☠︎ material beyond this point may be usfw & trigger heavy ☠︎
carrd ⋆ pinterest ⋆ multimuse
closed starter for anyone ! ( @saltmere ) ─── ⋆⭒˚.⋆
Carmilla moved a skilled tongue between their canine and its neighboring tooth, swiping the last remnants of gore clean. The metallic taste coated her taste buds in one last savor before it was gone. Only so often could a blood bag go missing or Carmilla found someone worth sinking her teeth into. She didn’t know when she’d get another chance to feed, having to dip beneath the radar as another helpless creature in society. With her petite frame, no one suspected a thing, besides the assumption that she couldn’t take care of herself. Carmilla allowed those kinds of things to pass through her stubbornness. The less they assumed she was capable of, the more they were left susceptible to her surprises.
“We’re closed,” the brunette called to whoever had entered the clinic and ignored the blinking sign that hung in the window. She moved the last batch of surgical steel utensils into the machine to wash overnight before poking her head out to make sure the patient had left. “Oh, it’s just you.” Carmilla straightened with a smile at the edge of her lips. "I'll be done in a sec, if you don't mind waiting."
he took in the expression on her face, and he swallowed once, twice, before another sigh escaped him. his gaze turned toward the man on his table, disgust curling at his lip like even looking at him was unpleasant. “i don’t know if i would’ve told you,” he said absent-mindedly, almost to himself, like olive wasn’t still standing there. it would’ve been easier if she hadn’t been. obviously. clearly. “trauma, obviously.” whether it was meant to be a joke or not was hard to tell, his voice too even to make anything land right. after a beat, booker’s gaze moved back to her. “i’m trying to save people.” he gestured toward the corpse with the same clinical detachment, like that explained enough. “money talks. he was like your dad. the charges were dropped, but he was dangerous. a nuisance.” his voice stayed flat, but his nose wrinkled faintly, some flicker of disgust breaking through. “i’m sorry you had to see this.” and maybe that was the closest he could get to saying the rest of it – that it wasn’t unlike when he’d seen her father kill someone as a child. that maybe some things didn't leave you. they just taught you where to put the knife.
✘ ✘ ✘
She’d seen this film before with a different lead. It would’ve been obtuse to not recognize her own hand in the unraveling. Strings created Cat’s Cradle tangled in her fingers, Booker a spider in the web of their past. He’d taken new life to the corpse her father left, and how could she blame him? Maybe he was doing something good. “I’m so sorry, Book,” the blonde said no louder than a whisper. If the air around them hadn’t been static, he might not have heard her fault. The reasoning brought clarity with confusion. A script turned to another angle, and Olive stepped forward; a shaky hand reached to graze stiff skin. She knew the feeling, no give in the muscle that had gone stale, and their book having reached its last chapter. There were only those who remembered them left to tell the tale. “You’re cleansing society…” It’d been a concept she knew, her father’s mantra skewed to his twisted reality, but this was Booker. She trusted him. His reasoning, his heart, the part of her that would always belong to him.
“What did he do?” The blonde turned around swiftly, and the energy shifted with her tone. Instead of watching her friend hold the knife, she searched for answers, to know before diving in with her own. “How many more are there? Do you have a list?” No more needed to hurt the way they had, not if they could help it. Olive thought that this could be their purpose. She hoped this was the reason for the madness and all that they’d endured.
it was healing, in a way, to hear hudson say that. their entire life had been spent wishing things were different, wishing there was some version of themself that could exist without hurting. using magic made him sick. not using magic made them sick. it seemed like he could never find a happy medium, some safe place between wanting and surviving, until he met hudson. ironic, considering that happy medium was exactly what had wrecked them in the first place. “anything,” they said quickly, too quickly, like the answer had been sitting behind their teeth waiting for permission. their gaze lifted to hudson’s, open and earnest in a way that made them feel almost exposed. “anything you need. whatever you want to know, i’ll tell you.” a beat passed, their voice softening. “i don’t want you to have to guess with me. not anymore.”
✘ ✘ ✘
They were apart long enough for routines to change and phone numbers to be lost. If only he didn’t have theirs memorized. Losing what was supposed to be his forever made a canyon in his chest; maybe a heart lived there, he couldn’t remember anymore. It’d only been upon reconnecting with Felix that any sort of passion returned to the ravine. “I mean, I have some… logistics questions,” the man started to think out loud. He had long enough to wonder, becoming curious as to how his love had obtained such a gift. “Were you like born with it or did you fall in a vat of toxic waste or something?” Hudson had been trying to wrap his head around it all and approach from the most reasonable angle, regardless of his ignorance of the subject. “And you’re sure there isn’t anything else I need to know?”
La maman et la putain (1973), dir. Jean Eustache
OLIVIA RODRIGO photographed by Collier Schorr for Pitchfork
OLIVIA RODRIGO via IG
PATRICK GIBSON Dexter: Original Sin 1.06 "The Joy of Killing"
DROP DEAD dir. Petra Collins
Rachel Brosnahan
Rachel Brosnahan as Lois Lane — Superman (2025) dir. James Gunn
You shall always be mine.
@saltmeres // olive & booker
inked hands pressed against hudson's, and they sighed, looking to the floor. "for what it's worth, i really am sorry. for everything, i suppose." his gaze turned to where the ring used to sit, before he threw it against the wall and stormed away. "i would be okay with starting over – with the real us. the real me. you know, the magical one. the witch." a beat. "if you wanted to."
🕯️ attn: @carriedyourburden
✘ ✘ ✘
Hudson searched for the right words to say, if they even existed. How could he find a sentence to explain? To say I love you with every molecule of my being, but your dishonesty tore a piece of me open. After his career unraveled, Hudson held himself together with Felix’s hands, and those were the same hands that betrayed his trust. This was the closest they’d been since the beginning of the end. “No more secrets,” he insisted, fingers tracing over the indent beneath his knuckle. “If we do this…” Hudson hesitated but caved, as he always did with Felix. “I want to know you, all of you.”
“obviously, this isn’t what i wanted you to see.” booker exhaled slowly before standing, every movement careful in a way that only made the room feel colder. the look he gave olive could only be described as clinical, stripped of softness, of warmth, of anything that usually lived in his face when he looked at her. and he loved her. he did. that was the worst part, maybe – that he loved her, and still, in this moment, he was staring at her like he was a predator deciding whether or not to bare his teeth. he peeled the blue gloves from his hands one finger at a time, eyes never leaving hers. “i’m not like your dad,” he said, voice even, though something in his expression twisted with disgust. “i don’t hurt – ” his mouth tightened around the rest of it, like even saying it made him sick. “you know.” a beat passed, heavy and awful. “i need you to understand that.”
🕯️ attn: @carriedyourburden
✘ ✘ ✘
Olive knew the ache of disappointment far too fondly. Maybe she’d been the reason for this, her bloodline tainting those beyond their own flesh. She was early. Too early. It wasn’t meant for her eyes, but the corrupt crawled to Munson’s, as if her father still called to her from his grave. “Booker…” The blonde’s voice trailed off. A sight too familiar, a stench that simmered with remorse, metallic and sour in nature. “What are you...” Olive never found the rest of the sentence. She didn’t need to — he knew. Logic told her to turn around and leave before she dipped her fingers into the filth. Why couldn’t the blonde get herself to move? “I know you aren’t,” Olive assured, but there was no air left in her lungs. Booker was no monster, at least not one that she recognized, or allowed herself to believe. “Why?” That’s where the core was, the nail she needed to close her coffin.
“thank you,” he murmured against her lips. “for another chance.” voss nuzzled his nose against her neck, sighing in contentment like he could breathe her in and make a home out of it. his light, his moon, his reason for fucking breathing. every soft part of him seemed to ache with having her close again, with the fact that she was here, warm and real and letting him touch her after everything. he wouldn’t let her go again. not this time. not now that he had her back. voss had sworn he left that other life behind in new york, and maybe, in some ways, he had wanted that to be true. wanted it badly enough to say it with a straight face, to tuck the lie somewhere deep and act like it didn’t still have teeth. so what if he hadn’t? so what if some things followed him no matter how far he ran? she didn’t need to know that. not yet. not when she was finally in his arms again.
🕯️ attn: @carriedyourburden
✘ ✘ ✘
What was she doing?
She knew the truth, saw his bloodied knuckles, and cleaned up the glass he left behind. Evie ended it, led them off his trail. It’d been as much to protect him as herself. This wasn’t sustainable. She couldn’t keep up appearances and continue giving a fake story. Still, when he called, she’d been on the street and fogging up the windows of his car without hesitation. They moved forward, or so she told herself. “Don’t thank me yet,” the brunette breathed against warm lips. He’d twisted into the fiber of her being, pumping through an empty vessel. Evie echoed without him. “You’re on thin ice.” A warning for both of them: she needed to be strong, and he needed to be smart. “But fuck, I missed you,” she submitted momentarily, pulling him back into her heat.
tags.
