#this was a fine if not particularly stimulating read

[dazais-guardian-angel]

Dazai Osamu and the Dark Era: the visual novel (a fan project)

On a whim, I've decided to finally just publicly release this project that I've had laying around for two years at this point, for Dazai's birthday today. It was originally made for my very dear friend @letmereachforthestars , when I first introduced her to the series and wanted her to be able to read my favorite BSD light novel in an easier-to-read format. You need a computer to be able to play. The details and links are under the cut:

If you've never played a visual novel before, it's basically a novel in the form of a video game. Text will appear line by line, one a time on the screen, and it will be accompanied by relevant background visuals, music, and sound effects, to make the reading experience more immersive, and more stimulating than just reading from a book. Some visual novels have actual gameplay elements to them, and some are just books and nothing else (oftentimes dating sims/choose-your-own-adventure novels), the latter of which this is. If you've played the mobile game Bungou Tales/Mayoi, the story sections of that game are basically mini visual novels.

This game was made with screenshots and music from the anime, sound effects from the anime and Bungou Tales and free sound effect online sources, as well as graphics and fonts and other assets from Bungou Tales and other official BSD art (particularly the official anime soundtrack cd covers). The script is taken entirely from the official Yen Press translation of Dark Era, with the exception of about two or three iconic lines that I used different translations of because I felt like they had more impact. Additionally, at the very, very end, I added on the original ending scene from the Dark Era stage play and wrote a few fanfic lines of my own to accompany it you can tell because they are very cringe and don't match Asagiri's writing style.

Before playing the game, there are a few very important things to keep in mind; PLEASE read all this:

I am not a professional in the slightest. I took some coding classes in high school, and have some photoshop skills (when it comes to the design elements of the menus), but for the most part the former wasn't much help here; this was my very first time ever using the Renpy engine, and I made this entirely from scratch. I used my knowledge of playing other visual novels to emulate the kinds of effects and timing that is typical for these games, and I think it turned out pretty well all things considered, but it's still very amateur. This is most evident in the sound effects. The sound effects have no volume consistency between them, and some of them, particularly the gun/battle sfx, can come on very suddenly and be loud. I highly, HIGHLY encourage going into the settings and turning down the sound effects volume (the music should be fine), so that you're not startled by certain sounds when they happen, and for a lengthy time. I wouldn't blame you if you decide to turn the sfx off entirely if's too distracting, honestly 🫠 I am no expert in sound files equalizing and making sound files loop seamlessly, so this was by far the most tedious and frustrating part of the process of making this for me. Hopefully it doesn't ruin the game or break immersion too much if you decide to leave them on (I hope you do, for the rain and clock sounds at least, but again I wouldn't blame you if you can't).

Dark Era is the most faithful light novel adaptation in the anime, but there are still a handful of scenes, mostly fight scenes, that got shaved down significantly. Because of this, there are numerous occasions where I had to simply linger on a black screen or the same screenshot for a long period of time, while tons and tons of narration happens, because there's simply nothing I can show to accompany said narration. This is not ideal, but unfortunately I didn't have much else of a choice in those instances, so I hope it's not too distracting. There are also a few instances of straight-up inconsistencies between the novel and the anime (ex. the fight between Oda and Akutagawa happens in the woods in the novel, but in the anime it's still right outside the art museum), so sometimes what you're reading won't quite match the screenshots I use. Fortunately it's never anything major, but it does happen.

There will sometimes be long, unchanging black screens. Don't worry, the game isn't broken; just wait long enough and it will continue.

Sometimes, a character will get cut off when speaking, and when that happens the dialogue will auto-force to the next line. If you didn't get a chance to see what was said before, check the text backlog/history (in the menu or the H key).

Last but not least, this game was made with the default text speed in mind. Meaning, that when it comes to certain specific scenes, the mood/tone of them, made up of the timing of music, transitions, sound effects, etc, all of it was arranged around the speed at which things progress when using the default text speed. I completely understand if you can't, but if at all possible, please try not to change the text to go too much faster or slower, especially faster, because certain scenes will lose a lot of impact otherwise. If you already know Dark Era, you probably have an idea of some of the scenes I'm referring to. At the very least, during the more high-stakes/intense scenes, please try to play through those all at once without stopping, for the greatest impact based on how I designed the game, and only pause/quit during the slower scenes. There are specific moments that I'm really proud of how they came out, and I'd like for them to have the maximum impact that I intended :') (also note that if you make the text appear instantly, the cut-off dialogue mentioned above simply will not appear at all, and you won't even know to look back for them, so please refrain from making the text instant at the very least)

Ignore the cringe sappy final message

...I think that's everything. With all that out of the way, here are the links for both PC and Mac:

Download the PC version

Download the Mac version

This was a passion project for me for a good many months back in 2022. It started out just as a gift for my friend, but in the end I was really satisfied with how it turned out, despite how tedious and frustrating it was to work on. I've been hesitant to share it with the fandom for all this time because I kinda doubt anyone would really be interested in something like this especially since it's not stormbringer or beast, but someone on discord who tried it told me that I should share it, so here it is. I'm sharing it not just because I'm proud of my work, but because Dark Era is a truly amazing light novel — underrated, in my opinion (yes, I said what I said) — and far better than the anime adaptation, as good as that is, and I want more people to read it. If reading the books is hard for you and you've never read Dark Era before, if I can help just one more person to read it with this, I'll be happy, and consider my job done. 💖

I so desperately want to make more of these visual novels for the other light novels, but sadly, some of them simply aren't possible thanks to how many scenes are missing from the anime, like with Entrance Exam in particular. I've also been waiting with vain, thin hope that Bungou Tales will eventually reach seasons 3 and 4, so I can use their Fifteen and Untold Origins title screens like I did here, if those ever exist. However, I'm also held back thinking about certain scenes that would require some redrawing/drawing additional details to match what's written in the novels. If anyone has any ideas on things I could do to possibly get around these issues, or just thoughts in general about how the other light novels might be tackled, or if you're an artist who can recreate the anime's style and takes commissions/knows someone who does, I'd absolutely love to hear from you! As well as any advice/help on how I can smooth out/improve this project here!

Anyway, sorry for the long wall of text. Thank you for reading all this, if you did, and if you do try the game, please let me know your thoughts; I crave any and all feedback. 💙✨

[lairn]

Book 3/24: Dragon Hoops by Gene Luen Yang Rating: 3/5

This comic was fine. I’ve read two other Yang graphic novels and prefer them to this one, but it was still engaging enough. He follows the path of a high school basketball team as they attempt to win the state championship while Yang negotiates the challenges of managing a personal life and telling a “true” story.

I think Yang could have done more to engage with the struggle to write non-fiction as entertainment, as I get the feeling that in some ways that is what interested him most - more than a story about basketball. But he is clearly invested in the story itself and wanted to tell some version of it.

I’m a little puzzled why he gave himself a different typeface than everyone else. He starts as an outsider, so in that sense the text difference is sensible, but even when he is in his element with his family, his speech remains distinct. I’m not sure the choice entirely works.

I enjoyed the chapters dedicated to fleshing out the players. I don’t think Yang’s character design is very strong (as he says himself, he’s no good at caricature), so chapters focusing on individual players were crucial for reader investment. He does some nice work with repeating visual motifs, but ultimately the art is a little dry and characters remain indistinct.

[nanaslutt]

Hiii hope you are well ❤️💜💕💕you're a amazing human being and I love your work 😘💖 requesting sukuna fucking you from the back while holding you in a choke hold with his big bicep (true form or not it's fine)?

Have a wonderful dayyy😭😭💜

This is uhhhhhhhhh read at your own discretion (ILY nonnie ty for the ask<3)

Contains: fem reader, true from sukuna, double penetration, blood, so much degradation, dirty talk, manhandling, rough sex, hair pulling, passing out, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, blood, dacraphillia, cumming inside, talk of pregnancy, dub con if you squint, mind break, strangling, breath play

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

"Fucking." thrust "Take it." thrust. Sukuna fucked his inhumanly large dicks in and out of your holes at an almost intolerable pace. He had completely filled you up, not a single ridge inside your pussy was being neglected as his massive cocks abusing your sore holes.

He had two large lands gripping your waist, while he dug his nails into your skin, making pretty streaks of crimson blood drip down your hips and thighs. One hand was dangling by his side, occasionally leaving harsh slaps against the fat of your ass, while his other—arguably the meanest limb—currently had you in a chokehold.

The massive curse would squeeze his arm around your throat and completely constrict your airflow before he loosened it for a couple seconds, laughing at you while you gasped and sputtered, choking down the oxygen he allowed you to. You were positive he had ripped you open at some point, it had been hours and you still hadn't adjusted to his cock properly. Every time he pulled back his hips and thrust his cocks inside you, you felt like your guts were being shoved out of the way to make room for him.

You had gone numb to his nails that dug into the flesh on your hips, too focused on the painful pleasure you were feeling between your legs. "Fuck! Fucking bitch-" He cursed, squeezing your neck tighter and leaving a mean slap on your ass when he felt you cum around him for the nth time that night. The pulsing and clenching of your walls made the pace of his hips stutter before he got ahold on himself again. "Did I say" slap "You could fucking" slap "Cum?" he snarled, spanking your ass so hard you swore it would leave a permanent imprint of his hand against your skin.

"'M s-ooryy, sorry s-ahh!" You tried to speak through his heavy thrusts, but he was having none of it. "Didn't say you could fucking talk either," The king emphasized with a particularly hard thrust, that made you dizzy as you yelled out in pain. "Gotta shut you up." He growled, pausing his hips for a second before he cupped his free hand over your mouth, completely covering your mouth and nose as he once again squeezed his bicep around your neck. "Try not to die." He laughed menacingly into your ear before his hips started up a bruising pace.

Your eyes immediately rolled back into your head at the overbearing stimulation. You were thrown into fight or flight mode when you tried to gasp against his hand but to no avail. Sukuna kept his hand firmly pressed over your face to ensure that no oxygen would enter your lungs. "Aww, is the little slut crying?" He giggled, staring down between the two of you at the mean arch he had you in, watching his cock leave your asshole, lined with streaks of blood.

"You wanted this, kept fucking around so I brought you into my domain like you wanted." He snarled, gripping your jaw with his current hold on your face and turning it to the side so he could get a glimpse of your expression. Your face had gone pale, save for the deep blush that covered your cheeks. Your eyes had lost focus, continuously rolling into the back of your head with each thrust he gave you, and your soft cheeks were wet with your tears—those same eyes had begun to swell up from how long you had been crying.

He was right though, your fucked up body was loving this, you would scream that from the rooftops if he allowed you to, but right now it was quite evident he didn't want anything to do with your voice. "Oh fuck." He laughed, his four eyes all staring into yours as you did your best to keep yourself awake, trying to maintain eye contact with the curse to the best of your ability. "You really are crying." He bared his teeth to you as he smiled maliciously, both of his cocks twitching at your fucked up expression.

He watched intently with bated breath as your eyes fully rolled back into your head, your body going limp in his hold as he smiled, "Yeesssyesyes, fuck." He groaned, before releasing his hand from your mouth and simultaneously loosened his hold on your neck. Immediately his big hand started slapping your face harshly, "You don't get to get out of this that easily." He laughed, watching you slowly regain consciousness against him as you coughed and sputtered into the air when you came to.

"How was your nap?" His laugh vibrated your body, at some point he had picked you up a couple inches off the ground, and you internally thanked him as you had lost feeling in your legs quite a long time ago. Your moans echoed loudly in the space of his domain, whines turned into screams when he scratched his nails deeper into the skin of your thighs, reminding you of his hold there.

"You're a fucking mess." He chastized, as you gasped and cried into the space in front of you. Your smaller hands came up to grip his bicep, using the little strength you had left in your body you push his arms towards your neck once more, silently telling him to choke you out again.

Sukuna's eyes shot up in disbelief, were you seriously trying to order him around right now? You had balls, he would give you that. "Oh you want to die don't you, bitch?" He snarled, releasing you from the chokehold he had you in and instead used two hands to wrap around your neck and strangle you while he fucked his hips into you impossibly harder.

“You like this? Huh?" He growled as your cunt unashamedly squeezed around his cock, "Such a fucked up human I caught." He laughed to himself while you gasped and clawed at his hands, leaving angry red marks on his skin. "What's wrong? Gonna pass out again? Huh?" He cooed, feigning remorse while he felt your body try to fight back against him.

Despite how bad you had wanted him to choke you out, your body was going to register his actions as a threat no matter what. "God, stop fucking squeezing or I'm gonna cum inside." He said, making you panic slightly. You weren't on birth control, but you weren't even sure if a curse could get a human pregnant. Sukuna was a special case, which made you even more confused. Not like you had the brain power to go over the logistics of that right now anyways.

He felt your cunt and ass squeeze his cocks simultaneously at his words, also noticing how you tried to shake your head at him, warning him not to. "Oh does that scare you?" He asked, unimpressed when you continued your annoying moaning and babbling, not answering him. "I asked you a question, brat." He growled, squeezing your throat harder for a brief second before he loosened his grip, allowing you to breathe.

You gasped and choked on the oxygen, trying to turn your head to the side to look at him when you spoke, making little progress in your efforts as his hold on your neck was quite strong. "N-no, do-nt cum insdie." You cried, making him smile at your weeping face. "No?" He repeated, pouting his lip out at you in faux sympathy, "But I want to." He said, shaking your neck in his grasp and making your empty head shake around like a bobblehead toy.

You had no strength in your body left to fight him, opting to face your fate and let him have his way with you, you would deal with the consequences later. You couldn't lie that the thought of this terrifying man filling you up in both holes for the first time didn't excite you. The rational part of your brain was slipping further and further away from you the longer he fucked you. He was hitting all the right spots inside you, and at some point, the pleasure had started to overwhelm the pain.

He noticed your body had stop stying to fight him, falling limp to his ministrations as he pressed his hips flush against your ass and rotated it in circles, "You want my cum inside you, human?" He asked, his deep voice against your ear sent goosepumps down your arms. "Wanna be my concubine huh? Ill keep you here forever," He groned, his hips still rotating in circles and massaging your sweet spots, "Ill fuck load after load into your used-up cunt, till I get you pregnant." His voice was pushing you closer and closer to your orgasm.

You knew this was fucked up but you couldn't bring yourself to care right now, he was working you over so fucking well. "Yesyesyes Sukuna~ S-sukuna pl-ease~" Your hoarse voice whined out, broken up by his thrusts. In any other scenario, he would've cut you down for using his name without permission, but right now, your cunt and asshole were milking him quickly toward his orgasm, he was too close to care. He groaned at your words, his large hands abandoning their place around your neck to grab your tits and massage them, digging his nails into the flesh there, hard enough to draw blood as he used your body to ground himself.

"Fuck- sloppy fucking pussy gonna make me cum-" He groaned. His eyes wandered up to your neck, and he shook his head at the dark purple marks that littered your skin there, he couldn't help but think how fucking pretty it looked. The sight brought him closer to his high as his hips started losing their pace against your ass. "P-please- c-can I c-cum" You wined. He smiled at you, proud that you remembered to ask before you so greedily orgasmed without his permission. He was the one who was so kindly fucking you after all, so he should get the say in weather you cum or not.

"You can cum after me." He challenged, wanting to see if you could really make it. From how hard and rapidly your cunt was pulsing around him, he didn't think you would last much longer. "F-fuuuuck fuckfuck." You whined as he fucked the moans from your throat. He shook his head in disapproval, "Such a naughty mouth, remind me to take care of that next time." He said in response to your cursing as one of his large hands abandoned its hold on your hip to push your lower back down into a meaner arch against him.

The promise of a next time almost made you cum around him at what was to come. You had no idea how you held yourself back, maybe it was your inner consciousness afraid of what he would do to you if you disobeyed him, but you managed to hold out long enough for the king to cum. "Fuck, take it all, if you let a drop go to w-waste, I’ll kill you where you stand." He promised, clenching his jaw together as the rope started to untangle in his stomach.

His head tipped back, his jaw going slack as the first suprts of his cum started flooding your cunt and asshole. The second you felt his seed fill you up, you came around him, your holes milking him through his orgasm as you came harder than you ever have. If it wasnt for his four arms that held your body up, you woulve gone slack against the floor, "Fuuuuck! Fucking" thrust "Take my cum" thrust "Yesyesyes" The curse groaned, biting his lip at the intensity of his own orgasm.

His cum filled you up to the brim, the feeling of his warm seed filling both your holes at once felt strange and uncomfortable, but also weirdly right, you felt like this was your purpose—like his words were true, maybe your purpose really was to be here and be at his beck and call whenever he needed to release his stress, or simply wanted to get off.

He didn't wait for your own orgasm to finish before he released your body from his hold, letting your weak body fall to the ground of his domain by his feet, his cocks slipped out of you with a lewd squelching sound as you twitched below him in your aftershocks. The mouth on his stomach smiled at you, matching his own expression before it opened to lick your blood and juices off of his orgasm, and swallowing it greedily.

Your eyes fluttered as you started to come down from your orgasm. The massive figure in front of you ran a hand through his sweaty hair before his heavy leg kicked you in the stomach, not too hard, but hard enough to make you cough and direct your attention up at him. Before you knew it his face was in front of you and his large hand was in your hair as he raised you up from the ground with that grip alone, making you wince and whine in pain.

He stood to his full height once more, dragging your head and pressing it flush against his dirtied cocks, smearing your cum and blood on the side of your face as he gave you a disgusted look, "Clean your mess, useless human." He spat, digging his nails against your scalp. You gripped your hands into his massive thighs, and looked up at him from underneath your lashes, practically looking at him with hearts in your eyes as you rubbed your head against his thigh before kitten-licking one of his dick's tips.

He huffed out a laugh of disbelief at how obedient you were. How did he manage to find such a perfect fuck toy? Let alone a human toy at that. He could work with this.

[gallusrostromegalus]

You don't think matcha is tea????

Matcha isn't a Tea in my humble Opinion.

Matcha is an experience.

The year is 2009, the place is the University of Hawai'i at Manoa in Honolulu, and I am recovering from a still-undiagnosed disease that left me with a 100+ degree for over three weeks, extreme weight loss and permanent Brain Damage.  I have signed up for an introductory Art History class because I need an additional Humanities credit.

It's called "The History and Philosophy of the Japanese Tea Ceremony", and for a class I can only sort of remember, it stands out.

So I'm in professor Roberts' Japanese Tea Ceremony  class, looking and feeling like death warmed over, but I'm genuinely interested in the subject matter and show up to every class because I have nothing better to do, and ask questions and turn in my homework, even if neither are particularly coherent at times, and rapidly become his favorite student.  The thing I learned in public school was how to show up to events even if I don't want to, analyze tests and other written materials for patterns and charm educators by holding up my end of a conversation, skills that have served me in the modern world far more than learning actual course content would have.

The Tea Ceremony, historically, takes a good month to prepare and the entire evening to carry out- the guest list is curated to create social bonds and intellectual stimulation alike, a poem is composed for the season, and a seasonal flower arrangement created to decorate the space. When the guests arrive, they must all crawl through a small door to enter the tea garden, regardless of profession or rank.  Hands are ritually washed in spring water, and there is a slow processional walk through the garden, to admire the artistry of the landscaping, and the composition of seasonal elements to create this particular night of beauty.  The entire ceremony is about appreciating both the joy of existing right now, in this time and place, and the unification of the self and the universe and the endless cycles of nature. 

The guests arrive at the tea house and meet the Tea Master, who will be making the Matcha that evening. The guests are seated in particular order, the Most Revered Guest- sometimes a high-ranking official, sometimes a visiting scholar or artist- is seated closest to the Tea Master.  The Poem is read aloud.  The Flowers are admired.  The tools for making the Matcha are taken out, examined as objects of art, and their history told.  The matcha powder itself is taken out- the case examined, the cultivation of the tea discussed, and only then does the Tea Master make the Tea. 

Matcha is not brewed- it's a fine powder made of crushed green tea leaves, and the powder is whisked together with not-quite-boiling water in a bowl to create a much more substantial and flavorful drink.  This drink is presented to the Most Revered Guest first, who is expected to take a sip and, in a moment of Zen spiritual clarity, comment on its flavor and how all the elements of the tea, art, garden and season all complement each other, and perhaps offer some sort of philosophical statement.

At least,

That's how it's supposed to go.

About a month before the spring semester is over, Professor Roberts announces that he has a surprise for his class- a good friend of his, a Professional Tea Master, will be visiting Hawai'i, and has agreed to perform a Tea Ceremony for our class!  I am very excited. The other 10 people in class are varying levels of amiably confused to distressed by having to go to An Event (TM) for a grade, but agree. One of my classmates, an astrology hoe named Jessica, pointed out that with the 11 students, Professor Roberts, and the Tea Master, there will be 13 people present, which is basically inviting disaster.

"Jessica." Sighed Professor Roberts. "It's a Tea Ceremony. What disaster could happen?"

Despite Jessica's misgivings, Preparations for the ceremony went on.  We learned about Ikebana while deciding on the Ceremonial Bouquet and tried our hands at it with what Professor Robert could get at the grocery store for $12. We learned about calligraphy and different types of poetic compositions while making the Seasonal Poem, and stain the hell out of the classroom carpet learning the brush strokes.  We learn about different types of Matcha Bowl sculpting and glazing and we are not allowed to touch the demonstration bowls or the kiln because Professor Roberts was beginning to suspect that some of his students (me)  were suffering from coordination issues. I apply myself with zeal, if not necessarily talent.  I was, at the time, an Art Major, but my professors in the art department had been grading me on a secret "this bitch almost died last semester and is re-learning how to hold a pencil" curve, and boy howdy did I stumble and break leaves and splatter ink like it.

Despite my ongoing unmonitored recovery, Professor Roberts viewed my enthusiastic class participation with rose-colored glasses, and about a week before the ceremony we had a class where he brought out the used Kimonos and Obi and other forms of japanese dress he'd borrowed from the theater department so that we would be traditionally dressed(ish) and experience the ceremony authentically(ish).  While people were trying on clothes to see what would fit, he took me aside and told me he wanted me to be in the position of Most Revered Guest, the person who makes the zen statement upon which the entire event hinges.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" I asked.

"You're the only person who doesn't fall asleep in class and you talked about how the flowers stagger their blooms to not compete for the bees- you're perfectly engaged and conscious of the seasons!" He said, blindly. "You will need different shoes though."  He indicated my flip-flops.  "I won't make you learn how to walk in Geta, but nothing with Heels. Ballet flats are fine."

"...These are the only shoes I own." I said.

Professor Roberts stared at me.

"-I used to have a pair of sneakers but I think a homeless guy stole them while I was at the beach last month."

"What?" Roberts blinked.

"He probably needed them more than I do. I'll see if I can borrow some flats."

"...I don't think I've ever met a woman with less than 10 pairs of shoes."  Said Roberts.

"I'm not a woman, I'm and undergrad." I said, still three years away from learning the term 'Nonbinary'.  "Those are Jordan's only pair of shorts, you know." I pointed at my classmate, who had been wearing the one (1) pair of basketball shorts for the entire semester.

"I WASH THEM." Jordan shouted defensively, wearing the longest Men's Kinmo the theater department had, which barely came down to the top of his calves.

"Oh God." Said Roberts, a horrifying new world opening up to him like a tub of Expired sour cream.

*

It was the day of the Ceremony.

The Seasonal Theme we'd worked on was "The Turn Of Summer", and the weather was complying maliciously. 

Normally, Tea Ceremonies are scheduled for the more temperate evening, but due to the school needing to host something in the adjoining cultural center later, we could only use the Tea Garden in the middle of the afternoon, and the summer sun was a sweltering 98 degrees and a similar level of Humidity.  The Camelias were melting.

Where Jordan had difficulty finding a Kimono that suited his ent-like proportions, I'd had the opposite problem and the only Kimono short enough to not trip my Hobbit-sized self was a Child’s size.  My roommate had helped me get into the Kimono and Obi before the ceremony, and leant me a pair of her Ballet Flats, but we discovered an issue- this Kimono was designed for a flat-chested prepubescent youth, and even though I barely scraped 5'0", I had the robust proportions of an Irish Peasant, and the only way to avoid displaying a frankly offensive amount of cleavage was to use the widest Obi we could find and sort of tuck my boobs into it. 

"Hm" I said. "Kind of hard to breathe."

"Yeah, but you're sitting for most of it, right?  It can't last more than an hour, so just like, shuffle and don't talk much?"  She suggested.

To her credit, the first forty-five minutes of the ceremony only involved shuffling through the gardens and not talking while the Tea Master lectured us on some of the finer points of the garden's design. 

But then we got to the Tea House- a small structure only barely able to accommodate the 13 of us, which was in the shade but hotter than the outside because of the roaring fire in the middle of the room, where the water for the Matcha was boiling.  The room was surrounded by a narrow sort of porch, part of which hung over the Koi pond, where several massively overfed carp blurbled expectantly for treats at the arrival of humans. I sat down, legs folded under me like Professor Roberts had insisted, and realized that this pushed the Obi UP, and now my rib cage was being compressed in all directions.

I tried to pay attention to the rest of the ceremony, but two and a half hours is an awfully long time to listen about lecturers you've already heard when your body is undergoing a sort of internal horserace to see if the heatstroke, sciatica pain and numbness, allergies or suffocation-by-compression will cause you to pass out first.  My legs had gone numb below the knee by the time we were done with the flower arrangement.  My entire legs were numb before we were done with the Poem.  By the time the Tea Utensils came out, I was seeing spots of colored light in my vision and could only breathe if I focused on it very, very hard.

But! The ceremony was genuinely interesting! and Professor Roberts was counting on me!  So I did my best not to sway or throw up from watching the Tea Master whisk the Matcha, and dutifully took the bowl with a pair of hands that felt like slabs of ham that I was attempting to puppet from another dimension, and took a sip.

They say that Smell and Taste are far more closely connected to the emotional centers of the brain than any other sense, and I believe it because the instant I inhaled both the grassy, powdery smell, and tasted the moderately viscous bubbly liquid, I experienced an intense flashbulb memory back to a previous late May-

The Year was '98, the place was my elementary school art room, and we'd been using the seasonal hot weather to paint on a massive scale as the art dried quickly- each third-grader had been given a roll of butcher paper, a cheap brush, squirts of non-toxic paint and a water cup, and allowed to go hog-wild on our murals, and the rush of creative energy and the imminent sense of freedom as the semester drew to a close truly embodied the summer of youth, carefree but with an almost psychotic fervor, where lack of care was both freeing and dangerous as you lost track of your surroundings in the act of creation-

Which isn't a bad seasonal-philosophical connection statement to make, but the actual words that came out of my mouth were:



"Wow. This tastes exactly like paint."



The first sound I heard after the moment of silence was the cartoonishly loud gasp of horror from Professor Roberts, which was almost immediately drowned out by the thunderclap of laughter from the Tea Master, slapping his thighs and wiping tears from his face, unable to stop. I desperately tried to explain the connection between the fact I might be dying of heat stroke right now, and how I ended up drinking my paint water back in Mrs. Krantz's art class because back then I was also dying of heat stroke, but mostly ended up wheezing half-formed sentences as the rest of the class took sips and offered opinions varying between "Wow, that's thick. Like a Hot smoothie." and "Oh yeah, it tastes like summer. Like how a freshly-mowed lawn smells like summer." Professor Roberts slowly melted into a pile of shame, and the Tea Master slapped him on the back, still howling with laughter.

"They're honest! Nobody else will be honest!  This is magnificent!"  he wheezed.

Eventually, everyone had their taste, and the ceremony was concluded.  The second the Tea Master had packed up his tools and stepped outside for a breath of fresh air, Professor Roberts was in my face.

"HOW COULD YOU SAY THAT?" he hissed, grabbing my arm and pulling me up. "GO APOLOGIZE RIGHT NOW!"  he shoved me out onto the porch where the Tea Master was looking at the Koi, who had started bubble-begging aggressively again.

Except that my legs felt like blocks of wood that my pelvis was renting from another planet where legs hadn’t been invented yet, my vision was entirely static between the dehydration and lack of oxygen, and my vestibuar system had fucked off an hour ago, leaving me to stay upright by purely by the virtue of the over-tightened Obi.  So instead of bowing and apologizing profusely like my professor expected, what I actually did was stumble out of the room, say something like "Hsdfkf" and topple head-first into the koi pond.

Fortunately, the impact of the bottom of the pond with the top of my skull activated a sort of last-resort emergency self preservation system and I inhaled with enough force to break the Obi-Jime and probably a couple ribs from the pain that hit both my sides like lightning.  Unfortunately, the thing I was inhaling was fish-shit riddled Pond Water, so my emergency self-preservation system ordered an even harder Exhale. 

The Tea Master, to his immense credit, had immediately jumped in after me, and pulled me upright just in time for me to forcibly exhale half a gallon of rancid pond water directly into his face, then start screaming.  Screaming is an extremely appropriate reaction to have when injured, because it alerts everyone that you require medical attention, but is very unpleasant to experience from four inches away, which is probably why he then immediately dropped me.

Fortunately the pond wasn't very deep and this time I sat there, scream-gasping as my lungs reinflated, Koi fish burbling and sucking at me with tremendous excitement, until the EMT from the campus clinic arrived, a vanguard before the actual ambulance.

"Okay uh. You're bleeding." he said, cautiously wading into the pond.

I opened my eyes to find that I had apparently acquired a large and profusely bleeding head wound, which had activated some long-suppressed Shark Instincts in the Koi, which were eagerly gumming at the streams of blood and trying to suck on my forehead. "Good thing they don’t have teeth." I said in the distant bliss that only zen masters and people with serious head injuries get to experience.

"Do you want a towel?" he asked, helping me up.

"No, this is rather refreshing, actually." I said, still absolutely smashed on endorphins, Koi still enthusiastically swarming at my kneecaps.

"I mean like for your-"  the EMT Gestured Vaguely at my torso.

I looked down and realized that not only had I broken the Obi-jime, the entire Obi had come undone and was floating several feet away, and I was only wearing the Kimono, fallen completely off my shoulders and was only being prevented from performing a full Lady Godiva by the valiant efforts of the safety pin my roommate had put in to keep it folded correctly while we figured out the Obi.

"Professor Roberts?" I stood up all the way, soaking wet, bleeding from my forehead with such force as to create actual streams of blood down my face, neck and chest, tits out, and addressed the poor man standing, white-faced on the deck above the pond.  "I don't think I'm going to be in class on Monday-" I paused to fish a small Koi that had gotten trapped in the remains of the now-ruined Kimono, and tossed it back into the pond. "-Can I schedule a make-up exam for the Final?"

"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, GET IN THE AMBULANCE!" He screamed.

I was x-rayed for a skull fracture, but my lifelong membership to the Lactose Tolerance Club had protected me, and I happily texted my roommate to come pick me up as "They x-rayed my head and found nothing" while the doctor stitched part of my scalp back together.

The following morning, I discovered that Professor Roberts had graded my exam before I took it.  100%. Truly, the best way to get a good grade on your finals is to get a serious head injury.



So, Matcha is not a Tea, in my humble opinion.

Matcha is an Experience.

And sometimes that experience is drinking something almost exactly like paint, ruining an important cultural ceremony, traumatizing your professor,  and introducing a bunch of fish to the taste of human flesh.



***

If this made you laugh, there are more funny stories on My Patreon, or you can help support me by tipping my Ko-Fi. Thank You.

[nctstar]

Can I get a smut of Johnny suh using his size and strength kink on a petite female Y/N? Thank you~

heyy! i'm so sorry this is absurdly late :(( but hope you still like it! <3

small

Wasting no time to rid himself of his clothes, he spoke. “This room is fine, right?” Muscles bulging as he fiddled with his shirt, the ridges of his chest drawing in the singlet, you bit your finger almost comically. “Hello? Earth to _?” The brown of his eyes were soft, a sharp contrast to his stature. He smirked, his hair bouncing as he threw his head back slightly. “Like what you see?”

pairing: johnny suh x fem!reader

other members: none

word count: 2.4k

genre: romance, smut

warnings: sexual content so minors please dni!! as per the request the reader is smaller than Johnny but I refrained from describing body parts or her specific size or anything like that, she is just short. if you're sensitive to this kind of talk though maybe don't read <3 mild profanity, lots of kissing, johnny carries reader, manhandling, descriptions of johnny's torso and body throughout, dirty talk about the size of his ding dong schlong, mild degradation (use of slut), ripping clothes bc those muscles do more than lift weights <3, clitoral stimulation/fingering, reader is pretty slutty and dumb during sex (aren't we all), missionary sex, praising (sweet girl, good girl), condom use, talking after sex (post nut clarity fr)

disclaimer: this is a fanfiction purely from my (filthy) imagination. I don't know the nct members and don't claim that they act like this in real life. I also do not condone any of the activity by any of the characters in this fic. 

a/n: i have been in such a writer's slump particularly with smut! like i think i need some time off to write some good fics and some good smut, so i'm sorry anon and to all my lovely readers if this is shit :(

“Now why would he ever say that?” You peeked at your friend pacing around your small room through your hair. Scissors in one hand, your (new) bangs in the other, you winced. “Wait, girl, I made a mistake I think.”

She sighed as you let the strands flutter across your forehead, uneasiness settling in your stomach. “Didn’t you follow what he said?” Brad Mondo’s curtain bangs tutorial continued in the background as you turned your head expectantly from side to side. Your friend held your head in place with open palms, looking at you through the mirror. “It’s actually kinda cute. Makes you look…well…”

“Don’t say small.” She snorted, bringing a hand to her face to unsuccessfully cover her mouth. “I don’t care, that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in a long time.”

You pushed yourself off the stool, rolling your eyes as you started undressing. “He didn’t mean it like that.” Your belt clinked as your jeans fell to the carpet, and you started bringing your shirt over your heard. “I’m sure it was his way of complimenting me.” Despite all your efforts, you couldn’t stop the annoyance that cemented your words into place. “I guess.”

“Girl, you need to tell him that it bothers you.”

“It doesn’t bother me.”

“Yeah, and it’s not weird to call some girl you’ve been on two dates with small.”

The doorbell cut through the air, making you both jump. “Shit. It’s like he heard or something.”

“Shit. Wait, just let him in and get him to wait downstairs. Okay?” Sudden panic was settling into your body, making your hands shake. Your friend got the message and hurried downstairs, zipping her skirt up in record time while hobbling downstairs. “Hope I don’t smell like chicken. I hate having shifts on Fridays.”

Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you pulled the skirt over the curves of your thighs and butt, watching the way it held onto your body. Stuffing the ends of the top into the skirt, you walked over to pick out a pair of shoes.

“I’m heading out! Johnny’s waiting down here!” Your friend’s voice made your body do the kind of useless flurry that it does whenever you know you’re running out of time, and you drag out the highest heels you own. Small, my ass.

“Hey!” As usual, he softened his frame when he saw you, placing his hands in his pockets and smiling so big so you would forget to feel intimidated by his 6-foot stature, or rock-hard physique. His eyes were like small moons, bursting on his face whenever he smiled. “Hey, nice bangs.” You instinctively went to fiddle with them, silently cursing yourself for messing them up. “Thanks.” Your smile was a little forced, but you were giddy to see him, your body rocking back and forth without your permission, ankles rubbing against each other.

∞

“The pasta was so good,” you couldn’t stop raving, your hips knocking into Johnny as he walked you home, arms linked. “Like seriously, Johnny. So good.”

He laughed, the sound leaving him effortlessly. “I’m so glad you liked it. I remember the pasta here being amazing, but I was worried you would think I’m cheap or not taking you seriously. The place being run down and all.” You shook your head, your bangs shuffling from side to side as you did. “No, of course not. I would rather eat something good on the street than a tiny portion of something small and pretentious at an upscale place.”

He hummed, moonlight hitting his body, softening some angles and sharpening others, hair glowing golden brown as he walked. Your heels clacked against the linoleum of your front porch as you wondered whether your friend was home, but before you could reach for the front door, your knees buckled. You let out a small gasp as you felt Johnny’s arms around your body, pinching into your skin almost uncomfortably. “Oh shit! I’m okay, babe.” You both froze at the sudden nickname, his arms loosening around you as you straightened up. You shakily continued. “U-uhm, sorry, I mean-“

“I think your shoes broke.”                                                                   

Yeah, no shit, you wanted to bite back. But you held your tongue, frustration seeping through your pores as you held onto the rail, Johnny hovering protectively over you as you took the right heel off, now newly broken in two pieces. “Oh my god. These were so expensive! Ugh!”

“It’s okay. Maybe I can buy you another pair. Babe.” He said the last word almost sarcastically, and you glared at him. “Johnny.”

“I’m serious. I’m sorry those broke so easily. I’ll bring a new pair next time?”

“Johnny, wait.”

“You like me, right?” His face crumpled just a tiny bit. Not exaggerated like in the movies or anything, so subtle you would never notice from afar, or if you weren’t close. You warmed at the thought of knowing him so closely, so well, enough to know that something was not right in the lines of his eyebrows.

You gulped, not knowing how to respond.

“I feel like you kinda hate me.” He crinkled his nose when he said hate, almost sarcastically, but his tone jabbed you straight in the chest. You shook your head. No, of course not, you wanted to say. I like you. I like you so much. But I am small to you. I wonder if you think of me as small. Do YOU like me?

“I just, I don’t like being small.” He frowned, and so did you, the words sounding stupid as soon as they filled the small space between your bodies. “I mean, you called me small the other day. And I know you probably, well, definitely, meant it as a cute thing. Like physically. Like a term of endearment, you know? But, I don’t wanna be seen as small, like more than physically. You know what I mean?” You cringed internally at your words, watching him stare blankly back at you.

“Right.”

“I’m so sorry. I sound like such a jerk. I don’t mean to be hung up over one little word you said.” You bit your lip, tasting the remnants of your lipstick on your tongue. “It’s just what made me feel a little weird. But, I do like you, Johnny.” Your heart raced as you looked up at him. Your body moved without permission for the umpteenth time, and your arms melted around his hips, fingers splaying across the small of his back. Your mind screamed at you, but your body ignored it, burning up from within.

Tentatively, he brought one hand to your chin, skin warm but rough on yours. “I don’t think low of you. I never have. I just think you’re so fucking gorgeous. So perfect the way you are.” The butterflies in your stomach were now dancing, free, leaping over hills and grassy plains. “Sorry for the poor choice of words.”

You smiled, some of the tension leaving you as you let your bodies merge seamlessly, like lanes on an open road, like the sun as it meets the horizon. You kicked off your other shoe, standing on your tiptoes to meet his lips with yours. He tentatively glazed his hands over your sides, making you shiver and moan into his mouth. You brought your fingers to the nape of his neck, savouring the taste. “Mmm, Johnn-“

You yelped when he gripped your thigh, guiding it to press against his hips. “Jump up for me, baby.” You giggled, nodding as you straddled him, his torso gently rebounding back with your weight. As you met his lips once more, dragging your forearms across the top of his shoulders, you heard your front door open and close, the door to the downstairs bedroom fling wide open. As your back hit the bed, your hair splayed out onto the fresh sheets, knees bent, lipstick smeared.

Wasting no time to rid himself of his clothes, he spoke. “This room is fine, right?” Muscles bulging as he fiddled with his shirt, the ridges of his chest drawing in the singlet, you bit your finger almost comically. “Hello? Earth to _?” The brown of his eyes were soft, a sharp contrast to his stature. He smirked, his hair bouncing as he threw his head back slightly. “Like what you see?”

“Uh huh.” All the shame left your body as you drew circles on his body and face with your eyes, letting his thick frame tower over you. “Is this okay?” He breathed into your collarbone, and when you nodded fervently, you felt his lips suck and nip at your neck. Gasping, you gripped onto his neck, letting your ankles hook around the back of his jean-clad legs. “Y-yes. Yes please. Don’t tease, I want y-you so much.”

“Yeah?” He played with the buttons of your top, but you stopped him. “I can’t wait…just rip it off, please. I need you. Right now. Please, just use me. I know you can.” He drew an eyebrow upwards, and you almost felt a slight twinge of embarrassment until you heard the top rip, cold air exposing your lace bra, tits bulging as you arched your chest off the bed. “What a slut. Is this what you wanted all along?” He laughed as you wriggled under him, mouth latching onto the tops of your boobs. He released you only to throw your arms up, pinning your wrists down to the bed to watch your reaction. When you bit your lip in response, bringing your core closer to his, he laughed darkly. “Freak.”

“Yes, just for you, fuck, please.”

“Bet you’re just soaked under this tight little skirt. Want me to rip this off too?” You nodded before he could even finish his sentence, and the sound of your fabric ripping filled the air. “Mmm, just as I suspected.” As he dragged your panties down your thighs, you felt your wetness pool onto the sheets under you. “Please, please, hold me down and fuck me.” You whispered into his ear, letting your plump lips graze against his skin as you massaged the nape of his neck with your fingers. You whimpered when his jean-clad bulge bumped against your clit, the burn in your core growing with every passing second.

He kissed you deeply, pulling away at an agonising pace. “Tell me why, baby.” You whined, trying to gather some friction between your legs with no avail. His arms pinned yours to either side of your head, his legs like heavy weights against yours. “Please, I just, I want your cock i-inside me, w-want it to split me open…” He shook his head. “What makes you think I would do that to you? I’m too big for you, honey.”

You whined. “N-no, please. I don’t care, just, push it in me…” He laughed, kissing you. “Please, I want to feel so full…” He shushed you, sitting up to unbuckle his jeans. “Mmm, yes, yes please…” You were just babbling nonsense, the anticipation too intense to bear. His cock sprung out of his boxers, hitting his stomach, precum spilling out the edges of the tip. You heard him rip open a condom packet, dragging it on his length at lightning speed. He ran his cockhead through the folds of your pussy, making you whimper. “So wet.” He breathed, and you gasped as his tip entered you at an agonisingly slow place. “J-Johnny.” Your brain fought your body, wanting him to continue but feeling apprehensive at the impending stretch. “You’re so big. Fuck.” You snuck a hand down towards your clit, but Johnny grabbed your wrist, leaning over to kiss your chin. “Let me.” As he pressed one finger onto your core, you gasped, back arching, eyes squeezing shut. “O-oh, oh my…”

“You like that?” He started speeding up, your gasps and moans like drugs to his system. When he pulled away, he started pushing his length in, and you let out a deep breath, as if you had been holding it in the entire time. “Fuck.” You drawled, feeling him in every corner of your insides. “Fuck, Johnny. You’re, you’re so big, and s-strong.”

Johnny laughed, and you wondered for a second whether you had ruined the mood. “My cock making you lose your filter, babe?” You blushed, but the constant bump and stretch on your clit had your vision go foggy, your head spinning deliriously. You used your forearms to push away, breathing deeply as if his cock had suffocated you from the inside out. Johnny wrapped his arms around your hips, bringing you flush against his pelvis in one swift movement. “Uh uh, where do you think you’re going?” His snarkiness and the fulness in your lower stomach made your core squeeze excessively. “Ah, shit! Fuck, I think I’m gon-“ You felt it before you could finish your sentence, your climax stealing the words out of your mouth, making your heart thump incessantly against your ribcage.

Johnny cooed at your, his forearms now caging you by your head, peppering light kisses on your face. “You alright, sweet girl?” You nodded, gasping. “Please, please move.” He chuckled, groaning as he pulled back to thrust into you, making you throw your head back and scream. “Fuck, oh my god.” Your body shook with the force of his steady thrusts, his legs pinning your body down to the bed. “Good girl, that’s it.” He groaned, getting sloppier as he reached his climax. “You’re so good for me. So eager for me to pin you down and fuck you. Because I’m so big and strong, right?” You reached for Johnny’s neck, the embarrassment at your previous comments leaving you as you felt your core tighten, coil ready to snap. “Fuck, you just gripped me so tight, fuck. Nasty girl.” You moaned as you came, feeling him release inside the condom with a throaty moan.

Both of you heaving, gasping for air, you pulled Johnny close to your body, kissing his collarbone, his neck, his face. “I do like you, a lot.” Your breath tickled his skin as you spoke, and he stroked your hair gently with one hand, using the other to pull away from you to look into your eyes. “I’m sorry for calling you small. I admit, it’s a little weird.”

“Apology accepted. I think we’ve both called each other things we’re never gonna say again.”

“No, hon, you should always call me big and strong Johnny-“

“Johnny, please. Never mention that again. It was a moment of weakness!” You whined, shielding your face as he laughed, slipping off you to lie next to you on the bed. “Kinda sexy though.” You slapped his arm playfully, laughing as slipped down his forearm to take his hand in yours.

“I’ll think of something better for next time, promise.”

[am-i-interrupting]

headcanons on how it is to be with alastor? I think thats pretty general but it can be sfw or nsfw, or both I don't mind and ofcourse if that's okay with you. Get to this when you have time, thank you!!

SFW

Alastor is a very secretive person and that does not change even when you’re close to him.

He may be willing to let his guard down a bit and show his emotions but you have to get used to not getting explanations for them.

The most PDA he will give is a hand around the waist when he’s feeling protective, hand holding when he feels generous or is upset (prepare for bone breaking hand holding, sometimes literally), and a kiss to your temple or cheek as a greeting or farewell (but only occasionally).

In privacy, it doesn’t really change much.

He will sort of do the thing where you touch someone as you’re walking by. Like a quick hand on the back when he’s passing you or when he’s reaching around you.

If he’s reaching around you, he might even place a kiss on your lips.

He likes to hold you when you sleep.

He says it’s because he likes your silent company but in reality, he doesn’t like your vulnerability when you’re unconscious.

He will allow you to say sit in his lap or straddle him as he reads.

After a particularly good day he may indulge in a make out session.

Prepare to probably get bloodstains on your skin and clothes though because a good day for him usually involves a bit of murder.

NSFW

He’s not one for sex often.

However, he will indulge you from time to time.

It’s not enthusiastic consent most of the time (which is totally fine— your local ace writer) but more of a “I care about you and this is something that makes you feel good” type.

No touching him unless he’s feeling extra generous.

He keeps his clothes on unless he can somehow specifically tease you by taking them off.

He is a tease. Like the fucking worst tease.

Prepare to be bound if you won’t listen to the no touch rule or if you don’t follow his instruction on how and when to touch yourself.

He does a lot of barely there, ghostly teasing type touching of your erogenous zones.

He does tease you by leaning in close enough that you can feel his breath.

If you’ll let him, edging, temperature play, sensory deprivation, pain play, and knife play are all things I can see him into.

The shadows are coming out.

Will use thoughts to provide more touch and simultaneously over and under stimulate you.

He rarely ever gets hard or turned on in a way he wants to act upon.

When he does though, either he jerks himself off or he lets you touch him but he will be guiding your every touch.

He never penetrates you himself but he will use his fingers, shadows, and occasionally a toy.

He is open to toys so long as it provides a way to torture you. Think cockcage, nipple claps, a vibrator he randomly turns on throughout the day.

Sex with him rarely takes under an hour and a half. This is an event. He plans to stretch it out.

[chimcess]

Afterglow || jhs

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader Other tags: Vampire!Hoseok, Vampire!Reader Genre: Supernatural!AU, Vampire!AU, Twilight Universe, established relationship, fluff, smut, pwp Word Count: 4.5k+ Synopsis: "A loud crack of lighting boomed in the distance followed by a low rumbling. The storm was here. My love was not. I kept watching and waiting." Warnings: Character death (brief), mental illness (not reader and very brief), penetrative sex, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, lots of licking, kisses, slow and deep, Hoseok is a vocal boy, they are so in love, edging, over stimulation, hair pulling, man handling, growling, body worship, breast worship, unprotected sex (stay safe), vampire/animal sounds, implied outdoor sex, they are honestly so freaking cute, let me know if I missed anything A/N: So, I recently rewatched the entire Twilight Saga and couldn't stop myself. I promise they have nothing to do with the Cullens. I'm simply borrowing S.Meyer's universe for a second. Thanks for reading.

Staring out of the second story window, I frowned. There was a thunderstorm on its way and the wind was harsh. Still, I stayed put. I would not move until I knew he was coming back.

The first few droplets that landed against my cheeks were freezing and as the rain started coming down, I got soaked. There had been a window here once but after a rather unfortunate night, one where mama had shouted and threw a candlestick holder at my head, the glass was all but gone. Only one singular piece along the very bottom of the trim remained.

She was dead now, well, as dead as I believed her to be. Daddy, too. Only I remained. The house had been suffocating at first, my body unable to handle the loneliness. My memories of the attack were weak and dimly lit, but I could never forget the moment the burn began. I will never forget what led up to it.

At the ripe age of nineteen, my father was planning to marry me off to a local boy called Percival Hobbs. Mr.Hobbs was a fine gentleman, his sensibilities and wit uncharacteristically gentle and kind for a man of the era. We were both middle classes, his family only slightly richer than my own, and well matched. I was happy to be marrying him, especially when he told me his plans of expanding his father’s business out of Virginia. I hated this place back then; I could recall that fairly well despite the thick film which covered my old life.

My mother was an unusual woman of which I had gotten my own set of quirks. When I was young, I could remember her singing as she cooked, weaving flowers through her greasy hair as she doted on my father as if he were a king. We never went without, and her joy was contagious. My mother, for all intents and purposes, was a happy person. Perhaps a bit odd, she was more outspoken and considered rather rude to the other women in Richmond, but no one could truly say anything bad about her.

It was only after a particularly nasty accident that her behavior changed. We were on our way to visit her sister in Norfolk when our horses were startled by something out in the woods. Our carriage took a fall and my mother hit her head on a rock. We were all lucky to have survived the ordeal, something my father praised God for, but mama was never the same. She never smiled, hardly spoke, and could never find the melodies of the songs she had loved so dearly. It was as though a switch had been flipped and the light within her was turned off.

Daddy was nervous, as was I, but childish worries and adult sorrow were different. I believed she was sad, but my father knew she would never return back to normal. His work became more demanding after that. As a lawyer, my father was held in high regard at the time and worked long days and nights in order to provide for the three of us. They never bore another child. I believe it was because my mother could no longer stand to be touched and my father could never hurt her, even if it broke his heart.

Years passed that way until a sudden change began to occur. No longer was she silent, but the songs she sang were very different. Her eyes were more alive than they had been in a long, long time, and her voice had come back. The joy of this was short lived, however, as her delusions started soon after. Men who were not really men, monsters who could love, and things that would reflect like diamonds in the sunlight. All of it rubbish, all of it insane, but all of it real in her fragmented mind.

Daddy was planning on getting her committed after she said there were people living in the walls of our home. He might have killed her for declaring her love for a man who shined in the sun if he had not believed her to be completely psychotic. All the while I watched as the woman I held dearly began to hate and resent the both of us. That was when the shouting started, the violence, and then father had no choice but to call the doctor.

He had no way of knowing the chain of events that could cause, nor the dire consequences it would have on me. The doctor came to the house a little after midnight to take my mother away. She screamed and thrashed violently as she went, calling out to her monster to come and save her.

His name had been Louis and I only remember it because of what happened next. She had only said his name once, a broken and terrified cry for help, when the figure appeared. He was a beautiful man; his skin so pale it shined in the carriage’s lantern light. I do not remember if his hair had been brown or black, it was too dark to make out, but I did know his eyes were red. Bloody, dripping with hatred, and trained on the hands of the doctor holding my mother.

The doctor was dead in the next breath he took, my mother curling into the beast’s chest in complete hysterics. Louis then looked at my father, his intentions clear, before finding me. I was crying, my nightgown thin and exposing, and my own horror was reflected back at me. Whatever he saw that day made all the difference. Killing my father was easy for him to do. If he was my mother’s lover, then he would have hated the man who bore her children. I don't remember screaming but I could recall my mother telling me not to be afraid. Louis would make it quick. My death, she said, would be painless.

It was not. When Louis’s teeth sank into my neck, I only felt the slightly pinprick of pressure before I grew tired and weak. I knew I would die, and I did not fight it. I was either too weak or shell-shocked to put much behind it. Then, he was off of me, and I was fighting to keep my eyes open.

“You will be magnificent,” He whispered, kissing my cheek. His voice was soft, presumably to keep my mother from hearing us. I would never know why. “I will take care of her. You take care of yourself, little one.”

Then they were gone, Louis and my mother both. I had barely managed to crawl back inside, my hand clutching the wound on my neck, when the burning started. It lasted for three days and when it was over, I woke up afraid and starved. My father and the doctor were still outside, but I did not care who they were. I drained what was left of them before realizing what I had done. Ashamed and mortified, I put them both in the carriage and set it on fire. No one could know what had happened, of that I was certain.

The next few years of my life were spent in the forests of Virginia staying out of sight and hunting. I lived off of animals mostly, their deaths did not weigh down on my conscience as much as a human's did. My family home was vacant, untouched, and our names were forgotten to time. In 1875, I finally emerged from my isolation in the forests and moved back in. By 1900, I was able to venture into town on a rare occasion when the sun was well hidden beneath a thick layer of clouds. The house had gone through very few changes and the room I stood in now had been my father’s study. I hated the thought of touching anything in it, but I knew I would need to fix this issue. I could feel how weak the wood around it was becoming.

A loud crack of lighting boomed in the distance followed by a low rumbling. The storm was here. My love was not. I kept watching and waiting.

I met Hoseok through coincidence. My friend Seokjin, a Korean immigrant who traveled across the world as a nomad, had stumbled across the boy when he was dying from tuberculosis on the streets of New York. Jin, feeling sorry for the young man, changed him as he had done so five other times. All of his children were nomads, two of them finding their mates, and I got along with them rather well. Hoseok was no exception.

Jin had come to me after Hoseok had taken a swipe at his sire’s own newly transformed mate, Evelyn. The boy needed someone to help him with his temper and dealing with two newborns was rather difficult. I remembered my own early years with distaste. We acted more like animals than people.

Hoseok arrived on my doorstep in 1953, angry, hungry, and completely irrational. He was just over a year old and while the worst of it was over, he had a gift that took its toll on him. Not all of our kind had an extra sense. Jin, for example, was completely normal. His beauty was unparalleled, but even in his human life he was the most handsome man one could have met. Hoseok, however, was not as lucky.

The boy was incredibly powerful, his ability to hypnotize anyone with the sound of his voice was something the Volturi, the leaders and rulers of our kind, would love to get their hands on. For Hoseok, it made his thirst grow quicker and he lacked control of it. He could easily manipulate those around him without meaning to, which was why his brothers did not want to deal with the task. I was Jin’s last resort and the only reason he had come to me was my own gift.

I lived in my world in a sort of bubble. Gifts, no matter the kind, were ineffective against it. The bubble was invisible, elastic, and malleable, but impenetrable. I could choose to remove it from myself and take the brunt of whatever ability was being thrown at me, but I had only done it twice. Both times had been when Jungkook had come to see me and wanted to know if his gift, to make fake clones of himself, could throw me off. He won the first round, but I came out on top the second time. Being the sore loser he is, Jungkook never asked for a rematch.

Hoseok and I took some time to warm up to one another. The pull toward him was instantaneous but he was too young and wild for either one of us to explore what that could mean. The first five months was spent chasing him down before he could attack the unsuspecting townsfolk in Richmond. Then it was showing him the way I hunted. When his eyes changed from red to amber to gold, his mood stabilized. Our friendship was finally able to take root and before long our love bloomed.

After our first kiss under the stars in the trees that surrounded my home, we were connected so deeply that removing one would surely bring death upon the other. When I was a child, I had been disappointed to grow up in the East. We were in the more rural part of Richmond and all of the girls at school made fun of me for being a ‘country bumpkin.’ As a vampire, however, my little ranch was a paradise. Hoseok and I could make love for hours and no one would hear a thing.

Right now, during this thunderstorm, would be prime time for us to lose ourselves within one another. It was a shame he had decided to go hunting alone today. Hoseok liked having space far more than I did, but I understood his wants and needs and gave him what he asked for. I could only hope his delay was from him getting distracted and not an unfortunate slip up. He had them more than I did, and they ruined his mood for weeks.

Finally, I saw him. His black hair was slick and stuck to his forehead from the rain, the linen pajamas he had worn out transparent and heavy. Elated to finally have him home, I jumped out of the window and crashed into him. The sound was thunderous.

Hoseok laughed, “Hey there, Sunshine.”

On top of him, I sighed, holding him close to me. The rain was cold, but it would not bother me. I could not get sick. Capturing his lips, I finally felt at ease. I did not like it when he was gone. The house was too quiet.

“I love you,” I sighed, feeling my body hum to life with need. “I missed you. Touch me.”

This aspect of our love life had been difficult for me at first. I was from an era when a woman did not speak this way, but after gentle coaxing from my lover, I had gotten over the prudishness of the 1850s. We were, after all, more connected than any human couple could hope to be. Gripping my hips, Hoseok licked my bottom lip.

“Can we go inside?” He asked, nipping at my chin as my hands shredded his shirt. “The rain is distracting.”

I nodded and he scooped me up, carrying me back inside at our natural speed. We were fan, faster than any living thing on the planet, and able to see the world clearly as we passed it by. Hoseok ripped the front door of its hinges, making me laugh. He was always so impatient when it came to sex.

We ran up the steps, passing the study on the way to our bedroom. The door was still open, the rain pouring into it. I wondered briefly what my father would have thought of Hoseok. Then his lips were attached to my ear and all thoughts of my father were gone.

He was less aggressive with the door to our bedroom. A creak inaudible to the human ear sent a chill up my spine as I clung to his wet body. His skin felt hot under my hands despite how cold we both were. Hoseok was panting like a dog, more from his excitement than any real need for air.

He laid me down on our bed gently before tearing off my dress. The chemise pulled apart as easily as a piece of paper. Hoseok’s mouth found my chest as soon as it was exposed to him, mouth finding a nipple as a hand fiddled with the other. Whining, I buried my hands in his hair and held him close to me.

“I missed you so much,” I cried out.

Hoseok bit down on the little nub before letting it go with a loud smack. Fingers still twisting and brushing my right nipple, he smiled down at me. Topaz eyes were pitch black with desire and a low purr reverberated through his chest. I felt it in my groin.

“I missed you more,” He replied huskily.

I smiled shyly, reaching out for him. Hoseok leaned into my touch, purring increasing as I caressed his face. Pouting my lips, I begged him to come closer with my eyes. He smiled; his eyes soft.

“I wish you could see how beautiful you look right now.”

He sucked on my chest for what felt like hours, grinding his hips down to meet my own, and purring like a cat the entire time. He had always embraced the more animalistic aspects of our life. My breathy sighs spurred him on, my hands increasing their wandering across his torso, as I silently pleaded with him for more. Hoseok only made me wait a few moments more before sloppy kisses descended down my stomach.

A thin pair of cotton underwear separated us, but he simply licked over the fabric. I cried out, the pleasure sending shockwaves through my body. Long, hard swipes of his tongue had my writhing, his breath so hot and warm against me it felt like I was taking a scolding bath. With every lick and suck I felt myself grow hotter. Hoseok lost himself to his own pleasure, rubbing himself against the mattress as he held my legs apart.

Sex was not always so brazen. Our first few times were more primal, the need to be close after months of dancing around the issue making the release all the more powerful. After that, I had grown slightly shy. Hoseok had taken to leaving my top on during those days, letting me grow more comfortable in his presence, and taking me so gently I cried. The next 70 years have taught us a great deal about one another, and now sex was just a part of who we were. Not a day went by that we were not lost to it, each time bringing out a different part of us, before going back to our respective hobbies. In a storm like this, however, I imagined we would not leave this bed.

“Please,” I whined. “More.”

Finally, the thin piece of cotton was removed, and his tongue was on me. Long and broad at first, he liked to play with me for a few moments before diving in. Unlike myself, my love had enough patience to watch and wait. Savoring it, he said. I think he just enjoyed being the only person who could see my eyes roll back in ecstasy.

I felt the ghost of his fingers trailing down my leg at the same time his mouth found my clitoris. I hissed, back arching off the bed as he swirled his tongue around the bud. His finger pressed against my opening. I gushed around it, grinding my hips down and forcing the tip inside of me. Hoseok groaned, tongue becoming more aggressive. I cried out, pushing down again and swallowing more of his finger. Finally, with a deep growl, he pushed it the rest of the way and added another immediately after.

I had never felt more alive than when we were in this bed. With Hoseok on top of me, eyes hungry and watching my every move like I was the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. The monster within me was finally asleep as I became all consumed with his touch. Finding the soft bundle of nerves within me, Hoseok purred. I sobbed, the pleasure overwhelming.

“Look at you,” Hoseok rasped, moving from my sex to watch me. His fingers stretched me out as my hips raised to meet his thrusts. “So pretty and warm.”

He kissed my neck, “Your body is so beautiful.”

Languid kisses down across my throat, teeth gently grazing the skin, before trailing back down to my breasts. They had always been his favorite part of my body. He licked down the swell before kissing my nipple. His fingers sped up their menstruations making me mewl.

“God,” He croaked, voice deeper than normal. “You love this, don’t you?”

I nodded, body twitching and convulsing. “Yes.”

“Tell me how much,” He sucked on my left nipple.

I struggled to find words. My body was on fire now, my stomach tightening and expanding, and I knew I was close. My thighs were shaking so violently I would be embarrassed if it was anybody else, but this was Hoseok, and I knew he was happy to see my body singing for him. Somehow, I managed to speak.

“So much,” I breathed. “I love it so much.”

Sitting back on his ankles, he smirked. His shirt was gone and his toned body was on full display. I would never get bored of looking at him. Hoseok was the most beautiful person I had ever seen.

“You’re so messy,” His voice was like velvet. “So wet for me.”

His thumb found my clit and I was cumming before I could really savor the feeling. With a loud shout, I fell apart with Hoseok’s eyes on me. I was wired up and so desperate for more I began to beg. My pleas came out without a single thought behind them. I was drunk on pleasure and yearning for more.

“Just relax,” He finally said, hovering over me once more. His fingers were gone now and I began to tear at his pants. They were still wet and his skin had cooled the rain even further. “I’m going to take care of you.”

My hands were all over him. With his pants disposed of and his cock out, I held it tightly as I began to work my hands in a rhythm I knew he loved. Hoseok let out a guttural sound, a mix between a bear and a mountain lion, as he began to fondle my breasts again. Flicking my nipples, he fucked himself into my hand as he panted.

“Stop,” He grunted, grabbing hold of my wrist. “Grab your legs.”

I did as I was told. It had been difficult to let go of my control in the beginning. I was such a tightly wound person, my need for schedules and sameness a byproduct of my upbringing. I was raised to be prim, proper, and well put together. Even if I did not feel well, I was to be washed, dressed, and smiling all day long. Father would not accept anything less.

When my sexual relationship with Hoseok started, that was still a large part of who I was. When we changed we were frozen in time. It took a lot to cause great change within our kind. For myself, I had only had two since the burning stopped. The first was my decision to stop hunting the humans in my area. Animal blood helped calm the raging anger and depression I carried over from the last night I was alive. The second had been Hoseok’s arrival. Our mates changed us in the most profound way, and his existence made the looming sadness I carried with me fade. It was not gone, it would never fully heal for that was impossible, but he made the gaping hole in my heart three times smaller.

The other thing that changed was my horrible habit of controlling the people around me. Jin and the others all commented on my inability to relax or let go. Jimin, the first person Jin had ever changed, had joked that I was the only vampire in existence with wrinkles. I laughed at the time, but after Hoseok came to me I realized he had been right. I was always stressed, always striving for perfection, and always disappointed when it never came to fruition.

Laying underneath him, I was in awe at how easily I pushed my legs up against my chest. My arm pinned them down. There was not a worry about how improper I looked or if my hair was splayed out nicely. I did not care if this was perfect because I knew we were. Hoseok pressed himself to my entrance and I smiled. I did not need perfection so long as I had him.

Pushing himself into me, he cried out in pleasure while I chanted ‘yes’ over and over and over again. Buried to the hilt, Hoseok took a moment to hook my legs around his hips and kissed the tip of my nose. With a soft declaration of his love, he began to move.

I held onto his arms with everything I had. Hoseok was stronger than I was so I did not need to worry about my own strength bothering him. Outside the storm raged on while we rejoiced in our pleasure. Hoseok’s thrusts were hard, steady, and hit my deepest spot with precision. After so long we had one another memorized.

“S’good,” Hoseok slurred, his hips pistoning into me roughly. “You feel so good.”

I whimpered, “Baby, please.”

He grabbed my hair, roughly shoving my face into the mattress as he lifted his leg onto the bed. I wailed, his cock pounding into my g-spot making me see stars. His own sounds grew louder, growls and snarls filling the space as the sounds of us coming together grew louder and louder.

Fire was pooling in my lower abdomen, so hot it rivaled my change. I could feel Hoseok pulsing inside of me, his grip on my hair still hard and strong. Then he tugged, my head lifting off the bed as he manhandled me. He forced our mouths together, a clashing of teeth and tongue as he chased his own high. Time began to slow before fading, the fire all consuming, and I could no longer respond to Hoseok’s kisses. He let go of me then and I fell back onto the bed.

Everything faded into white, hot, searing sparks shooting up my entire body and licking my bones on their way out. I could vaguely hear the sound of something being torn as my body convulsed with the weight of my orgasm. Above me, Hoseok stuttered.

“I love you,” He said, his own pleasure closing in.

I hardly paid him any attention. Our kind would never tire, never sleep, or sweat, but I was positive I was at least two of them at this moment. I felt like I was in a trance as I watched him fall apart, his eyebrows pulled together and his mouth agape. His grunts and groans were more like cries now, higher and pitch and breathless. Then, with one final thrust he was spilling into me.

We stayed that way for a while, Hoseok inside of me as we looked into one another's eyes. Neither one of us was particularly tired but I knew we would take a break before our next round. The both of us enjoyed the human charade of cuddling and pretending to sleep for a time. Eyes closed and breathing evenly before finally one of us would break. Outside a particularly loud rumble made him grin.

“How would dancing in the rain sound?” He asked.

I laughed, heart full now that he was here.

“What kind of dancing?” I teased, already knowing my answer.

“Well, it will not require clothing.”

I pushed him away, sending his body back toward the other side of the room. With a wicked grin, Hoseok jumped to catch me, but I was already gone. If Hoseok was the strongest, I was the fastest. I ran down the hall, into my father's study, and out of the window with Hoseok fast on my trail.

My change had always seemed so meaningless before Hoseok came. Years spent wondering Louis’s reasoning and subsequent abandonment. I had never seen nor heard from either Louis or my mother since that night, and that left so much time for me to grow angry and bitter about this life. I hated what I was and who I was forced to be.

Now, running in with Hoseok in the afterglow of our love I realized something that would cause a third change within me. Everything that had led me up to this moment was worth it. All of the pain, loneliness, and heartache I had gone through was not a curse. It was a precursor. Every memory leading to the very reason for my existence closer still. A smile stretched across my face, one of my rarest, largest of smiles, and I let Hoseok catch me.

As long as he was here, nothing else mattered.

© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[theoryofthemultiverse]

Changsheng headcanons 🐍

An: Yep you heard right this was on my mind for far too long now, so I cannot hold myself back in sharing it with y‘all. There are some fluff and some nsfw headcanons so you can choose whether to leave the snake out of the bedroom (tbh I could understand).

Tw: The headcanons imply that you’re in a relationship with Baizhu :>, also snake?

Fluff

When you’re close to Baizhu, maybe helping in the Pharmacy, it’s Changsheng who would also slither onto your shoulders to be carried around, especially if Baizhu is currently concerning himself with patients.

When the hours get late, and you tiredly walk in to the room, Baizhu is sitting down to write down the latest of progress on the research of his herbs. Changsheng would make space on Baizhu's shoulder for you to put your head on when you sit down in Baizhu's lap.

She could follow you like a dog through the pharmacy sometimes if she feels like she’s up to it, nonetheless she also then lectures you sometimes. (🐍:”Don’t forget to take the thyme with you.” (Y/N):”Yes Changsheng I’m on it!” 🐍:”Did you already get the glaze Lily too?” (Y/N):”Changsheng!”)

Sometimes she will fetch you herbs or a prescription or even food if you ask her nicely.

The (embarrassing) things you don’t want her to say in any situation? Yeah she will most likely say them. (B:“Are you okay? I heard something fall just before.“ 🐍:“She is fine, she just was caught up thinking about you.“)

Will sometimes slither over your body just for fun, you’re sitting down reading something? How about she lies on your head? You fall asleep on the desk? Then your back looks like a nice bed for her at the moment. But you don’t mind most of the time.

Nsfw

When the situation allows it, she would take her opportunity at the morning to see if you and Baizhu are awake already and see you squirm around in bed moaning said man’s name. She couldn’t just sit there and do nothing about it seeing you so helpless and hot. So she simply got up the bed to feed your thoughts and dreams a little by slithering up on your leg around all over your body.

Has more experience than Baizhu when it comes to bedroom activities, I mean that girls been around for ages, she’s seen a lot. So while she isn’t particularly interested in taking part as well, she definitely gives one or the other comment on how to do it better.

Would sometimes though jump into action and either wrap herself around either of your necks to choke you or tie certain body parts of the two of you together. (Snakes are quite the strong creatures, so man I believe she could)

Would even more jump into action sometimes and flick or rub her tail on your sweet spot simply to add more stimulation to your body.

If she happened to still be there in aftercare then, if one of you needed to leave the room, they would make Changsheng stay with the other so the other wouldn’t feel alone :(

[mythrae]

On the Lowest

Summary: Sworn to secrecy, you and Gale relieve a bit of stress during a midnight tryst. (aka Gale Dekarios fucks)

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: 18+ (minors do NOT interact), smut without plot

Author's Notes:

Thank u all for voting in my tumblr poll I hope this is to your liking

Tav is described as having female genitalia

This might be a little OOC for Gale but I definitely see him as a switch kind of guy, he's just a little more of a top in this bc ya girl is a bottom

I haven't written smut in a LONG time and this isn't beta'd so please be kind

Click here to read on AO3 :)

Usually, you never mixed your business with pleasure.

It was a dangerous game, one you knew all too well. You found yourself often thinking with what’s between your legs rather than between your ears, and in an environment where you’re working closely with others, it can lead to many awkward situations with your companions. So awkward, in fact, you feared that someone could potentially leave your party over it.

But there was something about the Wizard of Waterdeep that made you want to risk it all.

You had taking a liking to Gale ever since he joined your party. Kind, intelligent, powerful, he was a formidable ally, and a good companion to keep around.

But he first intrigued you in that way while fighting through the Shadow Cursed lands, after a particularly tough battle. Gale had made a comment to you about how he read that a brush with danger may have an effect on one’s desire for… other forms of stimulation.

He understood when you told him that you weren’t looking for a long-term partner, especially with the dubious task of removing the tadpole in the forefront of your mind. But, as long as the two of you kept it a secret, you supposed there was nothing wrong with having a little fun and releasing some of your stress.

***

While the rest of the camp slept soundly at the Last Light Inn, you you found yourself tip toeing out into the night. Placing the pixies bell in your pocket, just in case, you walked on the outskirts of the safe haven, until you found the make-shift bridge made from rocks. You leaped across, being cautious to not slip and fall into the rushing water below. 

As you entered the Shadow Cursed lands, you cautiously made your way up the stairs, hand on your weapon just in case. You approached the abandoned house, the perfect size for 

“Hello?” You called out, hoping and praying no one else was there.

You approach the bedroom, pulling back the heavy curtain that took the place of the door. Gale was already lying on the bed in his camp clothes, a small candle burning on the nightstand next to him.

“Ah, there you are.” He said, sitting up on the mattress and standing to greet you. “I was starting to worry the Shadow Curse had gotten you.”

You reach in your pocket and show off the pixie’s bell as you stand in front of him. Your heart beats a little faster in your chest — it’s been a while since you’ve done anything like this. Would tonight make you feel satiated? Or regretful?

“A wise choice.” He commended as you stuffed it away. “You never know what dastardly creatures could be out here, you know.”

“What, like you?”

“Precisely.”

He wasted absolutely no time, leaning in to press his lips against yours. He kissed you feverishly, like a starving dog lunging for a piece of raw meat. You could taste the fine wine from dinner left on his lips, and you felt yourself slowly getting drunk off him. Your knees grew weak as you feel his hands rest at your hips, your desire slowly starting to build between your legs.

You rested your hands at the nape of his neck, a shaky sigh escaping his mouth as your fingertips trailed down his spine. Hells, you knew the man was touch-starved, but you didn’t realize how badly…

You nibbled at his lower lip, enticing a soft moan from the wizard, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips. He pulls you closer to him, and you can feel his arousal straining through his trousers, begging to be freed.

He broke the kiss, panting heavily. “Lie back.”

You followed his command, falling back on the soft mattress as you gazed upon his face in the candlelight. 

Dare you say, he looked very handsome kneeling in between your legs.

His fingers made light work of your trousers, untying the laces and pulling them off swiftly to reveal your underclothes. He placed a soft kiss on the thin fabric, playfully nudging at your clit with his nose, sending a dull wave of pleasure rolling through your body. You heard him breathe in deeply, taking you for a bit of a surprise as you propped up on your elbows to watch him.

“Getting a whiff of my natural musk, are you?” 

Gale let out a light chuckle, tugging off your underwear with his teeth to expose your fragrant heat to him. “Darling, there’s nothing I need more.”

Lifting your legs to rest on top of his shoulders, his mouth is on you in an instant. He couldn’t wait another moment, he had to taste you now.

You feel his wet tongue delving between your folds, lapping hungrily at your essence. Your fingers snake through his locks and grip tightly, the coils already tightening in your lower belly. Gods, how long had it been since anyone had touched you like this, let alone tasted you? You weren’t sure, getting lost in the divine sensation of Gale burying his face in you.

Whatever he was doing with his tongue must be enchanted, the way he’s making you feel right now.

Your breath hitched as you sensed two of his fingers toying at your entrance, his brown eyes looking to yours for permission. You nodded, biting your lip, as he gently pushed them inside you. A moan slipped from your lips, enticing him to move his fingers faster, more rapidly, as your eyes rolled back in your head.

Gods, this is too fucking good, you thought, tightening your grip in his hair and almost pulling Gale out from between your legs.

But the wizard was much stronger, the fingers of his free hand wrapped around your hip and keeping you in place. His ministrations continued as you felt him suckle at your clit, your hips bucking his face in response.

“Gale…” you moan softly, afraid that even though you were out of earshot, the others would still hear you.

His mouth moved away from your folds, “Yes, dear? What is it?”

The ache in between your legs intensified. His two fingers thrusting inside your sex weren’t enough to satisfy you. 

No, you needed all of him.

“I need you. Inside me.” You stammered, embarrassed to beg for him out loud.

“Ah ah, use your words,” he demanded, his fingers slipping out of you. “Tell me, what do you want?”

“You…your cock.” You confessed, bashfully.

“Mmm,” he hummed, kissing your sex one final time. “Eager, aren’t we?”

His hands move to both your thighs, lifting them from his shoulders and pushing them back onto your chest. He stood over you, quickly stripping himself of his camp clothes. You watched him intently, your eyes gazing upon his form. He was lean, but fit, almost as if you were looking at the body of a God. With the sigil in his chest glowing bright, it would be easy to mistake him for one.

As you watched him slip off his trousers, you were a little shocked at how... well endowed Gale was. You had a feeling he would be, but to see it with your own two eyes was quite the treat.

He held on to the base of his cock, stroking it as he lined himself up to your slick entrance. He looked to you, searching for your consent to sink himself in you.

You don't hesitate, nodding quickly, nearly pleading with him to fuck you already.

His slowly slides himself in your wetness, both of you letting out a delighted sigh as the two of you became one. His hands grabbed your hips, digging into the flesh as he sheathes himself in you. He didn't break his gaze with you for a single moment, his eyes growing darker the deeper he went.

"Don't be gentle," you whisper as he fills you entirely for the first time.

He lets out a groan, his breath hot with desire.

You hear him mutter something under his breath, but before you can make out what he said, he leans down, pressing a kiss on your forehead before he thrusts himself back out, only to snap his hips into yours with full force.

Nine Hells, he's like an animal.

You cry out as he pounds you relentlessly, skin slapping on your sensitive nub over and over again. The same magic that enchanted his mouth and fingers must have been at work again, the way he nearly had you at your climax so quickly. He knew it too, a small smile forming at his open lips as he reached for a clothed breast, wrinkling your shirt even further as he kneads it in his hand.

Your eyes closed tight as you turned your head away, the pleasure taking you to a different realm entirely. Sweat rolled down his brow as he continued to rock into you, his hands moved to cradle your face and spinning it back to face him.

"Look at me," he ordered, "I want to see you fall apart."

You locked eyes with him as the coils in your lower belly continued to tighten, your body beginning to shake as the hot white feeling welled up, begging to explode. He kept on hitting that sweet spot deep within you, over and over again...

You took his thumb in your teeth as he rubbed it against your lips, sucking on the digit as your eyes still focused on him. You felt his hips began to stutter, he was close to his own release. Your teeth scraped against the pad of his thumb, inciting a gasp from his lips as he bucked in response.

Oh, hells, you were done for.

You felt your walls quiver around him as you finally gave in to your climax, hot waves of pleasure coursing through your body as your vision went blurry. Gale's thumb slipped out of your mouth as he felt you around him, pulling himself out of you as you felt his hot seed pooling on your lower stomach.

The two of you panted loudly as you came down from your conjoined release, holding each other's gaze. His eyes were no longer darkened by lust, but looked rather... warm. As if he was looking upon a long lost lover.

The thought made your cheeks flush for a moment, but you quickly shook the feeling away. You didn't have time for romance, for relationships, not with the fear of ceremorphosis at the front of your mind. Removing the mind flayer tadpole was your only priority.

And yet... the thought of Gale holding you close at night didn't seem like the worst possible outcome.

"Are you all right, dear?" He asked, brushing a stray hair behind your ear.

"I'm fine," you replied, leaning your head in the palm of his hand. "That was... wonderful."

He smiled, rubbing your cheekbone with his thumb reverently.

"But don't forget, this stays between us, all right? Keep it on the down low."

"On the lowest, darling." He smiled, moving his hand to create an X over the orb in his chest. "You have my word."

***

“Thou hast now a bosom companion.” The voice of Withers wakes you from your slumber with a jolt. “Take care that thou art not distracted on thy quest, seeking the comforts of the flesh.”

A moment passes between the two of you. You’re wondering as to why Withers was standing right above your tent, let alone why he would seek you out in the first place.

Then, the words of his message become clear in your mind.

“… excuse me?” You ask, bewildered as to how he would know what happened between you and Gale the night before, especially when they weren't even at camp when it happened.

“Recall that in time, all becomes dust and bone.”

Without another cryptic word, Withers turns and stalks away, leaving you alone to your very confused thoughts. There was only one response you could give to him:

“… okay, Bone Man.”

[tactfullyinappropriate]

This is part rant, part sex advice so read at your own discretion. Also one of those posts I'll get a lot of flak for.

In lesbian nsfw content on tumblr dot com one of the most prevalent sentiments is 'I want to pleasure my partner' (insert any variation on it) which is fair and all, and there are a lot of service tops around so it makes sense really. But. For some of us who have difficulty experiencing orgasm or even enjoying sex at all, making our pleasure the focal point of the experience is the absolute worst thing you could do.

It's a nice sentiment, I guess, but if it doesn't actually produce pleasure, is it really that nice? And before you come at me with 'some people really are just service tops and they get their pleasure from pleasuring their partner' - I get it, I do. As a top (or dom/me) you have the right to your preferences and you may absolutely refuse to tell your partner 'Your orgasm is inconsequential, I'm gonna fuck you anyway'. Not to mention that approach is verging on kinky and getting near mindfuck territory, which not every top (as in the person doing the penetration in this case) is comfortable with. Heck, not every dom/me is comfortable with that either - pretending to disregard your partner's pleasure can be a particular flavor of kink not everyone is into.

Buuut.. a lot of what I'm seeing here comes across more as a lack of real-world experience rather than a self-aware preference to focus on your partner's pleasure. Like for example, the amount of 'overstimulation' posts I'm seeing is just wildly disproportionate compared to the amount of women who can be forced to orgasm again and again, and again. This has never been my experience on either side of the dynamic, nor the experience of any of my friends or acquaintances. More often than not, women have trouble reaching a climax and can't really be "forced" into it.

Orgasms are not just a bodily sensation triggered by a certain type of mechanical stimulation. They require you to be in the right headspace as well. So if you actually want to bring about an orgasm, dropping the pressure may be (I want to say usually is) your best bet.

Look, I get it. I've been with women who come from a 2-minute clit rub. I didn't feel particularly accomplished with them... but they do exist! How wonderful for them and the people who just love pleasuring them. The rest of us however? 'Your pleasure is my pleasure' is the worst approach with us. Like, thanks, now if I don't come not only am I bruising your ego but also diminishing your pleasure? That's A LOT of pressure put on my fickle mental focus and unreliable vagina.

All of this is to say: it's fine to have your fantasies of overstimulating a partner to the point of incoherence. But be prepared that the reality of sex may be very, very different depending on how your partner's body and mind work. And sometimes, if your partner's pleasure really is that important to you, pretending it's the complete opposite might be the key to the castle - if you can get with that of course. Nothing's done a better job at helping me let go and experience actual pleasure than a partner's response to my 'I'm not sure if I can come though...':

"That's okay, baby. I don't need you to come for me to enjoy your body."

Um. Yes, Sir.

*I use the word 'woman' here purely based on my actual real-life experience so far but I'm sure this is applicable to a number of different identities. Even for some cis men orgasms are not as easy and effortless as porn makes it seem, I've been told.

[sloth-babied]

Pleasant Distraction

Shuri x POC reader

Summary: You attempt to study, but Shuri's undying need for your attention gets in the way.

Contains: Just self-indulgent smut (18+). Clitoral stimulation, vaginal fingering, and overstimulation.

Word count: 1298

You sit on your bed with a laptop on your lap, working on homework as usual. Your time was constantly consumed by college, particularly by class readings. Shuri often insisted she could help you…help you cheat. Obviously this was for her benefit. 

Shuri sits right beside you, laying her arm on the pillows behind you. She looks at your computer screen. “Homework again?”

You lightly laugh before turning to peck her cheek. “Every week, Shuri.”

“Education is a curse,” she mutters.

You face your laptop. “Says the smartest girl in the world.”

“Point taken.”

Shuri leans back against the headboard, watching you read. “What class is this for?”

“Anthropology,” you respond.

“And you like it?”

You shrug. “I mean, yeah, it’s pretty interesting. Culture and what-not. The science part trips me up though.”

“I can help you with that,” she leans her head on your shoulder.

“Sure, maybe after I finish the reading.”

Your attention remains on the screen, which Shuri doesn’t appreciate. This has happened numerous times before. She’ll pester you with questions, hoping you’ll indulge her, until you tell her, “Shuri, I love you, but I really need to focus.” 

You hate seeing her disappointed. She works a lot in her lab in Wakanda, and when she finds time to visit you, you’re drowned with school work. 

There’s absolutely no doubt that you would rather drop this to spend time with your girlfriend, but you can’t. Despite what Shuri sometimes believes is a distraction, she understands…for the most part. There are classes you’re passionate about, and she enjoys hearing you speak about it, even if she’s perfectly knowledgeable in each subject. 

Shuri thinks to herself, refraining from repeating her weekly rejection, however her silence–something you should appreciate–feels suspicious. You know the pattern. But today no one follows it. 

You can admit you like the light banter between the two of you when she tries to get your attention. It’s cute. She’s cute. She’s always cute. 

Nonetheless you go on with your reading, until her presence becomes difficult to ignore. The hand behind you starts stroking your upper arm. You attempt to digest each word, except now every one of them turn to gibberish when Shuri slides your short sleeve up, kissing your now-bare shoulder.

She’s always been affectionate. Yeah, this is fine, you convince yourself. Nothing crazy.

Things start drifting away from “fine” when her other hand sneaks onto your lap, dragging lines up and down your thigh. You deeply inhale at the contact, trying to ignore her even when your face grows hot. God, you hate the effect she has on you sometimes. 

You continue to ignore her when her fingers travel to your inner thigh, so close to your clothed-pussy. Another deep breath. 

You blink excessively, refusing to reveal the way your body is happily responding to her. She runs her middle finger up and down your folds.

“Shuri.”

She doesn’t respond, but she does pull her hand away, although she has no intentions of stopping. She adjusts herself so that you’re sat between her legs.

“Shuri,” you repeat.

She hums, feigning an innocence that you know damn well isn't there, smooching your temple while reaching for your waistband.

“I’m trying to focus.” Yet you’re doing nothing to stop her, and she's very aware of that.

“Keep focusing then,” she murmurs breathily, returning her lips to your neck, kissing the spot right below your earlobe. Christ.

Her hand slithers beneath both your pants and underwear, landing at your clitoris. And yes, you should tell her to stop. But fuck, you just can’t. She knows the hold she has on you and she loves taking advantage of it. 

She nips at your ear, circling your clit. You still haven’t opened your legs yet. Instead they squirm under the heat of your laptop. Shuri’s other hand reaches for your breast over your shirt, squeezing as her other hand circles faster with more pressure.

“Jesus!” Your knee pulls up unintentionally and your laptop almost slides off your lap. You catch it before it does. “Shuri,” you attempt to scold her, but it comes out as a moan. 

She chuckles, closing the laptop.

You try to open it back up, but she adamantly shuts it again.

“You’re not even reading,” she mumbles against your jaw, pushing the laptop off of you. “Stop acting like you are.”

The back of your head falls on her shoulder and your jaw falls open when the burning-like sensation grows as she rubs rapidly on your clit. Her circular motions cease once she settles on moving side-to-side. Your hips lift, legs spread, and your hand reaches back, holding the side of her neck.

Shuri’s fingers slip from your wetness.

“Still want me to stop?” She disconnects from you, rubbing her wet fingers against each other instead. “I mean, I can stop, but it seems like you don’t want me to.”

She knows what she’s doing, and now you’re frustrated. Sighing, you accept your defeat, shoving your pants off with your feet. “Can you please just…” you trail off.

“Please what? Want me to keep touching you? Or is anthropology more interesting than me?”

Oh, what a fucking brat.

“Please,” you take her wrist and push her back to your pussy. “Please, Shuri.”

“Okay, my love,” she snickers, sliding below your clit, roaming through your folds until she enters her middle and ring finger inside you. “As you wish.”

Bast, she enjoys having you like this. Legs spread just for her. Chest heaving just for her. All of your moans and whimpers, just for her. All intentions of school work are thrown out the window. Just for her.

And maybe you need this. It’s good to release some tension, right? You’ve been overworking yourself anyway. Might as well reward yourself for a bit. Shuri thinks you deserve it, that’s for certain. 

But there’s no doubt she’s also doing it for herself.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whimper when her other hand moves from your breast to your clit. Your toes curl and your hands grip each of her forearms. 

“Look here,” she tells you. When you do, she kisses you passionately.

You continue to moan, the noise from the back of your throat flowing into Shuri’s mouth. Your lips sloppily move against hers, your mind all dazed and your mouth as moist as the fingers inside of you.

The pace of her hands are different—one slowly pumping in and out of your pussy and the other quickly rubbing your nub. 

“Oh, god,” you pant as your eyes fall onto the erotic image of her tattooed hands working on and in you. Her hands, her hands, her hands; god, she really knows how to use them.

You finally cum, her name and other babbled nonsense escaping your mouth as she coos, “That’s right, my love.”

But despite finishing, Shuri doesn’t quit.

“Wait,” your body quakes, all too sensitive. You try to shift away, but her hands grasp your inner thighs, dragging you right back against her body. 

“I’m not done yet,” she plunges her fingers back inside your pussy and the fingers on her other hand placed on your incredibly delicate clit.

“Shuri, fuck, please,” your head falls on her shoulder again, eyes rolling back and your hips wriggling. You haven’t released her arms. Your grip only tightens as she forces another orgasm out of you.

Your back arches and your vision practically goes white, so fucking overwhelmed. She releases your clit and she pumps slower until she doesn't pump at all, satisfied with where she's gotten you.

You tremble, easing off your second climax. You mutter, “Shit,” as you catch your breath. “You’re a bitch,” you puff out.

Shuri rubs her palm on your bare thighs. “But you liked it.”

You really did. “Yeah, whatever.”

[secret-smut-sideblog]

Strawberry Wine

(AA break up series, part 10! can be read alone, this one's mostly porn tbh)

Gale x F! Tav / Ascended Astarion x F! Tav

18+ tenderness, domestic bliss, grinding, lap dance (kind of), counter sex, breast worship (m!), p-in-v, prostate stimulation, confessions of feelings, confrontations, sex as a tool, handjob, oral (m!), sub/dom

The decision to dethrone the Ascendant at its precipice, Tav enjoys some much deserved domestic comfort with Gale. But time is running out and she must meet him one last time...

Masterlist, Prev Chapter

-

She took a steadying breath, staring down the patch of soft grass.

It's just a front handspring, something she's done countless times. Surely, her body will remember. A modified one shouldn't be too difficult, right?

Leaning forward, she pulled into a handstand, legs swimming slowly above her in a testing motion.

Lifting one hand onto fingertips, she centered her tension into her shoulder. Okay, that's promising.

She rose back on feet and huffed out a breath. Pressing the knuckles of her left hand into her lower back.

Taking a running start, she bounced once and planted her hand on the grass, legs arcing over her head. Dismounting somewhat gracefully.

"Ha!" She barked, victorious.

"By Elminster's Beard, Tav!" Gale shouted, rushing outside. Wiping his hands quickly on his apron. "It's only been two weeks! Be careful!"

"Oh I'm fine. Tara's watching!"

His eyes darted incredulous to the little tressym sitting attentively on the stone bench.

"She's quite impressive, Mr. Dekarios. Did you see the flip?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose, hand on hip.

"Yeah, did you see the flip?" Tav bounced excitedly.

"No, I did not. And even without the orb I don't know if my sensibilities can take that presently."

He ushered forward, smoothing hands along her back, her stomach.

"I'm really okay, Gale. Don't worry." She smiled, nuzzling into his beard.

He sighed wearily. Planting a soft kiss on her temple.

"I was coming to tell you dinner is ready, you menace."

"Oooh, yay!" She chirped.

They could both feel eyes on them from the treeline, a near constant sensation at this point.

He hadn't approached since her venom spouted that night at the barrier. But she knew he was always somewhere nearby, even if only in thrall's watching ceaselessly.

She had taken to ignoring it, but it still made Gale bristle.

He really doesn't let up, does he?

She smiled, letting him lead her inside by the small of her back. Tara trotting between their feet.

Right? You'd think he'd have better things to dedicate time to. Like being a Lord.

Gale snorted, shutting the door decisively behind them.

"Oh it smells heavenly in here." She sighed. A tangy spiced flavor floating in the air.

"Something I've made many times, but never for someone else. Never for you." He led her to the counter.

"Ohh, gyros!" She bounced on her heels excitedly.

"Oh good, you like lamb." He laughed, clearly relieved.

"I could fuck up some lamb anyday, I promise you that."

They ate together on the plush couch, him telling her about a stint in his youth at Blackstaff. Her listening rapturously, nodding and licking sauce from her fingers.

It was everything she had been missing, a comfortable bliss. His hand resting on her ankle, his food temporarily forgotten on the low table as he animatedly talked, his brown eyes dancing with mirth. Getting to a particularly juicy part of his story.

She felt a great swelling in her chest.

He had started Weaving unconsciously, little trails of blue light leaving his fingers. Something she noticed him doing when he got really invested in an activity.

She was smitten with him.

Leaning forward, she kissed him.

He startled, then quickly leaned into her. His Weaving fingers caressing against her hip.

"Sorry, you're just so kissable." She laughed, pulling back slightly.

"Mmm, I'll consider your apology. Interrupting my very thorough tale of mischief." He hummed, fingers kneading into the plush of her thigh.

He was obsessed with her hips, thighs, and ass. His hands seemed to have a magnetic pull to them. Catching him staring hungrily at her backside, eyes sliding away innocently when she would turn.

With a mischievous grin she realized he hadn't seen her dance yet.

"I'm going to go bathe, acrobatics do leave you sweaty." She kissed his jaw, beard scratching her. "Dinner was incredible. That was honestly one of the best meals I've had in a long time."

His ears flushed, and he cleared his throat, a small smile flitting across his face. Gathering their plates. "Well, thank you. It's quite a simple recipe, I can make it again if you'd like."

"I'm going to hold you to that. Among other things." She purred, turning to shoot him a salacious smile over her shoulder.

She heard the plates clatter and hid her smile behind her hand, turning down the hall with a little spin on her heel.

The enchanted lights hanging in air, the gentle sounds of insects calling for one another in the night, she wandered into the kitchen.

Securing her hair towel she reached into the ice chest for a drink, humming along with the enchanted music playing low. A slow winding beat, unconsciously rocking her hips to it.

Draped in just his sleep shirt and cozy socks, she found her prize and made to close the chest.

Hands snaked around her hips, a body pressing against her backside.

"Well, hello." She purred, smiling mischievously.

She swayed her hips, popping open the drink and taking one nonchalant pull.

How had Karlach put it when they had gone out dancing once she got touch back?

"How do you do that? It's like your hips are on a swivel!"

He gasped as she swirled figure eights with her hips, lifting and dropping them.

She could feel his erection growing as she moved, biting her lip in a smile.

He was silent behind her, completely entranced.

She body rolled in half time to the music. Serpentine, a waving ribbon of sensuality.

His fingers dug into her hips, starting to rock in time with her. Grinding into her ass.

Oh this was too much fun.

Just to tease him, she leaned on her knees and vibrated her hips.

That broke his trance, letting out a guttural groan.

His mage hand shot past her ear, pushing the contents of the counter onto the floor, two more gripping under her hips spinning her and lifting her onto it.

His mouth laced into hers, his hand gripping her hip flush with him still.

The heat between them felt primal. Speaking only through pulsing moans and heat slick fingers. Mouths love swollen and seeking.

She was already soaking wet, pulling at the ties of his sleep pants. Leaning down and taking one of his nipples in her mouth.

He whined as she swirled her tongue, nibbling down. His hips rocking hard into her.

She freed his cock from its fabric cage, already leaking precum. Lined him up with her entrance.

He shuddered as she pushed slowly into him, rolling her hips.

She switched to the other side of his chest, suckling the peak into her moaning mouth.

His hips were already slamming into her, eyes clenched shut. Panting breath a miasma around them both.

She reached under him and rolled her fingers into the place under his cock. Laving her tongue up and down his chest.

His eyes shot open, then went into the back of his head.

His whole body tremored as he gasped out indignant whimpers. Gripping into her hips like a lifeline. His head falling forward as he braced down.

She could see every strike of his release hit him as he winced, nearly looking to be in pain.

He turned his head to the side almost in shame as he flooded her cunt.

She pulled his face back to hers, pulling his bottom lip into her teeth.

His hand shot forward to brace on the cupboard, a heightened wave striking him so hard that she felt his body start to buckle.

He finally collapsed into her shoulder, gripping onto her back. Heart hammering so hard she could feel it against her chest.

She scratched in parallel lines along his scalp, wrapping her hips around his lower back.

She slipped off of the counter and pulled him to the floor with her. The cold tile welcome against her legs.

He folded into her and softly sniffled. A spreading dampness on her collar where his eyes rested.

She hushed and cooed, pulling him fully into her body with her bent legs.

They didn't have to speak through mouth or mind. Just washing each other over with what they felt.

His longing, loneliness, a bone deep gratitude, reveling. But with a strike of fear. Yearning for lost time. Things now held but ultimately missed.

Her soft warmth, wrapping around him. The puddling relaxation she felt with him. Some thorn laced anxieties underneath, but all she sent him was velvet touch. Adoration.

"I love you." He murmured, almost painfully.

She thought she might too, but she felt that rise of fear. Those vampire shaped thorns rising higher and twisting.

"I know." He said softly the sensation washing over him. "Take your time, you can catch up with me."

He curled his head against her shoulder, holding her between her shoulderblades. "This is more than enough for me now."

Now she was crying, a hiccup caught in her throat.

She thought about the last time she had been back pressed to wood and crying on the floor.

He felt that and nodded into her, agreeing that this was much better.

Laying awake she stared at him, turned on her side in the bed.

He slept like a stone, totally knocked out from their heat earlier.

She smiled at him, twisting his hair behind his ear. The slow smile that crossed his sleeping face when she touched him.

Gods she desperately didn't want to leave the cradle of his bed, but she had one last chance tonight.

Slipping out of his arms his sleeping form whined and reached for her.

"I'll be back soon, love." She murmured, kissing his hairline.

Pulling a dark blue robe off of the dresser, she wrapped herself and trotted downstairs.

She slipped on shoes, and heard Tara pad up behind her.

"Late night wandering, Mrs. Dekarios?"

Tav cheeks heated. Nearly dropping the shoe she was pulling on her heel.

"Tara, please. We are not even close to married." She admonished to Tara's little spinning body around her feet. Looking up at her with far too knowing eyes.

"I need to step outside for a moment. If Gale wakes tell him I'm safe."

"You're going to try one last time, I wager?" She sighed in a resigned and disapproving but ultimately supportive way.

"I at least owe him that." Tav sighed.

She shut the door gently behind her, heading for the woods behind the tower.

As soon as she reached the barrier, he was already there. Standing expectantly, smiling in that preening way with hands behind his back.

"Hello, Astarion." She stopped just short of the wavering magic separating them.

"Hello, my sweet. What do I owe this late night meeting?"

"When we were together..." She saw him bristle at the word were, but caught himself. Smoothing back out into that fluid smile.

"Did you ever compel me? And please don't lie, I don't have time for it anymore."

She heard Mephistopheles' cackle of agreement behind her but didn't bother turning, knowing it to be an illusion.

"No, I never did. Don't you think I would have made you my spawn already if I had?"

He made a good point.

"Why?"

"Why, what pet?"

"Why didn't you?"

He seemed to look in himself, his posture turning and pulling in just like it used to when he really considered something.

Just that little mannerism made her heart ache.

"I honestly don't know. It just seemed... wrong."

She stepped forward, the thread that tied her heart to his reeling her in.

Then he scoffed, walls rising again. "And naturally, beneath me. As if I need to compel others to get what I want."

She stopped short. Frustration snapping a band against the back of her head. They were getting nowhere.

She pushed past the barrier and saw the shock in his eyes. Backpedaling as she drew closer.

"Fine. We can talk in the only way you know how now." She dropped her robe, pooling at her feet.

His wide eyes drank her naked form for a moment, darting up to her eyes. Confused.

That was promising. She stepped forward, closing the distance between them.

Pressing her lips into his, she cupped his cheeks. Trying to remember how she used to feel in these moments with him and pouring it out over his body.

For a moment, she wished she had the mind meld she had with Gale here. But quickly realized that would be a disadvantage in this situation.

He pulled her hard into his body, groaning as her tongue danced along his.

She was here for information ultimately, needing to be sure her sacrifice would even work. If there was still enough of him left she still had a chance.

Closing her eyes, she went back into her body's memory. How she touched him then. When he still loved her.

She hooked her fingers into the waistband of his trousers, pulling him further into her. Lips falling to the unmarked side of his neck. Moaning out as she pulled and lapped at the marble column of his neck.

A shudder pulled through him and she rewarded it by rocking her hand against his bulge.

"Fuck," He hissed, holding her by the hair to his throat.

She moaned. Encouragement. Reaching inside his finely tailored trousers.

His cock met her hand with a welcoming throb. Already a pillar, sitting up against his belly.

She spat down his front, the trail meeting her hand. Working him in her tight fist, looking in his eyes to see his reaction.

His head fell back, then came back down, eyes lidded. That old face he used to make when he was, in his words, 'fuck stupid'.

She smiled, pulling his shirt open. Revealing the plane of his chest.

His nipples were already hard, standing at attention.

"If you stay nice, I'll let you finish in my throat."

He nodded, his body oozing need.

Her tongue met his nipple, swirling it into her mouth.

"Ah!" He gasped, pulling her head to him harder. Cock throbbing in her hand.

Slick began pooling between her legs. This was a strategic move, but Gods if her body didn't call for him. Too much shared time of bodies sliding against one another to remain impartial.

She kept working his chest, doing that pulsing suckle that used to make him squirm.

He reacted just as she hoped, twisting against her. Breath all panting and hitching moans.

Hand already soaked in his precum she sped up her strokes then slowed to a glacial pace. Leading him to the edge then pulling him back.

"Fuck, please. Ugh!-" He groaned loudly as her teeth nibbled down. "Your throat. Let me."

His words were all cut sentences, just like before. Struggling to get a coherent thought out.

Dropping to knees she pulled him free, unsnapping the button.

She couldn't give him time to get his bearings so she opened her throat.

His length disappeared entirely into her mouth, lips meeting his base.

"Gods!" He choked.

Suctioning her lips down she began bobbing her head. Doing the last trick she remembered pulled him apart.

She undulated her tongue against his underside while humming. Gripping his hips to keep him in place.

He nearly buckled, head falling back. Panting up into the night sky.

His hand gripped into her hair, but didn't direct it.

That was it, that was what she was looking for. If he could have her like this and not take control, there was still some piece of him left. Steeling her resolve tenfold.

Alright, time to finish up.

She pulled his trousers down enough to slip her hand underneath, pushing one finger inside him. Curling towards his navel. Pressing swirling circles into his prostate.

"Fuck!" He did buckle then, head falling forward. Knees shaking.

That telltale tremor spread from his center and she braced for him.

Just for her own petty enjoyment she looked up at him that way he said made him crazy. Eyes wide and pleading.

His eyes met hers and he was gone.

Hot fluid shot down the back of her throat as she held open for him. Finger inside milking him for even more, mouth sucking hard.

He nearly sobbed, a tapestry being unwound. Gripping onto her hair, her shoulder, for dear life. Fingers surely leaving a bruise.

He started to collapse as she still bobbed her head, another pulse of fluid pouring down the back of her throat. She wrapped strong around his thighs with her free hand. He's not getting away that easy.

He was shuddering so hard, making her purr in accomplishment.

As the last of his spend gushed out she pulled away, swallowing. Looking in his eyes decisively as she did.

He fell back onto the soil, looking at her wide eyed. A question seemed to dance on his eyes, but she wasn't here to answer.

Rising on feet, she grabbed Gale's robe and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

"See you soon, Starlight."

She turned and stepped back into the barrier, wrapping the ties around her waist. Not looking back.

Returning to the arms that she desired, that she deserves.

~

Final Part

[wannabegwenstacy]

Eden's Favorite Scoups Tumblr Fics

updated: 5/2/2023

A/N: check out the full svt fic recs masterlist for some of the other members. warning i'm a baby carat so its not super full yet and i currently have only some members posts created currently. will be updating with more fic recs periodically. :)

A/N: Also, I don't have a lot of fics linked yet. :( Will continue reading and updating periodically.

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⇣Below cut⇣

Terrifyingly Innocent by @twogyuu

Pairing: Seungcheol x fem!reader

Genre: Fluff, angst, fake dating, slowburn, older brother’s best friend!Seungcheol, badboy!Seungcheol, innocent!reader, older brother!Jihoon, non-idol!au, university!au, low-key Crazy Rich Asians!au (Seungcheol is RICH - implied chaebol lifestyle, Jihoon and reader's family aren't chaebols and are commoners but well-off)

Warnings: PG-13, specific warnings will be listed per chapter.

Summary: Fearful of losing her, yet unwilling to leave; this agreement between Seungcheol and his best friend’s little sister was meant to be casual and temporary, yet he finds himself growing more attached to her day by day.

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push it down (sooner or later it all comes out) by @dontflailmenow

Pairing: Seungcheol x fem!reader

word count: 50,301

genre: smut (18+), enemies to lovers, camboy au, angst (with a happy ending)

Warnings: adult language, excessive use of petnames, copious amounts of banter, e2l antagonism/shenanigans, camboy!cheol, strength kink, size kink, blink and you miss it sir kink, reader likes being a brat and cheol is into it, brief discussion about/hints of potential sexual power dynamics (but they're pretty tame imo), two instances of ass-swatting, mutually consensual possessiveness, semi-public touching, explicit sexual content: masturbation (m. and f.), manual stimulation (m. and f. receive), oral sex (m. and f. receive), protected and unprotected sex + creampie.

Summary: thirsting over your ex’s best friend in general is a bad idea. given that you and seungcheol have never gotten along, it’s even worse. when you accidentally stumble across his stream, though, and he finds out? all bets are off.

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baguette by @bwinnies

Pairing: choi seungcheol x reader

Wordcount: 1.2k

Warnings: FLUFF , some cursing , food is mentioned (they’re in a grocery store) , seungcheol may make u kinda weak ngl

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FINE DINING 101: STEP ONE (s.c) by @ncteez

Pairing: seungcheol x afab reader 

Wordcount: 3.6k

Warnings: pussy eating (he gets in there), masturbation in the form of humping the mattress and then into his hand, finger fucking, there isn’t any penetration or anything but like– maybe in a part two they can actually do more??? idk it depends on if y’all want a part two.

Summary: Is it weird that no man has ever given you some good head and your best friend is a bit annoyed by that? Probably not. Is it weird that he offers to eat you out after a particularly bad date? Oh yeah, for sure. You’re still gonna let him though. 

or the one where seungcheol proves to you just how good he is at giving head.

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Remind Me by @milfgyuu

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x Fem!Reader

Wordcount: 2.7k

Genre: fluff, humor

Warnings: mc gets drunk, cheol sleeps in underwear only (u can fight me on this), like one (1) unintentional innuendo.

Summary: You’ve had a little too much to drink at your sister’s wedding and can’t understand how or why Choi Seungcheol of all people is assigned to babysit you.

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ice cold, cabin fever by @smileysuh

Pairing: Seungcheol & Mingyu x afab!Reader

Rating: 18+ explicit

Wordcount: 25.9k

AU's: e2l, s2l, step brothers Jihan, non idol, ski resort, roomies, etc...

Warnings: threesome, daddy issues, mean/tsundere cheol, wet dreams, spanking, marking, dirty talk, choking, unprotected sex, pain kink, dacryphilia, breast play, praise, degradation, fingering, oral, hand job, blow job, multiple orgasms, overstim, edging, orgasm denial, manhandling, size kink, cumplay, finger sucking, spit roasting, hair pulling, voyeurism, | petnames: (hers) princess, bitch, whore, baby (s.coups) cheol, douche, dick, daddy (mingyu) gyu.

Summary/Preview: "come on, let’s just go back to snakes and ladders and you can pretend we’re not snowed in with no firewood and a dude you hate locked in the bathroom."

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inflection point series by @lovelyhan

Pairing: jeonghan x reader x seungcheol

Wordcount: 6.3k + 8.3k + 7.6k

Tags: unresolved emotional tension, friends to lovers on the hannie side of things, lovers to exes to enemies to lovers again on the cheol side of things, established relationship, angst, smut

Warnings: | pt.2 : implied alcohol consumption, graphic sexual content (minors dni!!) | pt.3 : graphic sexual content (minors dni!!)

Summary: you love yoon jeonghan. no, scratch that. you fucking adore yoon jeonghan; so much that the moment he asks you to be in an exclusive set-up with his current partner, you accept the offer in a heartbeat. what you fail to consider, however, is who your boss’ boyfriend actually is.

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Bite That Lip | One-Shot (Seungcheol) by @beahae

Pairings: Seungcheol/S.Coups x Reader(f)

Rating/genre: M18+, friends-with-benefits to ???; smut 💖, mild angst/fluff

Word Count: 6.3k

Warnings: Explicit smut, unprotected vaginal penetration, spanking, dom!Cheol and sub!reader, finger sucking, Cheol and Mingyu both lift and carry reader, reader wears workout clothes (sports bra, leggings), sorta sweaty sex, creampie, degradation, kind of breeding kink (depends what you consider a breeding kink to be), reader is referred to as ‘brat’ and ‘a hole’, pet name ‘baby’, begging, possessiveness/jealousy but it’s like hot and not crazy in my opinion, reader is a tease and brat but only before the smut lol

Summary: Seungcheol knows you're really close with his whole friend group. But now that things have... quietly been developing between the two of you, he would love it if you'd cool it with the heavy flirting with the other guys.

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in the eye of the beholder by @cheolism

Pairing: choi seungcheol x fem!reader

Wordcount: 6.2k

Tags: boyfriend!cheol, dom!cheol, possessive cheol. wall sex, fingering, oral; unprotected sex. worshipful sex. cheol's crude mouth, dirty talk. crying during sex from pleasure, mating press, spitting, hair pulling, consensual choking (just a little). pet names (princess, baby, sweetheart, angel, pretty girl, beautiful). simp seungcheol, his real spending addiction. he's going to tell you you're beautiful until you believe it.

Warnings: MDNI. fat/chubby!reader, insecurity, internalized fatphobia, anxiety. mentions of fatness, stretchmarks, love handles.

Summary: when you don't like how you look in the mirror, your boyfriend decides to take it upon himself to worship you.

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F*ck, Marry, Kill: With the Experienced by @bitchlessdino

Pairing: fem!reader x ex!mingyu x seungcheol x wonwoo

Genre: smut

Wordcount: 5.6k

Tags: poly, exhibitionism, voyeurism, degradation, pet names (princess), unprotected sex (except cheol), praise kink, spanking, clit slapping, fingering, oral (rec. and giving), u, pussy slapping, ass play, triple penetration

Summary: one dumb party game makes a comeback.

[watatsumiis]

Snuggle series - Dottore edition

Feeling like shit tn i just want to snuggle with dottore >:c

(some silly self indulgent hcs below the cut)

gender neutral reader, can probably be read as platonic but it's fairly on the physically affectionate side.

Listen. Dottore is a very much 'has to keep moving' sort of guy, he gets antsy when he's not stimulated enough - he needs something to do, whether that be actively working on experiments or observing/researching stuff. Maybe he has his own hacked version of an Akasha terminal that stores all his research information and that he can add to on the fly just to keep his brain occupied.

If you approach him and ask for cuddles, his first questions are always "why?" and "to what end?". He's a very curious person and lives to find out more information about everything, especially you. Eventually, after some prodding, he'll find you both a comfortable spot to sit and pat his thigh invitingly, allowing you to sit in whatever position you like.

In this scenario, you sit down sideways in his lap, leaning your head on his shoulder, just about pushing your face into his neck. He's... not a particularly comfortable candidate to sit with, there's several bony bits poking into you (including but not limited to his hips, shoulders, collarbone and thighbones).

Dottore smells like a science experiment gone wrong - some strong chemical smells mixed together, the hint of hydrogen peroxide burns your nose. It makes you a little lightheaded, but if you weren't willing to put up with it, you wouldn't have come to him.

He won't admit it but he actually quite likes the pressure of someone sitting on him - it compresses his sympathetic nervous system in that way that's entirely perfect, and you hear him let out a quietly relieved sigh as you settle.

If he's feeling particularly tender, he might wrap his arms around you, pushing slender, gloved fingers against the small of your back, rubbing up and down in a manner that isn't too dissimilar to someone carving wood. He seems to know exactly where to press to make all the tension in your body disappear, even occasionally reaching up to massage the nape of your neck. He barely even thinks about what he's doing, it's like instinct to him, the way he prods at all the sore, stiff parts of you until you begin to ease up and melt into him.

Though perhaps falling asleep around Dottore isn't the greatest idea, it's nigh on impossible not to doze when he's got you here like this. Whatever he's working on at the moment is pretty quiet - the only sounds you can hear are his pen tapping on the paper and the gentle noise of your synchronised breathing (Dottore will brightly inform you later on that it's a common phenomenon that occurs when two people who are emotionally close to one another make prolonged physical contact).

Dottore is more than happy to let you doze for as long as you feel like it - it's not like he has anywhere to be for a fair while. He continues his work (which is probably just a large amount of observations about you) and just... lets you do your thing. Even if somebody else were to enter his lab (which they're mostly forbidden from, but there's always a chance someone will disregard the warnings), he would go out of his way to make sure you're not disturbed - that would ruin the results he's collecting, after all.

Overall, he's a pretty good person to snuggle with in the grand scheme of things, at least for a little while. He also gives great massages (provided you're fine with him keeping detailed notes on you).

Please don't repost, steal, copy or otherwise plagarise my writing!

[mitziholder]

I find your thoughts on fandom interesting, and in general, I'm really glad to see more discussion of the bad shit fandom can/is doing to young women in radblr spaces. But I mean this as an honest question: Why do you consider fandom not challenging writers/readers such a problem? These aren't professional writing spaces, and the vast majority of fanfic writers don't intend to go into them. Does an artistic hobby *need* to challenge its participants to be worthwhile? I mean this all really genuinely, especially as someone who *does* work in the arts and *does* actively want work that challenges me, and has traditionally prided herself on it -- are these inherent moral goods? Am I a reasonable standard to expect of other people? Is engaging with boundary-pushing art a requirement of healthy maturity? Why? Is, say, a human rights lawyer who spends her free time watching trashy reality shows blighted, somehow, by that fact? What about a cashier who watches the same stuff because she's genuinely not interested in anything else? And, given the vast majority of readers of actual books basically read the way fanfic-only readers read -- the same genres, which use well-worn tropes -- do we think fandom is actually keeping its participants from more worthwhile experiences? (I suspect you might argue this is dumbing down the publishing industry, which I would really disagree with, as someone in publishing -- I know we can all point to Ali Hazelwood or a million YA books that advertise with tropes, but I really can't emphasize enough that this has been the case since modern publishing began, and I think pinning "so-so prose that's The Same Old Shit" on the current young female writer cohort borders on sexism, tbh.) I've been thinking about these questions a lot lately, and I just don't know the answers. My gut wants to say yes, it's good to present challenging work to people, especially women, because art is a key part of the human experience, and can effect all sorts of societal things. But also ... I know very little about the environment, including my immediate natural environment, and if I'm honest, I'm not really inclined to learn. I'm sure learning about it would effect all sorts of change in my life and concept of self. But I'm probably not going to do it because I have a limited amount of time and I'd rather give it to other things. Is that better or worse than engaging with challenging art? Is it better or worse to be me than the woman reading the same old tropey fanfic in her free time? I think what I WOULD argue is that, specifically, fandom as it is reinforces patriarchy and induces a lot self-destruction and alienation in young women, with particularly vile effects on young lesbians, autistic women, etc. But if it didn't do that....would I still have a problem with it? I don't know. But it's interesting as hell to think about, and I'd love your thoughts on it.

hello nona :-) many interesting points, much to consider

>Does an artistic hobby need to challenge its participants to be worthwhile?

no. I’m sure there are plenty of people who enjoy crochet or knitting or something like that for the sake of it or to de-stress. I’m sure there are also plenty of people who write and draw for the sake of it with little interest in grinding for improvement. that’s fine. the problem is when you have people who replace reading and personal edification with endless fluff + pointless indulgence.

reading... things... that are above your level, that actually make you think, is how you increase your vocabulary, your linguistic competence, your critical thinking skills, your ability to express yourself. difficult and complex texts present you with opportunities to broaden your perspective. they stimulate your mind, present you with new ideas; they can help you grow as a person in ways that the Same Old Shit simply won’t/can’t. it would be like benching the bar every day for 10 years straight and expecting to get stronger... I presume. I don’t lift weights.

as I said previously, I don’t think fanfic is going to destroy your brain, but if you read nothing but fanfic, that is on the same level as (or maybe worse than) reading nothing at all. of course I’m going to be critical of a community of people who humblebrag about how they can’t bring themselves to read 25 pages of literature in an academic (non yaoitastic) context.

ya ya it’s a joke they’re joking very funny, but do you see people of other creative pursuits or hobbies joking about how they can’t bring themselves to focus on a piece of actual literature or nonfiction? how they have zero interest in anything outside of anime boys kissing each other? it’s a sign of intellectual stagnation (and eventual regression imo).

I watch a lot of shitty youtube videos, but I acknowledge that they are basically a waste of my time. meanwhile you have post after post singing the praises of how culturally important and worthy of respect Our Beloved Fic Writers are in spite of the fact that their work is, by and large, completely self-indulgent shit! there’s just so much potential that isn’t being tapped into & so much complacency... it’s very frustrating to me. I find it dishonest. red white and royal blue is not going to change the world... lol

for the record, yes, you are right, lots of Real book-readers also read mostly self-indulgent shit. genre fiction is far more popular than anything else... and I don’t care for booktok either. in fairness, literary fiction isn’t always good, and I’m sure there were many women who read nothing but terrible pulp novels 70 years ago too. that doesn’t make fandom any better! not to say this is all women’s fault - I just have zero frame of reference for how “cultured” men may or may not be, and I don’t really care either way. I focus on fandom girlies because they’re what I know, & I want women to be... better, or at least more interesting. this is, of course, sexist by definition. I hold myself and other women to higher standards. I will admit to that. I’ll also admit to the fact that I do not care about men or what they are writing or reading and would not give a shit if they all became illiterate thoughtless slugs. it is what it is.

truthfully, I have no interest in moralizing any of this. I just find it depressing! it’s resulting in more and more women who cannot relate to and have zero interest in anything outside of the narrowly defined fanfic bubble - so, more and more women who can’t relate to me or what I care about. I’m selfish, and I think it’s unfortunate that there are so many young female writers clearly capable of writing something interesting who nevertheless restrict themselves to lowest common denominator coombrained garbage because it’s what’s easy and popular.

do we have a responsibility to pester random strangers about their amateur fanfic? naw. who has the time? all I know is that conversations I’ve had with my female friends about our original works or other women’s writing have been vastly more substantial and enlightening than any argument about who tops or bottoms in supernatural... imo. in my opinion

re: the environment and social responsibility, I also have no interest in debating what matters are the most important and whether you have a personal, moral obligation to educate yourself about them. I recognize that we all have a limited amount of time and energy to dedicate to something which is admittedly fairly peripheral to most people’s everyday concerns (such as... paying the bills). then again, so is almost everything.

at the end of the day, I just think it is an awful shame that some women would - and they freely admit this - rather turn their brains off and do nothing, think about nothing, read the same shit over and over, watch the same shows over and over, draw and write the same things and dynamics over and over... than do anything else. anything different or thought-provoking or uncomfortable. it is a loss for the breadth and the depth of women’s contributions to culture as well as their empathy and intellectual curiosity.

obligatory food analogy: a little bit of junk food won’t kill you, but if that’s all you’re eating, you are probably not... doing... well

and that’s not even getting into the social contagion present within fandom re:mogai, relationships, and gender identity shit (which I would say probably has a lot to do with the underdeveloped critical thinking skills and worldviews of girls who read nothing but fanfiction). I would love to come back to that at some point, but I think this post is long enough, so I’ll just put a pin in it. there’s honestly an insane amount that I have to say about common talking points regarding the value of yaoi/fanfic (in terms of how they portray Marginalized Identities and Relationships and how it supposedly helps women navigate their own trauma through a proxy or some shit like that) oh god this is a horrible run-on .... that’s all for now! send post!

[writingjourney]

spring walk | cardinal copia x reader

summary: you’re not feeling your best, so copia takes you out on a little stroll

content: 1.4k words, gn!reader, tw anxiety, some short anxiety relief with copia and primo while I work on longer projects

thank you @sweatandwoe and @leezlelatch for beta-ing ♡♡

Masterlist – Ao3 Link

✦ ✧ ✦ 

After a cold, merciless winter, the gardens now undergo an explosion of color. With the snow almost fully melted apart from a few stubborn shadowy spots, hundreds of early bloomers decorate the flowerbeds and meadows all around the abbey and even the fields beyond. The sight is breathtaking – orange, purple and white crocuses are spread out in colorful clusters, specks of fresh green and white wherever grouplets of snowdrops decided to grow. The tulips have yet to show but you know Primo took great care in arranging the bulbs by color last year and once they bloom, they will demand every passerby’s attention.

You love this time of year when the early signs of spring slowly push back winter’s icy claws, making way for sunbeams and flower-scented gusts of wind. It should be the same this year. 

It should be. 

But you don’t feel anything.

The grey clouds of winter are still clinging to your very being, casting dark shadows upon anything you come across, no matter how lovely, no matter how beautiful. You cannot shake them off this time, no matter how hard you try. It’s not like you don’t have your happy moments, of course, but they’re tinged with sadness as well, stained by the fear of losing them; of losing who and what you love.

Upon hearing you’re feeling particularly tired today, Copia just grabbed your hand and dragged you outside – fresh air amore, it helps – leading you up the sun-bathed hill you’re now standing on, overlooking the grounds in their slow but steady re-awakening. You can feel the warmth of the sun, a mild breeze caressing your face, and you can even hear the birds chirping happily in the trees. But not even the most invigorating sensory stimulations can drown out the rapid beating of your heart as your anxiety overwhelms you. Your pulse echoes in your ears, thump thump thump thump. 

This is too good to be true, he is too good to be true.

“Are you okay?” Copia halts abruptly, and his hand in yours stops you with him. “Amore?”

You tear your gaze away from the flowers and focus on him, on his slender frame clad in the thick wool of his red cassock, another bright speck of color just like his face, all flushed from the wind – red nose, red cheeks, red ears. Your beautiful Cardinal.

“Yes,” you mumble, pointedly looking away. “I’m good, it’s nice out here.”

His hand leaves yours to wrap around your neck, slowly lifting your chin so you have to meet his gaze. When his thumb moves under your jaw, the leather of his gloves so soft and warm on your skin, he suddenly lets out an Oh. “Your pulse is going very fast, amore. What is it?”

You try to pull away, force a smile onto your face. “Nothing. I’m fine, just exhausted from walking.”

“You are anxious again, sì?”

Copia cannot be fooled, you should have known. He reads you like an open book, knows how to interpret every shift in your expression, every clench of your muscles, every change of tone in your voice. You must be radiating anxiety right now, all tense and nervous and teary-eyed.

“A little,” you admit, wringing your hands. “Are you mad that I didn’t tell you?”

He gently shakes his head. “No, amorino, but I wish this big heart of yours would beat so fast because of me and not because of that little demon inside your head, huh?”

“Don’t let the ghouls hear you,” you say, chuckling weakly.

Copia smiles, softly nuzzling your nose before he pecks your lips. “I love you, tesoro. You are my everything.”

Your heart swells, beating even faster now. “I love you too, my Cardinal.”

His hands move up your neck so they cradle your cheeks, intent mismatched eyes holding your gaze. “I want you to know that the one thing you never have to worry about is my love for you, eh? I know you do, you think maybe I get tired of you and all these mean things you told me before, blah blah blah, it is all very wrong, che sciocchezza! Because amore, my love for you is eternal, it is the only thing I am sure of and it only grows stronger every day. And one day you will see it and never doubt it again, sì?”

You smile through your tears and he leans in to give you another kiss and another, a whole series of sweet kisses that he soon starts peppering all over your face until you can’t help but giggle, one hand reaching out to cling to his cassock in support.

Copia breaks away, smiling in satisfaction. “Now come, I saw Papa in the greenhouse, we should say hi to him.”

His hands slide down your body until they find yours, grasping them and bringing them to his lips. He presses a few soft kisses to your knuckles with the most ridiculous and exaggerated kissy noises. He never fails to make you smile with those. Not even the worst anxiety can withstand the sweet love of your silly Cardinal. When he drops your hands, his fingers thread through yours without ever fully letting go, and he smiles brightly as he pulls you towards the greenhouse.

His happiness is catching, in a way, and you feel your anxiety slowly easing, especially when you finally spot Primo, tending to the most beautiful daffodils you’ve ever seen. Their sun-facing blossoms draw a bright yellow line all the way around the greenhouse and the still mostly empty beds surrounding it. You’ve never seen so many of them before.

Copia approaches carefully to avoid startling him. “Buon pomeriggio, Papa. Come stai?”

“Ah, il Cardinale and his amore.” Primo smiles, closing his garden scissors. “ I am well, grazie. And you are out for a stroll?”

“We are. My tesoro needed some fresh air.” Copia gives Primo a tight-lipped, wide-eyed look without any attempt at subtlety and the older Papa knows exactly what your love is trying to tell him, considering he’s familiar with your mental health struggles. Ever since being with Copia, the Papas have adopted you as well, especially Primo with his caring nature.

“You stay here with me for a while, eh, Cardinale?” He gestures towards a small seating area right next to the garden shed that he uses for storage and… whatever sorcery he’s doing in there. “I made a new tea blend, very calming, good for the nerves, with balm and camomile and some… secret ingredients.” 

Primo flashes you a smile before disappearing in the shed and you can’t help but feel so very loved as you plop down on a wooden garden bench facing the sun. One of the windows to the greenhouse right beside you stands slightly open and for a brief moment, you close your eyes and let the scents of Primo’s herb garden surround you. It’s an intoxicating mixture of aromas, almost dizzying in their intensity, and you wonder how potent some of these pollen are.

Copia sits down beside you, one arm wrapped around your shoulder to pull you close. “How are you feeling now, my baby?”

You snuggle into him, humming softly as his familiar scent hits your nose. “A little better, thank you, my love.”

His lips softly press to your hair and you close your eyes again for a few precious minutes. When Primo comes back carrying a tray with three steaming mugs of tea, Copia gently rouses you. You accept one, the overwhelming herbal smell already making you feel a lot calmer, and watch as Copia adds two heaps of sugar to his.

Primo playfully rolls his eyes, mostly for your entertainment, which earns a genuine smile from you. He sits down on a chair beside Copia. “So, Cardinale, should we talk about my plans for the spring equinox? I think I may need a bit more budget for seeds.”

They fall into easy conversation, none of the topics concerning you, but the background noise is very welcome as it drowns out your own unpleasant thoughts. And so you sit there among the flowers, listening to the two men talk about seeds and budgets, their soothing voices slowly but surely untying the nervous knot in your belly. It doesn’t take long until you feel more at ease and you could not be more grateful to have them in your life.

che sciocchezza – what nonsense