#dark and sexy is what they excel at

[acebytaemin]

no matter what taemin is taemin and don’t you FORGET IT

[teaboot]

One of the best parts about working at a sex shop is the employee discount, and yeah that means excellent deals on sex supplies but that's not the big brain part.

You come to my house. Something is cooking in the kitchen- it smells wonderful. What is it? It's novelty dick-shaped pasta. I've set up a sensual sexy Italian dinner. There are candles set up on the table. They're melting too fast, dripping everywhere- they're low temp waxplay pillar candles. For dessert, I serve you a delicious ice cream topped in penis-shaped rainbow confetti sprinkles and strawberry body paint drizzle, and afterwards, serve coffee with roasted hazelnut warming lube.

We play a board game while we drink. It's sexy monopoly. It's your turn. You roll the dice. They come up as 'whisper into' and 'butt'. I lost the original dice. We're using the sexy dice. You move four spaces.

After dinner, I run you a bath. A bubble bath. The bubble gel? Sensual ocean breeze. There are candles lined up around the tub. The scent is overpowering. Why? They're three-in-one fruit flavored massage oil candles. I'm using so much. It's so wasteful. Do you want to shave? I have conditioning shave cream that smells like limes. And an electric body razor, but you can't use that in the tub.

How about a bath bomb? You toss one in. It's cherry blossom scented. As it dissolves, three sexy bath sex suggestion cards fall out. They're all variations on doggy style, probably because fucking in a bathtub is probably the easiest way to break your hip.

The water cools. You get out an dry off with a novelty towel. If you wrap it around your chest, it looks like you have gigantic tatas bursting through the fabric like the Hulk.

You walk into the bedroom. I'm there, reading an instructional book titled "The Housewife's Guide To Every Day Stripping". I'm wearing a neck pillow designed to look like a massive curved weiner. Also a pair of fake leather bondage leggings and an oversized men's christmas T-shirt that says "Jingle My Bells" across the front.

I see you come in. I put down the book, take off the pillow. Offer you a massage. You accept. I already burned up all the massage candles so I pop a new bottle of CBD massage oil that says something wrong about Chakras on it. It's very gritty. That's because there's little chunks of amethyst in it for some fucking reason. It's fine, though. You say you don't mind.

I don't do massages very often. It's bad. You end up more tense than before. One of your muscles starts to cramp- it's okay. I whip out a bottle of Lidocane topical masculine performance numbing spray. You immediately feel like your shoulder went to the dentist. It's not ideal, but it's better than cramping.

You're not in the mood to bone after that. Which is good, cause I'm actually pretty asexual, but it hasn't come up yet so I'm relieved to avoid the conversation. Instead we get ready for bed. (The weather is terrible, and I insist you stay over.) I set up the futon, then realize it smells like cigarettes from the previous owner and shyly ask if you wanna cuddle in my room. You're down.

I crawl under the covers, placing my penis-shaped pink glitter pride bottle on the side table in case one of us wakes up thirsty. Once you're settled in, I turn off the glowing bare ass night light and the room goes black.

It takes a few seconds for your eyes to adjust, but when they do, you look up at the ceiling. It's dotted all over with little green flourescent lights. Are they plastic stars? No. I've pinned up a thousand glow in the dark condoms. God bless

[littlebatgames]

The voices of Vampire Therapist

Hi Tumblr! I'm Cyrus Nemati, creative director at Little Bat Games, where we're making Vampire Therapist. You might know me as a voice actor. I voiced Theseus, Dionysus, and Ares in Hades, so as you might imagine, voices are my thing.

When I started designing Vampire Therapist, I wanted to create characters not only had deep narrative depth, but that would be challenging and rewarding to voice. I voice protagonist Sam Walls and his mentor, Andromachos. Writing a game about therapy is really tricky, so being able to jump in revoice lines was a huge benefit for the game!

I also voice two of the therapy clients in the game, Dr. Drayne and Edmund Kean. Dr. Drayne is the kind of challenge any actor delights in, having three very distinct characterizations that have to seem natural, whereas Edmund Kean is the Shakespearean actor of his time.

As much as I'd like to save money, I couldn't voice all characters in the game, but I'm very picky about voices and needed a cast of the absolute best I could find. So I got them.

If you've played Hades 2, you've heard Sarah Grayson or Selene. Or maybe you know her from Gone Home or Tacoma? But I needed her ability to alternate between the very light and the very dark for murderous vampire content creator Meddy.

To play Isabella d'Este, a real historical figure and esteemed patron of the arts during the Renaissance, I needed someone with a sense of the theatrical and some excellent comic timing. For that, I turned to a very old friend, Kylie Clark, who comes much more from the theatre tradition that video games... which she doesn't play at all. Until Vampire Therapist!

For our fabulous goth bartender, Crimson, I needed the epitome of cool, sexy, and tantalizingly mysterious. You might know Francesca Meaux as Eurydice from Hades, but she went to some unexpected places to play Crimson!

I did say I wanted the best of the best, right? Vampire Therapist is a super low-budget indie, but if I'm going to fill a club with quirky, sexy goths, I need range, and for that, I got Matthew Mercer. Yeah, that Matthew Mercer. The Critical Role one. The one from Baldur's Gate 3. The one from all your favorite video games. How could I do less? He's playing Reinhard the sexy goth and Ciaran the goth priest in Vampire Therapist.

You can see the work we've put into every aspect of Vampire Therapist. I think you're going to find that it's unlike any game you've ever played.

It'll be out on July 18th, and you can wishlist it on Steam now!

And on GOG!

[papajohnnyspizza]

Stress Relief with Jeonghan

Summary: You're having a terrible day and Jeonghan decides to make you feel better.

category: fluff, smut

au: Established relationship, Jeonghan x f!reader

wc: 1.9k

a/n: was supposed to be 500w but I got carried away lol.

Warnings: smut, (breastplay, p-in-v, spanking, fingering), reader has female anatomy and uses she/her

The first thing Jeonghan hears when you burst through the door of your shared apartment is a pained yelp. It only takes a second for him to respond, leaving the romantic dinner he was cooking simmering away on the stove as he rushed to your crouching figure in the hall. 

“Y/n?” He placed a hand on your shoulder and started rubbing soothing circles. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” You stood up with a groan, he could see there was a prominent coffee stain on the front of the new blouse you had just bought. “My stupid heel got caught in the doorframe and I twisted my ankle.” You reached for your injured foot and started not-so-gracefully pulling your heels off. “Because of these stupid shoes,” you flung the heels rather forcefully on the floor. “that I wasted my money on!”

Jeonghan could see what was happening from a mile away, your boss had been putting your entire team under major pressure to finish your latest project in record time and it was driving everyone insane. He thought he would make a nice romantic dinner tonight to help ease your mind, but it looked like you might need something more serious.

“I made your favourite.” He said, watching you move into the kitchen and pause. Breathing in the delicious smell of his cooking.

“Oh,” Your moan from the smell was borderline pornographic, and Jeonghan took the opportunity to wrap his hands around your waist from behind and place a few kisses to your hair and neck. “Jeonghan what did I ever do to deserve you?”

He just shrugs and moves to turn the stove off, you take a seat at the table. The food is perfect, if Jeonghan does say so himself, he got the recipe exactly how you like it. You go over the horrible events of your day, not sleeping enough the night before, traffic making you late, your coworker spilling their entire cappuccino on your outfit, realising you had a typo in an email you sent to the entire company, and finally your boss pulling your team aside just before work finished to let you know he needed to bring your deadline forward to next week.

“I don’t know how he expects us to sleep until then,” You said, rinsing your plate in the sink. “I can’t get my mind off of work, it's driving me crazy.”

“I could run you a bath?” He suggests.

“I don’t want to clean the tub, and besides it’s getting late.” You let out a dejected sigh, leaning back against the counter, and despite your mental anguish Jeonghan can’t help but think how sexy you look in your little work skirt and blouse- even if it’s stained.

“What are you staring at?” Your voice knocks him out of his trance, and he suddenly gets an idea to try and cheer you up.

“You need a way to relax?” He slowly starts moving towards you, eyeing you like a predator does its prey.

“That would be nice.” You fold your arms in front of your chest, accentuating your chest and Jeonghan’s mouth begins to water.

“Well I happen to know an excellent form of stress relief,” Jeonghan’s arms cage you in against the counter, leaning over you until you could feel his breath hot against your cheeks. His hands move to your hips, squeezing lightly. “Would you like to try?”

Your mouth feels suddenly dry, and it takes a moment to finally nod your head as his hands untuck your blouse from your skirt.

“Tsk, Tsk. I need words baby,” Jeonghan’s nimble fingers start unbuttoning the bottom of your shirt, while his dark, bottomless, brown eyes stare into your own, as if he’s trying to memorise your face at this exact moment.

“Please, Jeonghan,” You whine, his hands brushing lightly over your breasts. “Please fuck me.”

Jeonghan pulls away slightly, and you’re almost about to scream when you think he did all this just to rile you up after the day you’ve had. But instead he reaches for one of your hands, raises it to his face and gently places a kiss against your knuckle. “Of course, all you had to do was ask.”

That’s when Jeonghan smashes his face against yours, his hips painfully pushing yours against the edge of the counter. You groan as soon as you feel his warm lips on your own, finally able to let out some of the pent up energy that’s been building up inside you all day. You shrug the blouse off your shoulders and Jeonghan throws it somewhere on the floor. His lips begin trailing down your neck now and you let out a gasp, your hands snake into his long hair and you pull lightly, receiving a deep groan in return.

His hands begin skimming over your bra, mouth sucking at a vein on your neck and leaving your mind completely blank. All you can think about is how good his fingers feel caressing your breasts, roughly pulling down your bra so he could attach his mouth to one of your nipples. Your back arches, pushing further into his face and one of his hands begins circling around your other nipple. Afraid you’ll hurt him, you remove your hands from his hair and grip onto the counter instead. Nails digging into the surface as he moves his mouth from one nipple to another, suckling and kissing and even biting, you notice his hips beginning to grind into you. Your hands reach for his waistband without thought, but your wrists are immediately captured by his hands and held tightly in his grip.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asks. His pupils are blown wide, lips red and swollen, hair mussed up from your ministrations. He looks gorgeous, you can’t take your eyes off him. The cool air of the room heightened from the saliva he left on your chest, it almost hurts.  

“I wanted to help you.” Your voice feels tiny in the silent room, Jeonghan’s eyes light up and you’re not sure whether to be excited or frightened.

“You do?” Jeonghan’s hand comes to trace along your jawline. His thumb comes close to your mouth and you automatically open your lips, thinking back to all the times you’ve been in a situation like this before. But instead he just chuckles slightly, closing your mouth for you. “Turn around.”

You do, you lay your front against the cool kitchen counter while you hear Jeonghan shuffle out of his own clothes. He doesn’t bother taking off your skirt, pushing it up until it’s bunched up around your waist. He pulls your panties down and lets them fall to the floor while you open your legs a little wider for him. For a moment he does nothing, and you feel pathetic again being left on the edge like this, but then you feel his cool fingertips running up along the inside of your thigh before stopping at the fullest part of your ass and squeezing. 

“You’re so wet baby,” He chuckles, leaning down to press a kiss right in the centre of your spine. “Is all that just from me.”

“Yes,” you groan into the counter, he moves a finger inside your walls, thrusting lightly and curling to meet your sweet spot.

“So sweet,” He removes the finger, hands gripping firmly on your thighs. “Are you going to be a good girl and take whatever I give you?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir!” You’re voice is breaking, unable to take any more torment. “I’ll take it all.”

“Good girl.”

Jeonghan sheaths himself entirely inside you in one go, pulling out almost to the tip and slamming himself back inside again. You’re not sure what to hang onto from this angle, Jeonghan’s cock perfectly dragging along your walls was making it difficult for you to think. You lost all control of your voice, letting out small pants and moans with every thrust of his hips. You didn’t even have the space, or the energy, to try and meet his hips. Giving him full control and allowing yourself to just turn your mind off and relax.

One hand moves from your hip and you don’t even notice until it’s circling your clit like your body is a toy. Your back arches with the feeling, you try to stave off your approaching orgasm but it’s futile against his fingers and his cock. You feel the heat simmering in your stomach and you know that Jeonghan can tell you’re close because he won’t let up. The coil in your stomach turns tighter and tighter. Jeonghan moves behind you like a man possessed, grunting and moaning in time with his thrusts. His fingers circle harder around your bud and suddenly the dam breaks and you cum, clenching down hard around Jeonghan and moaning loudly. He continues moving, much slower now, gentle movements sending you into oversensitivity. You can’t see his face but you can imagine what it looks like, face contorted in pleasure from the feeling of your tight walls pulsing around him.

“Hng, Jeonghan,” Your hand reaches behind you to try and still his movements. “I’m still sensitive.”

Jeonghan grips your arm, reaching for the other one and bringing them to rest in the dip in your back. “Y/n do you remember what you said earlier?”

“I would take everything you gave me-” You were interrupted by Jeonghan speeding up the pace of his hips, arms pinned firmly behind your back. Already you can feel the coil in your stomach building up again.

“That’s right, and you’re gonna do it,” He reaches a hand down your front to start rubbing at your clit. All you can do is let out a mixture of hiccups and cries as you clench down again, another wave of pleasure ripping through your body. Your forehead falls against the counter, sweat dripping down your face, you feel Jeonghan’s movements behind you getting sloppier, both hands squeezing around your hips again.

“Where do you want me?” His voice is shuddering, you know he’s not going to last much longer.

“Inside me.” Is all you can manage. Jeonghan’s hips still as he bottoms out inside you, and you can feel his warm liquid filling you entirely. It takes a moment for his breathing to calm, but eventually he manages to step away from you. 

Your body feels boneless but somehow Jeonghan manages to guide you over to your shared bed, laying you flat on the soft bedding and placing a small kiss on your forehead.

“Sure you don’t want a bath?” He says, laying beside you.

You laugh, and then you remember that you really will have to clean up before you go to sleep, which means you’ll need to clean the tub too, and you’ll have to go to bed late. You sigh realising the wonderful, relaxed spell you were under is now broken.

“What’s wrong?” Jeonghan asks.

“Oh, nothing,” You shrug, sitting up again to go to the bathroom. “Just thinking about work.”

You’re about to leave when Jeonghan grabs onto your arm and pulls you flat against the bed, crawling over your sprawled body.

“You’re still focused on that?” He tuts. “Guess we’re not done here yet.” His fingers enter inside your sopping pussy again and the sensation makes you gasp and reach for his wrist.

“Jeonghan I already came twice, I can’t take any more!”

“Oh yes you can,” He says, pistoning right into your G-spot. “And you will. You’re taking everything I give you tonight Y/n. And I guarantee you, you’re gonna sleep like a baby tonight.”

[stealingpotatoes]

some ppl very kindly loredumped abt the organa-solo kids for me so gonna put that + responses below the cut!! ↓

@erkhyan asked:

Don’t mind me, just dropping some Organa Solo kids lore, hopefully summarized enough. Anakin: both motivated and intimidated by the fact that his name was supposed to redeem that of his grandpa. Had his grandpa’s qualities (excellent pilot, great warrior, very strong in the Force) but none of his negative trait. Traumatized by being unable to save Chewie. Died a hero at age 16 during a successful mission to destroy a Jedi-killing weapon. Jacen: a big, empathetic goof as a teen, but was traumatized by the war that killed Anakin. The war and the trauma of Anakin’s death turned him into an introspective monk who went to learn weird non-Jedi Force powers. Returned, fathered a secret daughter, fell to the Dark Side because the Force told him that every timeline in which he’s not a Sith ends badly for his daughter. Became a Sith Lord by killing mara jade Skywalker. Eventually died when he found himself having to choose between saving his daughter from an Imperial plot, and dodging his sister’s lightsaber. Jaina: best pilot, best lightsaber user, best warrior, earned the nickname of Sword of the Jedi. Unfortunately, people mostly remember the fact that she was stuck in the world’s most annoying love triangle for two decades in-universe. And that time she processed the trauma of Anakin’s death by trying to seduce her Jedi Master. And that time she was in a bug hivemind that tried to solve her love triangle with a sexy threesome. And that time she went to train under Boba Fett so that she could kill Jacen in Luke’s stead. And also because the Jedi Order finally recognizing that she should have been a made a Master years ago, was almost the LAST thing that happened in the Legends continuity. Heavily implied that her husband would have eventually become Emperor (but a good one) if the continuity had been allowed to go on.

CHEWIE DIED??????????? also christ thats a lot to put on poor lil anakin jr-- ALSO AGAIN. POOR LEIA. HASNT SHE BEEN THRU ENOUGH (poor han too but LEIA)

WHY ARE THERE MORE STAR WARSES!!! LEAVE THEM ALONE!! a secret daughter hi i love those but AGAIN. POOR LEIA. A SITH. FR HE KILLED MARA JADE WHAT???????????? oh my god.

i support jaina's turboslaggery she's been thru so much also WHAT potential emperor husband????????? wow ok legends gets wilder n wilder

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@novastargalaxydesigns asked:

I saw your Jacen, Jaina, and Anakin from Legends! And as someone who freaking adores that trio, I'd love to help point out a few things! In Legends of the Force, Jacen starts to affiliate himself with the Dark Side with his cousin, Ben, as his apprentice. Anakin was killed before the book, The Joiner King, and I didn't get the book that he was killed off in, but if I remember correctly, it was told in The Joiner King that he was killed during a mission as a fighter pilot. Jaina, in Legends of the Force I believe if I remember correctly, she gave up being a Jedi to be a pilot. I don't have all of the Legends of the Force books so I may be a bit spiffy on a few things. But we cannot forget Chewbacca's nephew, Lowbacca aka Lowie, and Jacen's childhood and teen hood crush, Tenel Ka whom is a princess and he accidentally cut her hand off with his new lightsaber during the book Young Jedi Knights Lightsabers. And Zekke who went to the dark side in the series Young Jedi Knights (I only got the first 3), but was redeemed. Anyone please correct my nerdiness if I'm wrong. But anygays, you has been educated by a fluffy bean. Had a lovely day!

JACEN CORRUPTS LUKE'S KID??????? HUH?????? CAN THE SKYWALKERS NOT CATCH LIKE. ONE SINGLE BREAK FROM THE DARKSIDE EVER???????? PLEASE

sorry all i can think w the tenel ka thing is:

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@m0th-person asked:

To follow up on the solo kids ask, Jaina had a weird love life. Her love interest that she eventually married was Jagged Fel. He is the son of the former baron of the empire , Sootir Fel, and Syal Antilles-Fel (Wedge Antilles sister) . (a picture I found on Wookieepedia when he was imperial head of state, the white streak in the hair seems to be genetic) Jag grew up in Thrawn’s empire of the hand (and was grown up with the chiss expectations, that’s literally the second quote on his wookieepedia page)

he had 3 out of his 5 other siblings die. He eventually became the imperial head of state (he first lost to his rival political candidate for the role because abeloth messed with it) and flash forward to the legacy comics, his descendants have revamped the imperial remnant into the Fel Empire. It’s mostly believed that his descendants are also Jaina’s because both Roan fel and his daughter empress Marasiah Fel are both force sensitive. And Jacen Solo’s descendant , Ania Solo, says she’s a distant cousin of Marasiah. (Roan)

(Marasiah and her love interest) ( the imperial knights were grey Jedi that served the Fel empire) — and in legends Han actually had a family tree (ancestors, specifically, Jonash e solo (who was Corellian royalty and the admiral-prince during the old republic time period)) , and him and Jagged fel’s father used to rivals in the imperial academy. Darth Vader attended his class graduation and I only find this funny because Han became his son-in-law.

jaina was rlly living that booktok enemies to lovers life back in the 90s huh. go girl i love her and support her weird love life decisions so much

omg go han having fancy royalty ties <3 see hanleia IS politically advantageous

[fatesundress]

⭑ life of the party. tom riddle x reader

summary. when one game is ruined, another begins.

tags. explicitly fem afab reader, smut with as minimal plot as i can physically allow myself, minors SCRAMMM, loosely implied hogwarts university au as always, flirting via mutually assured jealousy, impeccable communication skills, established relationship, the guy the reader is talking to gets annoyed she doesn’t want him but he doesn’t do anything, religious undertones that might have accidentally become overtones, party setting (background drinking & general degeneracy), probably the meanest tom i’ll ever write and i still tried making him nice because lots of heavy jealousy tropes are misogynistic icks fo me, fingering, piv, a little degradation but that's life, fawwwk the weeknd but the song this is based on is so sexy, etc

note. Me writing this: nightguard: ON, religious themes: RIFE, shame: ABOUNDING. i am so embarrassed by this. have i mentioned smut doesn’t come naturally to me? i don’t even know how i got here. i’m on heelys at the proverbial skatepark and everyone else apprenticed under tony hawk. Do you understand? ok.

word count. 4.5k

request. yes!

He is what he is. Stoic, sacred, silent and then verbose. You knew he had his fixations before you knew him at all — no one made top of every class without a shadow of obsession to contrast the glint of their excellence — but you could not anticipate how that obsession might translate when applied to a person. You’re not sure he had either.

He is what he is. The muggle world taught him religion and in it he learned only the tenor of devotion. When his fingers take your jaw, trace slow at the stripes of your thighs, steady your hips from under you and hold tight, there’s reverence in it. His kisses don’t wane with the months gone by; they soften with purpose. They rouse with hunger. His eyes don’t waver. Should a good man gaze upon his altar? Should he smile like sin when he gets on his knees? 

He does.

Tom Riddle is what he is and you solemnise in equal part.

You don’t come to these things often, taken aback by the sight of the Slytherin common room in ribbons and banners tattered within the first hour of the night. Bottles glow green in the lake-light on every available surface, scattered about the place and spilled in sticky puddles. 

You’re a wallflower tonight, though not for lack of options. You observe from a comfortable distance the drunken antics of new adults, free to carry their liquor in hand rather than hidden away in pockets and pillowcases. There’s something vaguely entertaining about it, intoxicating where someone else might mind their business and actually get intoxicated, but you see no harm done. Whispers fall on your ears before the rumours make their rounds, couples slink away in the darkness where someone in the crowd might not notice, and the night’s first instance of someone hurrying up the stairs in tears comes barrelling right past you. You invent a story for why to keep yourself busy. 

It’s all just buzz.

Now, if you don’t come often, he certainly doesn’t.

Tonight, he has, and for reasons explicable but few, you’ve found yourselves on opposite sides of the room.

It began on the green couch by the window with a chess set spilled across the velvet — a bet you made with him upon arrival; you find wizard’s chess trite, Tom finds it feckless, but it makes for a good challenge. 

What else could convince a man so perpetually controlled to pour himself a drink? And you imagine, from his perspective: what else could convince a woman so determined to outwit him?

It’s for no nefarious reason — to slight him or see him stumble — but because you love the fractions of relief that colour him, soften him, temper him. It’s because he loves you in every shade, in every pliancy, in each and every fervour. But mostly it’s because you love kindly to best him, and he loves mirthfully to best you.

So you play. The game is slow and teasing, hard to see in the ripples of the lake, and toppled over in the final moves (which you’ll insist you were winning) by the same swaying body that spills its drink down the front of your dress. And so you’re up, brushing your index finger over the corner of Tom’s sudden scowl. You whisper like a joke not to kill anyone but he’s so quick to look like he might that you consider repeating yourself with more conviction.

You poke at the spot where his jaw is tense. “I’ll be right back.”

Drying liquor from lace is a matter of precision even with magic, and this is half-gelatinous like someone raided the kitchen’s supply of jelly and steeped it in something offensively alcoholic. You utilise the clearer light of the Slytherin girl’s lavatory, wetting your dress before evaporating the water from it. There’s the matter then of transforming the stained fabric back to its original colour, and you huff in the mirror at having a game you thought you didn’t care much for ruined so close to its end.

You care about Tom, though. The omphalos of your issue resides there.

(It is fair to say most of your issues reside there.)

With only minutes gone by, the common room crowd looks doubled when you return, and though you wade through you’re pushed back like debris caught in a tide, the bodies more stubborn rubble than you. So you retreat, stand flush at the wall with your arms crossed, and wait for Tom’s eyes to land on yours. To, perhaps, open your mind and let him in, tell him exhaustedly from afar that the game is at rest and you’re ready to leave.

But even he’s hard to find in the bodies unified in breath, flux like a big set of lungs —  and nothing about Tom blurs into the background.

So you wait. You wallflower. You pour yourself a drink.

The moment stretches on longer than anticipated, and after many detached observations of the room, someone else finds you instead. He’s tall, blond to Tom's inkwell black, kissed by summer sun even as autumn soothes its blister. Your gaze wavers back to him a few times though his own is uncertain for all its focus. He seems to be waiting for you to stop, perhaps for the silhouette of someone else to slip by and prove you were looking at them instead. When no one else comes, he traverses the crowd with a straightened inch of pride, stepping through new colours until he’s close enough to you that the light settles emerald-black and you can see the great chasm of his beauty up close. 

His freckles are carefully dusted, his structure strong, all squarish, rugged lines and shades of August.

The chasm is not a lack of allure, per se, it’s just a lack of him. One man’s August to your adherent’s December, the intention of his warmth, a thing that does not come to him like everything else but that he makes and makes and mends when it lapses because he does not want to see you cold. The singular reward of a rarity like that.

“Hi," you say, glancing over a broad shoulder.

“Evening," he responds. He takes you in with a look of (unappreciated) appreciation. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“No, we haven’t.”

He extends a hand. “Oliver Belby.”

“Pleasure.”

You don't offer much in the way of conversation. He’ll vie for your attention regardless of how much of it you offer. So you lean against the wall where the buzz of sound prickles your hair, let him talk, let his hand come up to rest beside your head, and you find Tom.

He’s right where you left him, a new clearing in the crowd making space for your eyes to meet.

His are ice even at a distance. As if you proselytise — as if you could — kneel for another man or let one kneel before you, all of your trysts together faithless.

They aren’t. He must know they aren’t.

But you put yourself here and standing at the target of his gaze has never been marred by the severity of it.

You decide then; when one game is ruined, another begins.

In truth, you can’t deny the element of theatrics in the way Tom denies everyone but you: his soft, penitent smile, the apologetic cant of his head, how his eyes can find you in any crowd and whoever is clinging onto his every word that night will follow his gaze and deflate when they discover you at the end of it. Sometimes it’s harsh. Final. He lacks the patience of pretence. 

Sometimes, the week is dull. Sometimes, the whoever is undeterred. Sometimes you’ve pushed him here. 

No — You’ve never done that before. This is new.

So it’s one of those weeks, and one of those whoevers, on an anomaly you may as well have directed the encounter yourself, and Tom is half-indulgent as he forces his eyes away and you force yours to stay. 

You watch him from across the room as the woman drapes herself across the arm of his chair. There's a furious blush on her cheeks even in the dark, a pretty disarray to her shoulder-length hair, skirts pleated over knees she faces toward him. She smiles and offers him a glass of something, and you know for certain Tom understands this game because he accepts it, eyes flicking back to you as he swirls the glass in contest. 

To that you take an inappreciable sip of your own.

“ — Which is why no one has even attempted to kill one in decades. And capturing one is another thing entirely. My mother works with the Greeks on occasion, and the nearest she came to a den was in the twenties. If she had gone any nearer I wouldn’t be here.”

“Hm?” You look back at the man in front of you. His lips glisten with having licked them between every phrase.

“The manticores,” he says, undeterred.

“Right. Five-X beasts, aren’t they?”

“That’s what I said. I heard from one of my mother’s colleagues that — ”

The woman is whispering something in Tom’s ear, her hair on his cheek. He’s looking at you as if you had said the words. You don't shy away when Oliver leans in to whisper too. It's a strange, fractured language. Too intimate while too detached. Whispers from across the room, desire from another in the place of desire for each other. But the strangeness should not surprise you anymore. This is Tom: beautiful and wicked and the one you chose.

“ — And Nundus are worse. Deadliest creature there is — ”

She’s laughing about something, the woman. Half-reserved, she’s angled toward the party despite her leaning on his shoulder and the dissipating inches of distance.

“ — They stalk in silence. Think of the size of one, right? They’re apex predators… so commanding and still they could be in front of you one instant and gone the next.”

You engage with detached interest. “Really?”

And now Oliver barricades your view, his other hand coming to rest on your other shoulder.

“Do we have any classes together?”

You blink up at him. “No.”

“No, right,” he says, eyes darting to your lips. “I’d remember you.” 

His hand comes up to cup your cheek, and you wonder if for some men one-sided discussions of class five beasts qualify as foreplay.

You place a hand on his chest, eyebrows raised and half a startled smile curled. 

“You’re not going to kiss me," you inform him.

His face falls, but with it, at least, does his hand.

“Did you hear me?"

“It’s loud,” he decides suddenly. “Can we go somewhere else?”

You’re not sure you believe that. 

You duck under an arm and search the crowd again. The woman is on the arm of the chair looking thoroughly dismayed, and for good reason —

Tom is gone. 

Your breath is caught.

“This isn’t… You’re not going to…?”

You flash Oliver with a glare. “So you did hear me.”

He makes a pathetically sad face, and you think: it’s a wonder he made it this far when his courtship evidently hinges on the subject of his affection not listening to a word out of his mouth.

“Goodnight, Oliver,” you say tersely.

“What was that for, then?” he asks, and it comes out practically whined.

“That was talking.”

“But you’re —”

“Belby.”

He is what he is. It shouldn’t surprise you when he appears beside you all fatal rage on a quiet lead, narrowly fixed to you. 

Tom’s cold is his median temperature, yes, but in moments like this it’s as much for you as his handmade warmth. He’d pluck the fingers off a boy like Oliver. The digits would string eaves like icicles.

Oliver is looking between you and Tom like something terrible has dawned on him, hands urged to his pockets to soothe the flames your unveiled ties to a man seemingly singed him with.

“Riddle — Mate, I didn’t… I didn’t know she was…”

Tom’s voice is flat, edged with something that makes his monotony sound merciful. “Pity. If only you knew as much as you talked.”

Oliver’s mouth opens and closes and opens again, but wisely he settles on silence instead of excuses, and wastes no time fleeing slowly into the crowd. 

The instant he's stolen by the wave Tom's eyes are on yours and they’re molten. You move to say something but his patience was for show — he’s dragging you by the arm out of the common room and into one of the dungeon's empty classrooms without giving you the chance.

“Tom —" You start to protest, mouth twisted in a scowl. “Tom, you're being —"

He shuts the door behind you and locks it with such delicacy your breath catches at the question of how badly he's holding himself back right now.

“I'm being what?"

“You're…" It's hard to formulate an answer when he's like this. “It was a game. Don’t pretend you weren’t playing too."

Tom inches in, chest rising with angry breaths. “A game, was it? Did he know that?"

“Did she?” you hiss.

“It certainly became apparent when she was discarded so that I might retrieve you.”

“It was as apparent to Belby, judging by the way he was left gawking.”

“And with great restraint I let him. A mercy I didn’t take his eyes so he was left without the ability.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, now I understand; the problem wasn’t the game, it’s that I played it better than you.”

He looks at you for a long time before casting a silencing charm on the room.

Oh.

Oh — your heart barrels off somewhere. You’re without it for a moment, breathless in the wake of the implication of a spell like that.

“Tom," you say politically, “It was hardly a matter of rescuing.”

He nods imperceptibly. “No, it wasn’t.”

“So we’re in agreement.”

He hums a non-answer.

Each step he takes forward, you take back. It's a peculiar way to have a conversation, but part of the game, you suppose.

Interesting he’s still playing.

You still gasp when you inevitably hit the wall, hands going to the carved edge of a windowsill.

“You’re terrible when you win,” he whispers. His lips brush your ear.

You shudder, mouth dry as you press against his shoulder. “You’re worse when you lose.”

His mouth drags down your jaw but he refuses to kiss you, still withholding something, still holding back in some terrible, electrifying way. Instead one of his hands starts to dip down your side. You shiver as he grazes the skin of your breast, exposed by the cut of your dress, and continues down your waist. His mouth traces your bare shoulder as his tongue makes a slow pass, skin beneath leaping at his careful ministrations.

With long, slender fingers he's pulling your dress off button by button, torturously slow, and you feel mocked to have cleaned it earlier. You feel foolish to have left knowing the night would have ended like this regardless.

“Tom,” you say. His name is followed by staggered breaths. Your fingers are clutching the windowsill.

The air is thick as he watches you, flesh exposed by each undone catch. And still he will not kiss you, even as his lips trail along your collarbone and you start to tug instinctively at his belt. He makes the barest sound of disapproval and spins you to face the window, your hands urged on instinct to press against the glass.

“Tom...”

He hikes your dress up your thighs. It clings to your hips, a meagre two buttons left attached to keep it from falling.

Your wand clatters as his fingers work the clasp of your bra and his teeth skim your shoulder, leaving little bites he laves at softly with his tongue. You shudder, arching into him, searching for friction. His touch traverses the shape of you and stops feather-light between your legs.

“Tom —”

“Quiet," he admonishes, a little tut.

Your skin jumps at the caress of his fingers tracing deceptively timid up your thighs, like he hasn’t done this before, like it’s care and not punishment. His favourite oxymoron: the gentlest torture, the cruelest succour.

His index draws upon the lace of your underwear and tugs it aside with a tenderness that makes you gasp. Is there a way to press harder to the glass without breaking it? Is there ever enough to grab onto when he gets like this — so singularly focused on ruining you? 

One of your hands latches onto the arm half-disappeared in your skirts instead, clinging steadfast to the white of its sleeve, your body swaying as if at sea. He keeps you steady, but this is his crown achievement: that he is all there is that can do it when you’re so singularly focused on being ruined by him.

The sinews of his forearm work imperceptibly under your fingers as he appreciates the newly unfettered flesh, two digits sliding between your legs, and he makes a satisfied sound against your shoulder at the wetness he finds there. 

You’re swallowing air with a moan stuck in your throat; too dry, you realise, and feel like you’re choking when he starts to move, gripping his arm somehow tighter.

As a rule, you know how much he loves this, but it’s tenfold under his jealousy and you think deliriously, probably wrongly, that for how much he enjoys pushing you you enjoy pushing him to get here. You’re his and he’s yours, there’s no doubt in it — but what he can reduce you to — this desperate creature, writhing and panting, trying in vain to satiate herself with a simple finger — this is the translation; the fruition of his fixations put to a person rather than a subject. This is what it is to be his.

Tom’s mouth opens in a smile at your throat, and there it feels more like bared teeth, a smile that is as animal as it is pretty. 

And still he whispers with all the affection of a lover, your name peppered between kisses.

His fingers inch inside you and curl. You’re wedged in the perfect balance of his discrepancy; your disciple and your devil. He worships you in white. He ruins you in it too.

Now his name comes out in a babble, wet, half-drooled. A nip pinches the little space beneath your ear and you clutch impossibly harder to his wrist, your free hand squeaking down the window pane as you grind on his palm. He crooks his fingers against a spot that has you seeing stars, thumb pressed to your clit in a subtle motion, and you feel yourself tip off into an unknown he aquaints you with often. In a blurry, flickering moment, the light gleams somewhere beyond the stained hues of the window. And that should be it. The edge is at your heels and you should be falling. But the sinful press of him at your back commands you to lurch against him, and when you moan for more he pulls his fingers free.

You stumble weakly into his chest, startled.

“What… What?”

“Ask me for it,” he says, his voice hoarse, markedly wanton in spite of himself. But there is hunger and there is greed. There’s a sacrificial lamb and there’s a hunted one— there’s religion and there’s Tom. He invents something that demands greater devotion.

And the sound of leather rasping serge and metal clinking metal reels your conscience in. There are no stars. There’s just him. His belt is coming undone.

“Tom.” You swallow. “I told you —”

“And I want you to ask.” He cups your jaw in his hand, thumb tracing your lower lip. “Nicely.”

Your mouth opens for him and you shiver, pressing further back for contact he doesn’t allow. Instead another small tut is whispered at your neck, relinquished to a kiss.

His finger brushes your teeth when you speak. “I want you.”

You feel him shake his head and you all but whine.

“I want you inside, Tom — need you — please.”

“Please?” he echoes mockingly.

“Please,” you say in an uneven voice, and when your tongue grazes his thumb he eases it further into your mouth with an appeased hum.

And so his zipper comes down and you hold your breath with the weight of your dress at your hips.

He pushes inside you with minimal pause, slow still, to relish the way your little pants hitch, stop, and shudder out in a broken moan; the way your breath is guided by his rhythm, how you’re shaped by him, fitted around him. You careen forward and your palms flatten on the window, trembling at the first thrust. Your fingers quiver down the glass.

Tom pulls you into him on the second, patience abandoned. His lips chase your pulse. His grip on your jaw tightens as his thumb pops free with a string of spit. He nudges deeper at a new angle, your body forced as far as it can lean back, gasping heavenward when your head falls helplessly onto his shoulder.

It’s profane. Your ears almost dull to the sound of his hips snapping against yours, the obscenity of your skin on what he offers of his, but you waver between earth and something else, brought back to him by the torturous sight of the edge he stole you from. Always brought back to him. 

He’s gripping your jaw in one hand as he pushes deeper, and your fingers are lost for purchase on his forearms, trembling to hold onto something.

When he pulls out of you at your brink again, you practically cry out. But you understand when he spins you around again, hiking you up against the windowsill, your shoulders hitting the cool glass with a gasp you barely register in the fog of your desperation. His eyes are dilated to midnight rings. The weight of his desire is frightening. The insistence to claim you better yet.

He wastes no time before slamming into you again, pausing at the hilt to watch your eyebrows wrench together before resuming his pace. When your mouth falls open, he swallows the noise that tries to come out of it.

It doesn’t feel like a kiss. It feels like the prolusion to a bite.

His fervour is all the reminder of how you got here in the first place; the teeth, the force, the grip on your waist. There’s a rough sound he makes in your mouth that you taste more than you hear. The vibration of him is everywhere. You’re too hot and it only occurs to you because your fingers are clawing at fabric instead of skin that he’s fully dressed and your last button has finally snapped, lace pooled on the classroom floor as he fucks you. The thought is consigned to oblivion as quickly as it came. It doesn't matter.

You're clutching at his shoulders, the nape of his neck — trying to kiss him back, but you feel torn in two by the intensity of his ministrations, a low, immolating pressure building in your abdomen. He’s proving something with you, and his is a relentless, unending appetite. You don't really stand a chance. You think you've known that from the start.

Tom is all-consuming. Tom is a force of nature, a whirlwind that sweeps over you. He leaves you breathless and somehow needing more as he wraps his hand around the small of your back and seizes you in place.

Still you find yourself wanting to be held tighter.

“T-Tom —" you sob through the kiss but he doesn't give you enough air to do it. He pushes harder, a rasp at the back of his throat, some carnal thing. He’s not withholding your release now; he’s spurring you towards it.

When he withdraws his lips from yours, his brows are furrowed in concentration. There’s a fine lustre of sweat on his forehead, stray curls pulled across dark, wicked eyes. The sight of him alone is condemnable, but it isn’t for you.

He likes to watch you like this. When your moans dissolve to the torn syllable of his name, again and again. The veneration. Your choked litanies.

You give them to him.

Sleeves drawn up by your body’s baser instinct for skin, you’ve carved a canvas of praise into his arms, marked up to his elbows where your fingers had jerked upward to rake at his back. This time, when you find the cliffside, nothing stops you from teetering off its edge. Flames dance across your skin in an explosion, your collar damp and bitten, your waist in Tom’s vice-like grip. One hard thrust and you’re falling.

The stars are blinding. You decide then they were made by him.

Your head lulls back as shocks of pleasure course through your body, the coil snapped, the hard shape of him inside you demanding impossibly for more. You stumble through the light, vision blurred, praying and praying and praying. His grip comes to find your jaw again.

You keen, addled through the ecstasy, barely conscious of the way his panted breaths hitch at the sight of you in his hands, soft-eyed and puddy.

He always comes apart soon after you, but it happens rarely that your body is so taut on the wire of rapture that his twitching inside you takes you with him. 

This time it does.

You sink against him, thighs numb and wet, one hand slipping dumbly from his figure and swiping across condensation-foggy glass. The second orgasm is an aftershock of the first. It’s slow. It feels like being caught from the last fall. You land in Tom’s arms and they’re holding you through whitened knuckles. His eyelashes flutter, ink-dipped twines of quills, and he steals the shaky sigh from your mouth by pressing it to his.

You kiss lazily and softly. The room feels sheeted in static. The electricity lingers on both of you.

It’s hard not to fall against the window when he slides out of you. You slump on quivering legs into his chest instead, heaving, spend trickling down your legs.

Tom holds you close, adjusting his trousers before sinking down to settle you on his lap. He wipes the sweat from your face and presses his lips to the feverish skin it plastered. Forehead, cheeks, nose, chin, whispers of your name down your jaw like a prayer answered. Your eyelids flutter shut and he kisses you there, too. His lashes tickle.

You love him more than you worship him. You think he likes that more.

He grabs your forsaken dress from the floor and slips it over your bare shoulders, summoning the snapped button back in place before he begins to meticulously clasp the rest together again. His mouth leaves a path at the skin under each one before it closes, and you hum in dizzy gratitude.

“That was,” you say in a very worn voice, “a terrible way to reinforce not making you jealous.”

He glares at you from one of the lowermost buttons and you giggle sleepily, curling a hand into his hair. “Don’t look at me like that. You liked it too.”

He leans back up at that, tipping your chin with his fingers, gaze darting over the wrecked state of you with a pleased gleam in his eyes. “You liked it? What a modest interpretation.”

Now it’s your turn to glare.

He is what he is — pursuit of buttons forgotten as you’re laid down on the moonlit floor to be reminded just how much you liked it.

taglist. @lyis @indimoss @poddzi @esolean @d1anna @maripositanoctruna @mentally-in-northern-italy @ronniemaximoff1234 @moobell55 @jaerang @ramayantika @saltwaterbythesea @acube07 @togenabi @adazito @kitcat334 @blaurghhh @shutupfinn @jaymeeshayden @lilu842 @leaosee @garfunkelworld @definitely-not-captain-america @multiplefandomstan @mangoesareorange [ note: inexplicably, a bunch of my tags aren't working. i tried to fix it but if you didn’t get a notif i’m sorry! ]

[lurkingshan]

Japanese QL Corner

Another show just wrapped up, but a new one takes its place next week. Takara and Mitsuya have really become the bright spots for me in this current run of shows; they make excellent bookends for the week in jql. Of the five shows airing now, four are streaming weekly on Gaga and the other is available via fansub.

Takara's Treasure

What a fantastic episode of a show that continues to get better and better. The way this story has slowly built our understanding of these characters, and their understanding of each other, is masterful and so rewarding. I really loved the direct conversation they had about Takara's post-graduation plans and what it means for them, as well as Taishin getting to the heart of things and reassuring Takara that his desire is welcome. I'm excited to get a peek at Taishin's family next week and see how they navigate whatever challenges they bring.

Cosmetic Playlover

Farewell to this very pretty show whose story did not make much of an impression on me in the end. It never found a coherent relationship arc or gave us any foundation for this romance to hang onto, and it didn't live up to the dark and sexy tone of its original promotion. But it gave us a lot of beautiful visuals!

I Hear the Sunspot

We've now spent an entire month on repetitive side plots designed to separate and cause insecurity for Kohei and Taichi, and I am over it. I understand that the show is faithfully adapting the manga, but this is the thing about adaptations: when you switch to a new medium you have to adapt the work to fit the new format. When you read a manga you can speed through side plots designed to stretch out the story, but you can't do that in a weekly airing drama. And yes, I have seen the arguments that this is primarily a coming of age story about finding yourself, but it's not doing that well, either. This job falling out of the sky for Taichi and his boss—who we are meant to read as someone with good intentions—encouraging him to drop out of school immediately to work full-time is a strange development. That it once again set off a spiral of Kohei and Taichi feeling insecure about their friendship and misunderstanding each other only makes it worse. I understand the intention: we are supposed to be getting that Taichi is embarrassed about this job because it's tied to his still ill-defined feelings for Kohei. But they haven’t unpacked his hang ups with admitting (or understanding?) that he likes Kohei back enough for that to land. We've spent so much time sitting with Taichi's broody confusion without gaining any deeper insight into its source or seeing him grow, which makes all of this just feel like stalling instead of important character work.

Mr. Mitsuya's Planned Feeding

gif by @my-rose-tinted-glasses

*sobs* Welp, the penultimate angst has definitely arrived. They distracted me with the possibility of dog death (Frito lives! THANK GOD) before sucker punching me with Mitsuya pre-emptively rejecting Ishida before their relationship could go further. And while I often roll my eyes at this kind of noble idiocy in the penultimate chapter of a romance, I think it's well-grounded in this story. Mitsuya has been worried about whether a relationship between them is right since he learned about Ishida's feelings, and on the heels of this blow about Frito's health and his sense that he burdened Ishida with this problem, he is feeling his age and his melancholy more than ever. He sees Ishida as a bright and beautiful young person that he would only drag down, and he does not yet understand that it was meeting him that brought this out in Ishida in the first place. The way he apologized and berated himself for asking Ishida to stay then hugged himself for that whole horrible conversation said it all. This also sets us up nicely for Ishida to finally make himself clear and do a classic jbl run next week (this show is ending too soon, I'm going to miss it so much). Thanks as always to @isaksbestpillow for providing her wonderful subs so we can all enjoy this beautiful drama. You can find the ep here.

Tagging @bengiyo to add this week's anime update.

[twopoppies]

Are the any new fics (within the last couple months) that are good? I’m in a reading drought and I feel like I’ve read every Larry fic there is :( I got so desperate I even thought about looking into f/m fics..

NOOOOO NOT THE HET FICS. DON’T DO IT. 😆

I think I’m just going to use your ask to post my year-end favorite fics. Hope you don’t mind.

It’s been a tough year for me, and I haven’t gotten to read a ton, but these are all excellent.

Secrets, Santa? By @indiaalphawhiskey (E, 19K) disaster gay Harry in all his bumbling, endearing glory still manages to make his incredibly hot boss (Louis) fall for him. This one has snappy dialogue, great internal monologue, and scorching smut. I’d expect nothing less from this author.

your lips in the low light by etherealbliss / @givesuethemoon (E, 21K) It’s been a long time since I read a Larry Uni AU, and this one checked all the boxes. This author managed to really capture the immaturity and obsessive emotions of university age lovers arguing and breaking up, and making each other jealous, and fucking and fighting some more, and ultimately making up. Harry is bratty and sensitive and Louis is dense and long-suffering and they’re perfect for each other.

Scorpions et Madragores by Stria / @nooradeservedbetter (E, 23K) Read the tags and author’s note on this one because there are some themes that could be triggering. This is a dark fic and Harry is a pretty creepy vampire, but the story is very well told and there’s a happy ending.

2 a.m. texts by everysingleday / @sun-lt (T, 30K) This was very sweet and very funny and had just enough sexiness (although I wouldn’t have minded more. LOL!) Link is to a download.

The Doppel Effect by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright (T, 6K) the concept for this fic was so original and a really compelling read, I can’t help but hope the author gets inspired to continue this ‘verse.

Danger I Can’t Hide by CelticSky (E, 227K) This one’s got all the tension and drama you’d expect of a World War II story—life and death high stakes, friends and lovers unexpectedly torn apart, battles and heroism, plus the added stakes of classism and homophobia—then add a slow burn, high risk, scorching love affair spanning years. If you want a story that’s complex and fantastically researched, plus lovers to root for, read it. It’s long. But I couldn’t put it down. When I finally did, I picked it right back up and read it twice more. It’s that good.

one conversation by fondleeds (NR, 1K) This really is just a couple of scenes, and the story is open-ended, but, if for no other reason, read it for the beautiful way the sentences flow. My notes on every fic of theirs begin with: “I wish I could write like this.”

Night Shift by banaanipoika (E, 9K) This was incredibly sexy and beautifully written. I loved that there was such a unique setting with so much descriptive language making me feel like I could smell and feel everything in that hospital room.

On The Pull by @homosociallyyours (E, 4K) Short, but really sexy and just the right amount of bittersweet and hopeful. Loved the characterizations and the smooth writing. So few people write canon Larry these days so this was a nice change of pace.

Devil in my brain, whispering my name by @lunarheslwt (E, 9K) i i thought this author struck a great balance between the dirtiness of a demon defiling an angel and the way the angel gave in to his desire to be defiled. Super sexy.

pull you closer (kiss me harder) by @sunshineandthemoonlight (E, 6K) This was absolutely beautiful — just the perfect amount of tension and wistfulness to make me tear up. But then it was sexy and full of hope at the end. I loved how Louis supported Harry and gave him exactly what he needed (and really, H gave Louis what he needed, too).

[narutocharacterpolls]

SEMIFINALS

HATAKE KAKASHI vs MAITO GAI

Reasons for submission under the cut

Kakashi

relatable as an adult

he is just an overworked guy who was told to watch some kids w LOTS of issues

needs therapy

good presence and guidance in Narutos life

interesting

cares about and is dedicated to his students very much

he is just cool

he is trying his best despite what he has been through in the past

is up for having fun but still knows when to be serious

was a narcissistic shit but grew out of it

has good intentions

sexy

wonderfully complex and well developed character

incredibly resilient and supportive

a sad and deeply broken man

always willing to give his life to protect them and his other precious people

just wanted everything to be ok for once in his life

hated Danzo

his friendship with Gai is adorable

the way he teases Tenzo is fun

he’s known as cool and aloof but in reality he’s a huge dork

Gai would want him to win

Gai

was instrumental in the success of the story - he may not have won against Madara, but he put fear in him and had it not been for hacks, he would have decimated him where no one else could

believes whole-heartedly in his student to the point of dedicating his life to making him a splendid ninja

came from nothing, worked his way up from nothing, and is now considered to be one of the greatest shinobi to have come out of the Hidden Leaf. People know and fear him

made Itachi bail. That man was ready to fight everyone else, but packed it up when Gai came on the scene

kicked Jiraiya in the face and never properly apologized

great salesperson - always has a spare jumpsuit to give to passers-by and hook them on his favorite brand. True influencer and fashion icon

had a bowl cut before it was cool

was a great friend to Kakashi, and was there for him during the highs and lows of his horrifically stressful life. Arguably saved Kakashi's life with his constant support, and the story could not have happened without him. Is considered by Kakashi - one of the most powerful and infamous shinobi in the world - to be his equal and his best friend

loves kids. Supports his own students like he was their father, and equally takes pride in Naruto and protected Sasuke after Sasuke's first run in with Itachi

in the anime, he is shown to be hard on the outside but clearly permissive in that he would sneak Chouji food in the middle of a mission and try to push Naruto into figuring out who Minato was

confident in himself and confident in others - he is everyone's biggest cheerleader and he isn't just talk; he'll work hard with you. When he says he'll do something, nothing will stop him and he will follow his promises even when no one is watching.

hot. Man has pretty privilege

amazing, supportive teacher and friend

he is always trying to be positive in such a dark world and cheer up those around him

he's so good to Lee, Tenten, and Neji, you can just tell how much he cares about those kids

his speech to Lee was super moving. He knew Lee was scared and made sure to be there for him

he was ready and willing to die to defeat Madara in order to save the others

an actual decent upstanding father figure

unbridled whimsy

excellent tits

[daegutowns]

your enhypen hogwarts boyfriend 

tags: hogwarts au, gn!reader, this is the grind rn

gryffindor: heeseung, niki 

heeseung: quidditch team chaser 

secretly (not so secretly) an attention seeker

please expect to hype him up and fawn over him on quidditch match days -- especially on matches with slytherin (he always has a bet with jay) 

“babe i need you to boo jay if he ever comes near you.” 

and he is so serious about this 

mcgonagall claims she doesn’t like him but he’s just lucky that he’s actually really good at quidditch (bc his transfiguration grades are not sexy) 

excels in defense against the dark arts AND potions but snape hates him 

he swears up and down he didn’t do anything this time to get detention but you know better. and he’s always begging the captain to not kick him off

“please, you know snape wants my left buttcheek!” 

talks shit before the match (especially to jay) and then feigns innocence if he’s asked about it 

this is the result of years of watching quidditch matches with his dad (their favorite team is the montrose magpies -- and he WILL badmouth puddlemere united if that team is mentioned) 

likes to sleep next to you in the library after practice while you study 

riki: quidditch team beater  

rebellious, passionate, and playful -- riki is a gryffindor through and through

always getting caught up in pranks. denies ever being inside zonko’s even though that’s the first place he goes in hogsmeade 

like okay ????

claims mrs. norris (filch’s cat) is best friends with him, but he has no real way of proving this 

shy about pda because of his friends, so he likes meeting up with you in secret and passing you notes in class 

…until he gets caught and has to read them out loud

then he decides that fuck it! it’s better to just air it out anyways. not his problem what they find disgusting! 

straight up livin’ that thug life y’all #getrekt

lowkey getting brainwashed by heeseung (go magpies!) 

makes up all his dreams for his divination dream journal but always makes it about you so he can pretend to be offended if someone says it’s fake

hufflepuff: sunghoon, jungwon 

sunghoon: prefect (head boy) 

this hard-working and kind-hearted boy is a true hufflepuff through and through

everyone thought by his looks that he’d either be in slytherin or ravenclaw, but it’s more obvious when he opens his mouth 

he’s kind of like cedric diggory -- super well-liked, popular, good-looking, and smart

he’s got all the hufflepuff girls and gays giggling around him n shit 

“first years follow me to the common room” and the new hufflepuffs are tripping over their feet trying to ask him questions 

it’s okay because he only has eyes for you <3 

haha jk sometimes he’ll tease you and say “are you jealous? you look jealous~” and then backtrack and say nevermind that he’s sorry and he doesn’t actually know what other people look like. in fact he only knows one name and it’s yours. 

he doesn’t really need to be doing all that but it’s fun messing with him 

goes around humbly (not so humbly) bragging about you until he gets smacked by snape for messing around during (but that doesn’t stop him) 

he likes taking you to cheesy date spots, like madam puddifoot’s tea shop or the covered walkway near spintwitches sporting needs where everyone else had their first kisses 

jungwon: quidditch team seeker   

well-rounded, responsible, and dependable -- these are all traits of a hufflepuff that describe jungwon perfectly 

to be honest, he’s really just here for the vibes

his favorite pastime is collecting chocolate frog cards 

(he is specifically looking for the gold and silver albus dumbledore cards that have been out of circulation for years)

he’s a very talented seeker, but everyone else’s praise doesnt mean anything. he needs YOUR praise specifically and will pretend to not like it just so he can hear it more (but you know better!) 

please help him study… he is definitely getting that quidditch scouting from a professional team but jungwon said he might get a T (troll) in history of magic 

he has a black cat named dooly that terrorizes him before he sleeps

you like dragging him to the kitchens to eat chocolate snacks with him before bed, but he gets nervous sneaking out sometimes

likes sitting underneath the big willow tree near the black lake with his head in your lap. please run your hands through his hair! 

ravenclaw: jake 

jake: quidditch team beater  

everyone really would’ve expected that he would’ve been in either gryffindor or hufflepuff just based on personality alone 

the sorting gave him a choice, and he just went with the house that had more of his friends that he made on the train 

he loves it when you show up to practice because now it’s even more awesome! now even more of his favorite people are in the same place

“babe look at this!” while he does a flip ??? 

if he falls off, now both you AND the rest of his team can laugh at him 

loves it even more if you show up to his games fully decked out (beyond his imagination) in his house colors, even if that’s not your house

he never expects this from you but he’s soooo happy when it happens that it motivates you to keep doing it 

self-declared next quidditch captain (and flitwick will give it to him) 

he’ll even tutor you in transfigurations (his best subject) for kisses, because despite being an athlete, he’s also got good grades???? sometimes god has favorites 

“if you think i’m a cool boyfriend, give me a kiss” 

his favorite type of date is sneaking out to the kitchens with you and sharing a pudding cake

slytherin: jay, sunoo

jay: quidditch team keeper  

unsurprisingly, jay comes from a long line of other slytherins

he’s pretty laidback compared to the rest of his family, but always insists that you go with him to family functions (because “baby they’re too boring without you!”) 

you two always end up at the snacks table gossiping with his cool cousins anyways 

flexes by buying you all your snacks on the train + of course covers all the dates 

pretty popular within slytherin house, but only because he’s good at quidditch and also has pretty good grades (in everything except herbology) 

hates the keeper pickup lines and jokes but likes 

lined up to be the next captain! 

claims he wants to work for the ministry of magic’s department of mysteries

“i got an image to keep”

whatever you say babygirl ^^

expects to be holding hands whenever you’re walking the halls with him

requires a good luck kiss before every quidditch match

sunoo: prefect 

a lot of people expected sunoo to get into hufflepuff! he defies expectations 

seriously, he made a name for himself within the house

with as ambitious as he is, it’s not that surprising to see that someone has confident and charming as him is in slytherin 

he’s someone with friends in every house, probably in every year too

he’s got an “in” with every club on hogwarts campus, so take your pick bae. the world’s your oyster! 

he flexes like jay, but instead of galleons, he takes you to restricted areas of campus using his prefect badge 

would actually help you break the rules if you wanted to

“you want to break in where?! okay, wait, let me get--” 

likes it when you compliment his thoughtfulness or talent in these areas 

his best subject is charms ;) 

his favorite pastime is watching quidditch practices with you, but all you do is yap together

[annaholak]

Wyrd Sisters Abroad

For this year's inktober I'm reimagining the three Lancre coven members, from Sir Terry Pratchett's Discworld novels, as modern day witches (and sending them on a trip to America).

So let me introduce you to:

Gytha "Nanny" Ogg (canon version)

Gytha is the optimist of the coven. She has buried three husbands (and that’s just the official count), she has fifteen children, innumerable grandchildren, an evil cat named Greebo, and only one tooth. She likes smoking her pipe, eating, drinking, playing her banjo while taking her bath, and singing (mostly “the Hedgehog Song” and “A Wizard’s Staff has a Knob on the End”). She always checks under her bed before going to sleep in the hope that there might be a man hiding under it (you never know…).

And:

the reimagined Gytha "Nanny" Ogg

Don't let her pink velour tracksuit fool you; she’s not one of the working out types of octogenarians (in fact she doesn’t do anything tiring if she can help it) - but she does like to be comfy (and maybe a little bit sexy - though she probably wouldn’t admit that). Her sneakers were chosen by one of her many grandchildren and “they’re red because Nana likes red and they have stars on them because Nana is MAGIC!”. Her witch’s hat has a red ribbon on it because she does indeed like red. Not pictured is her foul-tempered, evil-smelling, one-eyed cat Greebo whom, despite all evidence to the contrary, Nanny considers to be a sweet, harmless kitten.

Esmerelda (Esme) "Granny" Weatherwax (canon left, reimagined right)

Esme is the most intimidating of the coven. She is very confident in her abilities. When she says that something is impossible she usually means “for anyone except herself”. Accordingly she is not a good loser (she hasn’t had much practice); from her point of view, losing is something that happens to other people. She’s never scared of walking through a dark forest because she knows that the most terrifying thing in it is herself. Her implicit belief that everything should get out of her way extends to other witches, very tall trees and, on occasion, mountains. Despite being an extremely powerful witch, she prefers to use headology instead of actual magic whenever possible; she is a firm believer in giving people what they need, not what they want. She is Good and she is Right, but she's not Nice. She is feared and respected, but generally not liked.

In canon she is the most "traditionally" dressed of the three Lancre witches: all black, simple dress, sturdy boots, tall witch's hat fastened to her tight bun with hatpins, and the occasional vest. Her goal is to look as much of a witch (and as intimidating) as possible.

In the reimagined version she is still dressed in all black but I opted for a different kind of intimidating-older-woman style: the ageing punk rock virgin with the evil stare.

And last but not least:

Magrat Garlick (canon version)

Magrat's name is an accident; her mother wanted to name her Margaret, but didn't know how to spell it. She is the youngest member of the Lancre coven, and the least confident in her magical abilities (probably the reason why she rarely wears her witch’s hat - instead she prefers to wear glamorous green dresses that would suit more curvy figures than hers, and slightly wilted flower crowns on her unruly hair). She also has a huge collection of occult jewellery, is a vegetarian, and believes in folk songs and the Cycles of Nature. She is the most bookish of the three witches and an excellent herbalist - something even Granny Weatherwax (who usually calls her a “wet hen”) reluctantly admits. In “Witches Abroad” she inherits a Fairy Godmother wand, but is unable to master it; the only effect she is able to produce with it is turning things into pumpkins.

And:

the reimagined Magrat Garlick

As a vegetarian on a quest to save Mother Earth, she wears clothes made of natural fibers, vegan sandals, and reusable tote bags. She’s also wearing a witch’s hat (purely because I couldn’t resist the aesthetic appeal), but it’s dark green instead of the traditional black and the shortest one of the group. She still has a soft spot for crystals and magical jewellery though. She wears an ankle bracelet with tiny bells on it (she finds the soft tinkling weirdly soothing).

[silviakundera]

with the conclusion of Snowfall...

why do i enjoy Republican Era chinese dramas so much?

aesthetics! there is this blend of 1920-30s western fashion influences and traditional chinese garb & architecture that just pleases my eyes.

everyone looks very depressed & dangerous & sexy

chaotic period of transition - no matter if you're in the 1910's, 20's, 30's some absolutely wild historical shit was going down

cars and guns and gloves and swords. rotary phones!

dancing & drinking in night clubs, in glamorous pockets amid the violence & instability outside; a lil touch of mask of the red death vibes

end of empire themes, as a country tries to find its way after the end of the last imperial dynasty

there's those gangster, mob boss vibes from american and british dramas set in the 1920s, except everything is cranked up x100 because of general lawlessness; central government and law & order was a paper thin veneer over warlords

the start of WW2 from an entirely different perspective than the common narratives that I was exposed to growing up in the US (which is 99% stories about the european stage)

sino-japanese war / war of resistance material like Hidden Blade is fucking badass ok 🤷

in a time of resistance to occupation, colonizers encroaching, warlords fighting over cities, brewing civil war.... there are many different options of protagonists and unlikely "heroes" who are picking their battles and discovering what they are willing to fight for

Beautiful 👏 women 👏 in heels 👏and 👏 slinky 👏dresses 👏

Lots of revenge narratives. I love an over-the-top, bloodthirsty & destructive revenge narrative

Depending on the genre, there might be little or heavy politcal /patriotic discourse. But tbh none of the rah rah patriotism stuff distracts me much, because all the american and british produced stuff set around WW2 has rah rah patriotism & propaganda in it, so I just consider that part of the essential genre vibes. It's just another country's version. (Of course, others will have less patience when it becomes heavy-handed. YMMV.)

Dark & Gritty

Hidden Blade (film) - a masterpiece, if you enjoy dark WW2 spy films that play with narrative style and challenge the viewer to follow the story as it's woven. Had to review detailed historical context for the years in question, to be ready to consume. But worth it. I've watched it 3 times. 💀

Heroes (2024) - the very beginning era of this genre/the transition into repulican period. rocks fall, everyone dies. Primarily a tragic wuxia & pre-republican fusion. Excellent enough that I didn't mind the bleak storyline. 💀

Detective-ing

Miss S - adaption of 1920s Australian mystery procedural Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries, staring Vengo! ML actor of Snowfall

Checkmate - Agatha Christie stories adapted to the setting & time period, plus bromance. I watched half the episodes w my brother, as we are both huge agatha christie fans. It was fun if you can be chill about adaption changes.

My Roommate is A Detective - for mystery & bromance lovers. Same actor duo as Checkmate.

Detective L - don't know much about this one tbh

Romance arc, with a somewhat happy ending for the 2 leads

Provoke - Gorgeous, glamorous, vibes vibes vibes all day long. Revenge and romance. ❤

Fall in Love - sons & daughters of warlords and their supporters get sexy and dangerous and decide even joining the civil war is better than the prior generation's bullshit. This is an objectively bad drama that I really enjoyed anyway (it helps that I skipped every scene for the 2nd and 3rd couples). This one turns v propaganda heavy at the end, if that bothers you. ❤

Arsenal Military Academy - military training hijinks w a side of cross dressing romance. Xu Kai and Bai Lu! It's soliders and japanese invasion et al, so be prepared for the standard patriotism. Comedy & drama. HE for the FL/ML but expect character death in this subject matter. ❤

Rookie Agent Rogue - Late 1930s spy drama with small romance side-plot. Expect the standard wartime patriotism, like with Arsenal Military Academy. The draw is the lead actress, the FL from Princess Agents, Minglan, Legend of Shen Li. HE for the FL/ML but expect character death in this subject matter. ❤

City of Streamer - Older woman seduces younger man who is the son of her revenge target. Melodrama with people serving looks. ❤

War of Faith* - Young man just wants to join the banking industry and have a subtextually gay relationship with his mentor in peace, but there's a civil war going on. Protagonist would like to be excluded from this political narrative, but ultimately is forced to pick a side. ❤🌈 *(Is it censored gay romance? No, not based on a gay novel. So not officially! But some viewers felt there was a subtextual romance storyline #shenlai ; YMMV. The happy ending is Untamed-esque; implied only)

many, many pulpy mini-dramas about revenge! warlords! ladies with pistols! (Miss Mystery, First Marriage, Maid's Revenge, etc)

Also... (happy ending not guaranteed)

Siege in Fog

Love in Flames of War

Couple of Mirrors - censored F/F 🌈

Stand by Me - censored m/m 🌈

Killer and Healer - censored m/m 🌈

Winter Begonia - censored m/m 🌈

[fuckyeahgoodomensfanfic]

Good Omens Fic Rec: In The Room Where You Sleep

“It’s a nice idea,” Crowley chirped, grinning a little wider and making the butterflies in Aziraphale’s stomach flutter a little harder. “Except for the part where, you know, monsters aren’t real.” Aziraphale smiled with tightly shut lips, hiding the fangs that grew involuntarily sharper behind them. “Of course,” he hurried out with a polite laugh. “Speaking hypothetically, that is.”

Length: 27,657 Words

AO3 Rating: Explicit / Spice Level 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

Best for: After Dark, Vampire AU, Human AU

Triggers: None

Read it here, fic by ghostrat

*Minor Spoilers* Another delicious @mrghostrat classic! Seriously, every fic drop feels like an event, and the lead-up to this one was so much fun. If you missed any of the art/lore drops, head over here to check it all out. I swear, half the fun of these fics is the anticipation, and there are few creators in my fandom experience with such a presence. It's so impressive every time.

Like all this author's works, it's not just flashy gimmicks—it's excellent storytelling as well. Always engaging, full of easter eggs, and with such a strong narrative voice. I'm always instantly charmed and hooked, and this was no exception. I was giggling just as much as I was fanning myself from the steam. It's pretty much what it says on the tin: Vampire Hunter Crowley, who has a fetish for vampires, accidentally meets the Vampire of Soho, Aziraphale. Of course, sparks fly, and of course, they become obsessed with each other. But still, even after reading hundreds of stories about these two meeting, it never gets old. I still get butterflies from their forbidden love and the way they fit together. It's all so delicious!

I loved the world-building and lore in this, especially how Aziraphale changes form. It was a true highlight of the story for me! This really feels like the start of something special. I'm very excited to see the one-shots and bonus scenes that come after this. There's so much potential here to play with. Even though this is fully satisfying at its length, I can guarantee you'll be hungry for more of this universe. So make sure you're subscribed to this author. All the explicit scenes are skippable in this if you prefer, but I hope you do read them! They are steamy and thrilling, with undertones of pain, and blood. I'm sorry but Vampires will always be sexy, and I don't blame Crowley one bit for his desires! When is it my turn for a sexy Vampire to feed on me in the night??

Read it here, fic by ghostrat

[total-dxmure]

ngl im lowkey excited for cult ellie there’s nothing that i love more than unhinged characters like yes please baby kill all those people in my honor while you sing my name like a prayer 🧎‍♀️🤰

i’m super super excited to post! my plan is to have “marley and me” chipped down to the final few chapters before i finally post the first chapter of “sanguinarian”. i don’t want to have too many series going at the same time. i excel when it comes to dark romance or anything relatively “gore-esque” or spooky, so i’m super excited for you all to read it!

and yes! you get itttttt. morally grey characters have always been and always will be my kryptonite. there’s just something super sexy about a woman that isn’t afraid to kill, maim, or ruin others in your honor. plus ellie is going to be super possessive and territorial in this fic, and it’s great.

one bed trope, ellie has never been shown kindness in her entire life- girl is as tight as a rubber band and ready to snap. the sexual tension (and she doesn’t even quite understand what that really means) is going to be out the roof.

[evillemons]

WHAT SEX WITH TAEHYUNG WOULD BE LIKE (V pt.3)

~ everyone’s favorite part, based on the character as described in part 1 and part 2. Masterlist here.

*NSFW CONTENT*

(this picture is so fuckin spicy I love it so much)

• Perceptions on how Tae is in bed are quite mixed, but here is my take:

• I see him as borderline demisexual, and he takes a while before he’s ready to have sex. There’s a lot of buildup and he would think about it often, but he would want to make sure the time is right and that she is the right person.

• But when it happens… it’s kinky, sexy, and smoking hot.

• Candle wax, rose petals, champagne, dark ambiance, music. Their vibe would be moody and sensual, but loving and romantic at the same time.

• Tae is so sweet it’s almost painful, but he would not be timid in bed. I see them engaging in threesomes, public sex, role playing, or light BDSM.

• He’s quite dominant. Not in a masochistic way, but he likes to be in control. Because of this, he would most enjoy positions from behind such as doggy style, spooning while holding her leg up, or on top of her with her legs on his shoulders.

• OR he could be into extreme switching of power dynamics. I’m torn on this one, but I think either way he likes it a little rough.

• They wouldn’t hesitate to have sex in the car or to find a private room in a public space if they were horny in the moment. She would love to get him off under a table or in an isolated outdoor space.

• He wouldn’t turn down anything she wanted to try; in fact, he would be eager to oblige.

• He is extremely touchy and affectionate; his hands would always be on her face/neck, back, waist, ass etc. They would be all over each other, and there would always be a level of romanticism despite whatever act they are indulging in that day.

• He would kiss her neck, collarbones, and breasts aggressively.

• Loves eye contact and to watch her face as she orgasms. He would think she’s so pretty when she comes undone for him, all sweaty and makeup smudged.

• Like Namjoon, this man is excellent at dirty talk, although is a lot more explicit and occasionally a little degrading.

• “You like it when I do that?” “Cum again for me.” “Take off your clothes and open your legs.” “Touch yourself.”

• I actually don’t think they would use a lot of toys, as Tae would want to please her himself. He would be very good at multitasking and using his mouth, hands, etc. at the same time. He would love to make her squirt.

• Likes to be in control during blowjobs. Gripping her hair, thrusting his hips, telling her to look at him while he’s in her mouth. Would cum on her face or in her mouth without warning (although might feel bad afterwards).

• Oof, I can see him loving spanking. Like, hard, repeated spanking that leaves her with a red mark. Maybe with his hands, maybe with a belt or paddle.

• He would love if she wore skimpy lingerie, to which he might rip with excitement.

• They would be quite loud, vocal, and expressive together, with lots of demands and heavy moaning.

• Dirty shit aside, there are also times when he would want sex to be gentle, slow, and intimate so that he can show her how much he loves her. He may be freaky, but at the end of the day he is still a romantic at his core and would value his partner a ton.

[chloessleepystories]

A New Treat

Mind control, Drugged, Female/Female

"Trick or treat!!"

A common scene in suburban Anytown, USA. Small children running from house to house, shrieking, parents walking along behind them. And two teenage girls, with a bit of gore makeup and torn clothes - just enough to suggest zombie versions of themselves, but not so much that they weren't still attractive - standing on a porch, in the light of an open door.

“Well, what have we here?” the man said, leaning on the door frame with an easy smile. “The sexy zombie, an excellent choice.”

The blonde one giggled. “You think we’re sexy, mister?” she said, throwing out a hip.

“Don’t be gross, Jess,” muttered the other zombie.

The man laughed. “You guys look great. How old are you? Still in school?”

“We’re seniors. We were supposed to go to a party, but our friends bailed on us after we already had our faces on, so we thought we’d take a walk, get some candy.”

“Wise choice. You haven’t had too much of ‘Aren't you a little too old for trick-or-treating,’ I hope...”

“Nah,” said Jess. “Once or twice, but overall, people have been really nice. What’s the harm, right? It's Halloween!”

“Exactly. And better than a lot of things teenagers could be getting up to. Hang on."

The man turned, and passed his hand over the big bowl of little candy before reaching into the little bowl full of big candy. He handed the girls a pair of chocolate bars.

"Full size candy bars? Awesome! Thanks!"

"Happy Halloween, you two. Have fun tonight."

He smiled, showing his teeth.

They waved, and hopped down the steps, giggling as they headed toward the next house.

The man closed the door slowly, watching them go. On the back of the door was a small chalkboard, with a piece of chalk attached by string. He carefully took the chalk and added two tally marks to the marks already counted there ...

***

The leaves were crunchy underfoot as Jessika and Dionne crossed the quiet suburban street. It was dark enough that there were fewer kids out now. Most of the younger ones had been taken home.

“My bag is getting heavy,” said Jess.

“Oh, poor baby! I’ve got so much candy, I can hardly carry it all,” laughed her friend. “ ‘I can’t close my wallet cuz it’s too full of fifties, and my diamond shoes are too tight.’ ”

“Stop it.” She gave Dee a playful shove.

It was a nice warm night, warmer than average for Halloween. A nice night for a nice walk with her best friend.

“I’m gonna start eating my candy, I’m hungry.”

Then they both shouted, “Hungry for SUGARRRRR…” One of their many pointless running gags, whose origins were lost in time.

“So what’s your boyfriend doing tonight?” asked Jessika, rummaging in her bag.

“Oh, you know, nothing much. Just being useless. Call of Duty, I think, or one of those games that’s more important than going to a party with his – What?”

Jess had let out a squeal. “I forgot about this! Lookit that big-ass slab of chocolate…” She produced the bar from the man they’d dubbed “Mr King Size” – a nickname that had kept them in stitches for blocks. “I’m starting with this … “

It was some kind of off-brand chocolate – not a name they’d ever heard of before. But that didn’t matter, “Chocolate Fog” was exactly what she needed right then. She tore it open and broke off a piece, then moaned, in shocked exuberance.

“Holy cow, what am I eating?! My mouth just had an orgasm!”

“Gimme!”

“You got your own …”

“One piece!”

“Damn, it even smells good. Here, smell it.” She held the chocolate under Dionne’s nose, and was a little impressed – and a little aroused – when she saw her friend’s eyes flutter. Dee’s mouth hung open a little, and her eyes glazed for a second.

“Oh, fuck, that smells divine. Where’s mine …”

Dionne had to fight back a sudden impulse to dump the whole bag out just to find the candy bar. She got on her knees on the sidewalk and dug around with both hands and it didn’t take long to find the biggest piece of candy. In seconds she had torn off one end of the wrapper, broken off a square, and stuffed it in her mouth.

“Oh godd why is that so good …” moaned Dionne, lying back on the sidewalk. “Am I just that chocolate-starved?”

“Get up, you lunatic!” laughed Jess. She had already chewed up a second piece, and was licking her chocolatey fingers. “Mmmm, I’m definitely going to have to find some more of these at the store …” She sucked on her fingers, not wanting to take them out of her mouth, in case she found a little more chocolate taste. “Geffup,” she said indistinctly, giving her friend a gentle kick.

Dionne leapt dutifully to her feet, and they walked on. “Here, I’ll show you good I think it is,” said Dee. She peeled back the paper and sucked on one end of the bar, then started pushing it slowly into her mouth. Her moans took on a sexual quality.

“Eww you’re disgusting!!” screamed Jess, finally taking the fingers out of her mouth.

Dionne put a hand to the back of her own head, and pushed her head onto the chocolate, simulating someone forcing it deeper and deeper into her mouth. Jess howled with laughter as she broke off another square.

Dee had felt the chocolate hit the back of her throat, just for a second, and now, as she pulled the bar slowly out of her mouth, strings of drool hanging between it and her lips, she panted. A light sheen of sweat showed on her face as they approached the streetlight, and her eyes seemed a little out of focus as she gasped breathlessly.

“Here, watch this,” said Jessika. The square had been melting between her warm fingers for a moment, but now she held it up to run her tongue over and around the dark chunk. Around and around her tongue swirled, as she made oral love to it, watching her friend with a smirk.

Dee licked her lips as she watched, mesmerized … staring at the chocolate. Staring at her friend’s tongue. Jess popped it into her mouth, and Dee, still not smiling, just watched. Watched her lips as she chewed, the tongue that came out to lick the lips … Then her eyes moved to Jess’s chocolatey fingers.

With a sudden grab for her wrist, she sucked Jess’s fingers into her wet, warm mouth. Dee’s eyes closed and she shuddered a little as she tasted the chocolate. Waves of pleasure tremored through her body and she moaned, and kept sucking, working her tongue between the fingers, poking her fingernails into the back of her throat.

“Oh god,” Jessika breathed, open-mouthed at this performance. Dionne really looked like a zombie for the first time all night – heavy-lidded, dull-brained, drooling, and needy.

Having her best friend suckle on her fingers was sending warm tingles through Jess’s core. A fluttering in her belly … and lower …

“Hey … Hey Dee –“ she gasped, pulling her wet fingers back to grab the chocolate bar. She broke off a piece, then waved in front of her zombified friend’s face. Dionne’s eyes followed it back and forth, her mouth open slightly. Jessika put it between her own lips, holding it in place with her teeth, and smiled.

Dionne didn’t hesitate. She moved in, kissing her friend passionately. They bit the chocolate in half and each kept chewing and tasting while sucking on each other’s tongues, hands groping their clothing, their skin …

Jess’s hand pressed into Dee’s cunt.

Dee lifted Jess’s sweater to squeeze her breast.

Jess bit Dee on the neck, licking and sucking.

Dee hungrily brought her lips to Jess’s nipple, even as she squirmed against Jess’s insistent fingers.

Jessika pulled her tight little sweater and bra over her head, smiling.

Dionne pushed her friend back into a huge pile of leaves, and leapt on her, devouring her juicy tits, lifting her skirt, ripping off her panties, and diving tongue first into the first pussy she’d ever tasted. It was juicy, and warm, and delicious, and her mind swooned with flavor and desire and need.

Jess held her friend’s head in place, humping against her lips, knowing her turn was next, needing to give as much as she was receiving.

Dee growled like a werewolf.

Jess screamed like a banshee …

Later, as they rested in the crunchy pile of leaves – feeling like children, but not at all like children, resting from their play that was more than play – Dee stroked Jess’s hair as Jess cooed and smiled muzzily.

“That was amazing,” murmured Dee. “I’ve never felt anything like it.”

Jess looked up, kissed her friend’s mouth. “Let me take you home. I’ll sneak you into my bedroom for a while before you have to go home.”

Dionne bit her lip, thinking. Her boyfriend wouldn’t even miss her.

“We’ve still got some of that chocolate left,” Jessika sing-songed.

Dee grinned. “Deal.” And they helped each other out of the leaves and into their clothes, and walked off hand in hand, to enjoy more of this new treat they’d found … each other.