9 Bookmarks by LovaLo
List of Bookmarks
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Summary
He finds the omega in the forest—half-starved, feral, and ready to run from anything that gets too close.
Grant doesn’t touch him.
Doesn’t claim him.
Doesn’t force a bond that should be instinct.
He just says,“You’re safe.”
Lennox doesn’t believe him.
But he stays anyway.
And in a world where omegas are taken, traded, and broken—safety might be the most dangerous thing of all.Bookmarked by LovaLo
24 May 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
He thought about chamomile tea in a chipped blue mug and broth with bread and a man who said *it’s your choice* and a man who said *missed you, pet* and the distance between those two things, which was everything, which was the entire width of the world, and it didn’t matter because he was here and not there and here was the only place he’d ever really been.
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Back to filthy scratchy sheets, knees to his chest, he feels flimsy. TV-dinner film flimsy, white trash treasure. Fucked by his brother in a shitty shared motel room because his mouth can’t form the word 'no', because it’d change nothing if it could.
Spit-lubed dick glistening like spit-shone boots, Gerard presses into him and the ache that shoots up his spine is penitence for not having one. The pressure in his guts shows him where he’d keep his courage if he could find it.
Bookmarked by LovaLo
22 May 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
This is love- this is how Gerard loves.
Not like he didn’t know that. Not like he could forget, it’s implanted in his brain like a prion, misfolded proteins that say he loves you, god, does he love you. God knows you’d be dead if he didn’t.
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Summary
Don’t think about it.
Bookmarked by LovaLo
24 Mar 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
Mikey lets his face meet the pillow. This feeling, his brother inside of him, fucking him, must be comparable to how junkies feel when needle meets vein. He imagines Gerard, the essence of him, as the toxic fluid that weeps from a syringe. There’s some heroin doll out there anesthetized on a begrimed mattress rife with cavities from cigarette burns that knows of his pain.
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“I don’t fuckin’ know,” he warbles. “I just wish you told me.”
“I did tell you. Just now.” Gerard is starting to get a little sick of Mikey feeling sorry for himself. It’s not like they don’t see other people. Seeing other people is the whole point. It makes coming back to each other matter more.
“Don’t hate me,” Gerard pitches up to plead a little. It’s usually not this fucking hard to goad Mikey out of his jeans. “Come on. You’ll feel better, probably. You’re acting really fuckin’ possessive right now.”
Bookmarked by LovaLo
23 Mar 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
Vanity isn’t listed as a sin until pretty late in the Bible.
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Summary
He knows them so well that they end up on the same cliff, staring down the same ending, like how your eyes skip to the last panel on the page.
He thinks of the way the grass felt, swears it pulsed underneath him, pushing a weak, fizzing body into his arms. Love received, love rejected. Corpses reanimated or scrapped from the series.
Bookmarked by LovaLo
06 Mar 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
He looks so young down there on the floor. Like a little kid in a collar of vomit. Blue-fingered, ashen, frozen just this way, alone. There’s no note, of course. He always pictured a note, that he’d somehow always find a way to get the last word in. Past the disbelief is belief, and beyond that, a wonder if this is the first thing he’s ever done on accident. Clinking bottles, snapped strings, little teeth clicking against each other. Someone is knocking on the door. If grass could grow here, it would bully its way past the linoleum and lift him up.
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“You fucking,” Gerard is nasty, drunk, damp. “Fucking… delinquent.” He’s lit up like a trash fire. His eyes twitch inside a swath of red makeup as the door behind him slams. Everything around Gerard is forever kinetic. Objects in motion. Mikey feels doomed, but this doesn’t scare him. You can be doomed and still live a long time. His chest rattles dryly. Gerard’s hand is at his belt - no, that’s Frank’s belt, Mikey thinks, strawberry-milk pink with its disco-grid of studs. Gerard undoes it with one hand, like he’s strangling a snake.
Bookmarked by LovaLo
03 Mar 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
The first time the belt hits, he wishes he could bite through his tongue, bisect it with yellowing teeth. That’s a choice about his body that he could make, but he can’t even have that.
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Summary
“A band?” Mikey asks, incredulously.
“Ray’s gonna be in it, and Otter, but we need a bassist.”
“Gee, I haven’t seriously played bass in years,” Mikey says, leaving aside the fact that he’s a raving homicidal maniac, probably with multiple undiagnosed mental disorders. Gee hasn’t forgotten that. He might’ve forgotten about the bass thing.Series
- Part 1 of Desperate Lovers
Bookmarked by LovaLo
14 Jan 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
He didn't come out to kill tonight. Hadn't gone out to kill in months. Gerard said he'd done too many too fast, that he'd get sloppy, that he should pace himself. Gerard also let Mikey bite him 'til he bled and fuck him 'til neither one of them could move. Gerard is perfect, and if it didn't mean losing him forever Mikey would gut him just to see how glorious he must be.
But Mikey hasn't been out with purpose since the beginning of summer, and there's a chill in the air now. Alex is moving, kissing against Mikey's neck. The crowd from the show that just let out is passing by the side street that Mikey had ducked into. Gerard will be here to pick him up soon. Mikey called him when the show was over, like he promised, before Alex found him outside the pit and asked him for his number. Alex’s lips would look so good sucking Mikey's cock. Alex’s head would look so good busted open on the wall.
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Summary
Gerard probably isn’t even getting off on the visual, he’s having some sort of meta-fantasy. Look, I’m getting the fag who will kill for me to fuck the fag who will die for me. Look what I can do. Look what I can get other people to do.
It’s a brutally stupid misunderstanding of the situation to think that Mikey is the center of attention in any of this.
Bookmarked by LovaLo
07 Jan 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
The second wave of liquor hits and Mikey wants a different death. Any death, even an ugly one, even a lonely one, Gerard and Frank can spatter the dirt of his grave with their semen if they want, it doesn’t fucking matter, locked in a meat freezer / bisected with a cleaver / poison / AIDS / live burial / fentanyl / drawn and quartered / car crash / mauled by a bear / train tracks / head trauma / hate crime / lightning strike / crime of passion / act of God.
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The fake blood still sticks to Mikey’s scrawny neck, coats the solitary hairs there. Buzzard boy. He’s got a thin throat. Gerard once said that it wouldn’t take much rope.
Frank’s hand is shaking on Mikey’s leg, which is also quivering. Together, they are a failing machine. Gerard lifts the soaked shirt like a bridal veil from Mikey’s face and they suck in twin breaths: one wet, one dry. And Gerard smiles, like God does in paintings. -
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Summary
It was as if someone had taken a seam ripper to his little teddy bear of a brother and torn all of the stuffing out. High school left him open and deflated on the side of the road. Just shredded him. He’s always been so delicate. He sops the grease off pizza with napkins before it touches his mouth now.
Gerard undoes his belt for him.
Bookmarked by LovaLo
06 Jan 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
“Die,” Mikey drones, stupefied.
“Yeah,” he says sweet, “I’ll do that later. Just let me have this.” Springs scream and wail with the rocking. “Just let me. Just let me have you.”
"He wants and he wants and he wants so he takes Mikey more brutal than he should"