#your art is always so so so so so so SO GORG

[faerievampling]

An Unexpected Visitor

Summary: Ascended!Astarion and Tav have been together for thousands of years. One day, an unexpected visitor shows up, reminding them of their past and offering them a new adventure.

Word Count: 4k

Here's the link to AO3!

Pairing: (soft) Ascended!Astarion x Female Tav

Warning: 18+, Explicit. PiV. Oral Sex. Light bondage. Light dom/sub.

A/N: This is going to be a multi-chapter story I will be posting here and on AO3. Largely but not entirely based on my headcanons for Ascended!Astarion that you can read here: Part 1. Part 2. (Not necessary to read first!!)

I hope you enjoy!

You wake up with a strong sense of unease. Astarion, your creator and husband, picks up on it immediately, of course. The two of you are so profoundly connected, your minds nestled together; he knows that you do not know the ‘why’ for these feelings.

Astarion kisses and cuddles you good morning, as he always does, but he holds you a bit longer this time, not wanting to get out of bed with his consort feeling this way. His hold on you is tight as he buries his nose in your hair.

Alas, Astarion has work to do, including ensuring the protection of his territories and assets, especially at a time like this.

The war, my darling. The war. Astarion reminds you again. You hadn’t been affected by it at all, and didn't really care. And Astarion really didn’t care that you didn’t care. He only wanted your happiness and wellbeing, and had worked hard to keep you away from it all.

But he feared that maybe you could sense it, or were beginning to. His weariness, his stress; those feelings he did his best to guard you from. 

Astarion cradled you to his chest, one arm on your naked back and the other nestled in the root of your hair, giving you gentle massages as you listen to the thump of his ever-beating heart. After a while, Astarion repositions the two of you so that he may offer his neck to you. He knows this is your (second) favorite place to feed, because you can feel the beat of his heart and drink in his scent.

He also knows you’d rather like to feed from the inside of his thigh, but now was not the time for that. Well, maybe it was, but the two of you were already late for court.

As you sup of his blood, you moan with pleasure - there is nothing better to a bride than the blood of her creator, and Astarion was a very generous master. 

“Your master adores you, my little darling,” Astarion whispers in your ear as you feed, his hand moving to caress the back of your head. His teasing words cause you to grind into his hips, and you can feel him beginning to get hard. 

“Enough, my pet,” Astarion says as he pulls you away, detaching your fangs from his ivory skin. As he meets your gaze, the memories of your days of madness wash over him like the shock of ice cold water. 

Long ago, Astarion insisted you feed on him and only him. There was danger in this, a bride feeding too much from her Master. This, Astarion knew, but his mind was shrouded with paranoia. 

In another land, one of the brides of vampire master Geldon Moth was poisoned and killed. Once Astarion heard the news, he came to a quick decision. 

Believing his blood to be the safest for you, you were to feed on him and only on him. After months of letting you gorge, Astarion saw the bridal madness for the first time. 

Astarion is quick to push the memory away. Before he does, you catch a glimpse of the scene: you’re inconsolable, starving, horny as a bitch in heat, and as violent as ever. Astarion is crying, begging you to come back to yourself. 

Astarion no longer remains your only food source. He is your primary one, indeed, but the essence of others is to be drunk from a goblet, not from lips to skin. That is reserved for you and your creator. 

Thou art mine. A thought rings in your head.

You help Astarion dress, as you have for the past…so many years. Astarion dismissed his footman so long ago, preferring to do the work himself with the help of his consort. His aversion to touch, anyone’s but your own, was an ever-growing symptom of the choices the both of you made so long ago.

Astarion plants a tender kiss on your lips before he goes, and your own maid comes in to help you dress and take care of your hair. She wants to put it in an updo of some kind, so that you match with the other ladies of the court. 

But you’ve been feeling rather rebellious, and Astarion sat on the throne, so you could do whatever you wanted. And so you did.

You keep it long, like a curtain, and now that Astarion had finally moved on from his insistence that you wear something low cut, you choose a dress that is modest, comfortable, but regal enough. You ditch the shoes. You’ve been alive for nearly two millenniums. You know your beauty is already unmatched, and you needn’t worry yourself with discomfort. Your feet rarely touch the floor, anyways. 

But your current maid doesn’t seem to agree, and always argues with you about the fucking shoes. Before she even begins, you hiss at her.

This maid, Bethild, is one you’ve had for a while now. First joining your service as a young woman, Bethild was now rather old and round, you think. She tuts at you for hissing before crossing her arms, ready to give you a lecture. 

“It’s not befitting of a Lady in your position to be hissing,” Bethild addressed you in ways others would die for, but you rather liked her, and Astarion did too.

But before she could continue, you use your vampiric telepathy to force your way in. THE DRESS IS LONG ENOUGH. NOBODY WILL SEE. You scream this into her mind, trying to cause her a bit of pain, maybe some nausea.

Bethild knows when she’s lost a battle, and she murmurs something about your Master hearing about this as she bumbles her way out of your room.

You roll your eyes at her as she leaves. Why must we do this everyday? You reach out to your husband. But he doesn’t immediately respond, because he already knows your grief: it is simply becoming increasingly difficult for you to tolerate mortals.

We can get you a new maid, my consort. Or we can get rid of them all together. Whatever it is you want, it will be yours. Astarion reaching into your mind is always comfortable, and the contact sends a shiver to your core.

You didn’t understand how Astarion could handle it so well. So much better than you. You were thankful that he could, of course, but you just didn’t understand. 

You’re perfect the way you are, my consort. You don’t need to be like me. You are mine, and I will always take care of you.

Once you’re ready, you float to your throne, making a bit of a scene because of your tardiness. Astarion doesn’t care; the subjects can wait, especially for you.

As you take your seat, Astarion holds your hand, idly (and a bit anxiously) playing with your fingers as he handles business. He likes to look at them as he mulls over the proceedings in his mind; he plays with your rings, twisting them around your fingers and sometimes switching them between digits. Every day, he looks forward to seeing what choice of jewelry you will make. It makes him feel tremendous pride to see the beauty of your soft and smooth hands, and to see the decadent jewels on your pretty fingers.

Whatever business Astarion is handling today is, frankly, totally lost on you. If something important happens, something you need to know, Astarion will tell you. 

So, you lose yourself in the folds of you and your eternal lover’s mind. You always enter this vampiric trance during court. You needn’t speak, because you trust your beloved creator to speak for you. 

After a few hours and a few dealings later, something briskly breaks you out of this trance. That unease. 

Astarion squeezes your hand to draw your attention to him. You meet his gaze, and you see a lot there: love, need, possession, inquiry, frustration. You’re having a hard time parsing through it, but what you gather is you are making Astarion extremely uncomfortable. 

We’re almost done here. After court, you will be sequestered away until I know you are safe. Is all he communicates with you.

It’s just a sense of unease, my love. Please just stay with me, you are all the protection I need. Don’t lock me away. You are practically begging at this point, but your face gives nothing away. You are dampened by your curse. Rather it be the vampiric curse or the curse of time, you aren’t sure. You are still you, but your light shines dimmer.

Astarion narrows his eyes at you. Your foresight has been right before. 

You shake your head at him. Now, you’re both starting to lose your poker faces. The mortals murmur around you, but the two of you exist only with each other at this moment, and the rest of the world is diminished. 

This is different. It’s just a feeling, nothing more. I’ve had no visions, Master. You call him this to soften him up; it makes Astarion’s cock twitch just to hear you say the word. 

As Astarion’s thoughts turn lewd, a servant approaches him, informing him of the next visitor to be heard. You feel Astarion’s mind slip away from yours as he focuses on the world around him. 

But the words of the servant are tumbling around in his head. Scary, strange looking elf. 

What? You ask, probing into Astarion’s mind.

He looks over to you, his handsome features and lustful eyes (he’s still having some lewd thoughts) causes your breath to catch and sends your second heartbeat to race. He said the visitor knew us, and was a terrifying, strange looking elf.

A picture has already formed in Astarion’s mind of a strange green egg that was briefly in your possession during your adventuring days. Still holding each other’s gaze, you both silently acknowledge that the ‘strange elf’ is in fact, not an elf. 

The two of you further slip into each other's minds, a feeling so familiar by now yet no less pleasurable. The folds of your waking mind are fondled by his, and as he is weaving through you, he finds a memory he cannot ignore: that pretty clearing. His own version of the memory rises within him, meeting yours halfway. He is focused on that first kiss, that first taste of you, your folds, the taste of your sweat…

You can’t help but smile as you hear Astarion’s heart racing. The passage of time is cruel and has taken many things from you and Astarion both. But neither of you could ever forget that first night.

Focus, my lover. You poke at him. 

Astarion smirks. It must be a githyanki. We fought many of them, remember, little love?

You remember, only vaguely. Astarion’s memory was much sharper than yours, due to his ascended state. 

Deciding to give it no more thought, you drift off into your trance again, and Astarion lets you. You needn’t care about this mysterious visitor; you had other things to worry about, like drinking blood, striking fear into the hearts of mortals, and how you were going to convince your darling husband to get on his knees and put his pretty lips on your glistening, swollen sex later tonight.

You glance at Astarion as he’s listening to one of the servants. You focus on his pretty lips, and how perfect they look around your nipple, or your clit.

You think you’ll start by wearing a low cut dress to dinner - yes, that would be the right move. He wouldn’t be able to keep his eyes off the plush curve of your breasts, especially if you could manage to wear a corset. You’re also thinking you’ll skip the panties, because surely you can goad him into putting a hand up your skirts. Maybe you’ll invite him to feed on your inner thigh; he loves that tender spot so much, he likely wouldn't be able to help himself to having a taste of you —

“I see your union has stood the test of time,” The sound of the woman’s voice snaps you back into the present with a whirl. You know her voice. You know her face, even: pretty, green skin, orange hair, she even looks rather young, still. 

“It is good to see you both. You look….well.” The githyanki says. She is wearing armor, and has a long sword sheathed on her back. She looks at you uneasily, but you see a fondness in her eyes and a comfortable sense of familiarity.

Lae’zel. Astarion tells you. She was once your lover. You can feel Astarion seething at the reminder that once, you were not his. You don’t really know how to respond to him, because you do remember your time with Lae’zel, but it was so long ago it is literally ancient history.

You knit your brows together as you take her in. Her coming must be that feeling of unease. And Astarion tells you as much as he converses with Lae’zel. She wants something, he tells you. Despite his broiling jealousy, Astarion keeps a cordial, straight face as he converses with Lae’zel. 

She has been in the Astral Plane, a place outside of time and space, fighting a seemingly never ending war with Vlaakith. And she has come to her only living allies on the mortal plane, the Ancunins, for help.

Lae’zel and Astarion come to an agreement for a private meeting on the morrow. Astarion’s emotions are all over the place; he ends court early, deciding to sequester you to the bedchamber early.

As he marches you to the boudoir, hand on your wrist as you’re barely keeping up with him, Astarion is stopped by a servant. Whatever message Astarion receives leaves him feeling desperate - his mind was disarranged, his face twisted in grief.

Parsing through his mind, you can’t even manage to make out a few words - whatever has happened, Astarion is either hiding it from you or still trying to process it himself. Likely a bit of both, you decide.

But once the two of you reach your bed chambers, he becomes a single minded man.

Astarion grabs both of your wrists with one hand and has you bent over the bed before you can even register your own movement. With his other hand, he is pushing up your skirts, finding his way to your naked sex. 

“How ignorant of me to believe all of your past lovers were dead,” His voice escapes through gritted teeth, low and raspy. Astarion maneuvers you on the bed so that you are now on your knees with your ass in the air, hands still being held behind your back. With no way to support yourself, your head rests on the bed. 

So much for your plan of getting Astarion on his knees for you.

Astarion’s grip on your wrists tighten as his other hand grazes your exposed labia, caressing the lips of your cunt with his dexterous fingers before sliding a finger inside of you until he is knuckle deep.

“Do you remember your time with her, my consort?” The sensation of his finger being dragged against your slick, spongy walls send you rolling your hips into his hand, desperate for more.

Yes, you think desperately, even though he already knows the answer. He’s surely searched your mind already, probably long ago. 

“Say it. Use your words,” His tone is harsh, but his fingers gentle as he slides another into you with little resistance. 

“Yes, I remember,” You say, the words feeling odd in your mouth. You realized you hadn’t spoken aloud in quite a while.

Astarion lets go of your hands and brings his arm around your front, a hand gripping your neck and bringing you upright, so that your back is to his chest. His two fingers are still buried inside you. 

“I am forever yours, Astarion,” His grip on your neck is gentle, and you’re able to turn your head to look at him. His ruby eyes bore into you, such a perfect reflection of your own. 

His own eyes are pleading. Tell me. Please.

You brace yourself. Not because you don’t mean it, but because you know you will never hear the reciprocation spoken aloud.

“I love you, Astarion,” You supplicate.

His eyes are wet, just for a moment, and then his lips crash into yours, his hand trailing up to grab your jaw, to guide you to him. He relinquishes you from his fingers and quickly removes his clothing, not wasting any time to put himself between your legs. 

Your dress is long gone by the time Astarion lines his cock up with your entrance, eyes locked with yours in an intense gaze. 

“Say it again. For your Master, spawn,” He growls. You knew this was merely just a part he wanted you to play sometimes, but it hurt all the same. He knew this. But he needed this from you.

“I love you eternally, Master,” You speak with a soft voice barely above a whisper as Astarion rubs his swollen tip against your puffy folds.

His ruby eyes bore into you as he pushes into you slowly; a moan escaping his pretty lips once he’s bottomed out, balls deep inside of you. He leans over and plants a kiss on your forehead before meeting your gaze again.

“You are my everything, Tav.” His voice is raw, and this is all he can manage before his lips meet yours again. You clench around his cock as he begins to set a slow, steady pace. 

That tiny longing inside of you vanishes, and you know that you are his everything. You tangle your hand in his hair and deepen your kisses; Astarion whimpers at this, and when he quickened his pace, your cunt is making lewd, squelching noises at the power of his thrusts.

“Gods above,“ Astarion breathes against your lips. He begins to play with you, adjusting his pace until he finds the perfect rhythm to exuberate the lewd sounds of your desperation.

Bringing himself upright, Astarion watches you; your lips are parted, showing off your beautiful fangs, which he loves so much. He admires your smooth, unmarred skin, as he was careful not to leave any scars on your body. Sure, he had wanted to permanently mark you, but he thought it cruel and pointless: you are his, and nothing will ever change that.

As Astarion slides his cock along your walls, you can’t help but clench around him as you eye your gorgeous husband.

Astarion’s beauty was that of literal legends; as you eye his disheveled curls, the cut of his muscles and jaw, and you know that every ballad, every poem, every story of the beauty of Astarion the Decadent, Hero of Baldur’s Gate, is true. 

Astarion needs to taste you now, and he slowly pulls his cock out from your desperate cunt, causing you to whimper from the loss. Astarion lowers himself between your legs before examining your sex.

“I’ve made a sloppy little mess of you, haven’t I?” Astarion smirks at you, his pupils blown with lust. With his fingers, he spreads your folds, eyeing you as your anticipation grows. He swipes his tongue from your entrance to your clit before he wraps his lips around your swollen, glistening clit and begins to suck; his tongue is so soft, so gentle, and the steady circles he is making with his tongue have you trembling beneath him.

“Perfect…” He murmurs against your sex, the vibration of his silky voice causing you to whimper. “You’re so…” He can’t even finish his sentence as he begins to devour you, and he is desperate to taste you as you come. He has you screaming his name in mere seconds, and you are putty in his hands as he brings himself back up to his knees and rams his cock in you.

You’re so wet, and to your surprise, Astarion inserts two fingers inside you along with his cock; the stretch makes you groan, and he smiles wildly as his other hand grasps your jaw, pulling your head aside to expose your neck to him.

Mine. Mine. Mine. To do with as I please. Body, blood, and soul. You’re mine to fuck, to stretch out, to eat, to use, and you can never leave me. This scares you, but you can’t deny your increasing wetness for him. And you can’t deny the truth of his words.

Astarion slides his fangs into you, making you shudder as he moans loudly; he is so deep inside you, you can feel his swollen tip hitting your cervix, and you claw at his scalp and his back as he drinks you in.

After just a few sips, Astarion is coming undone, and his arms are around you now, holding you so tightly to him that you can’t breathe. You can feel his balls contracting against the curve of your ass as he spills his seed inside you. He trails mindless kisses on your skin as he comes down from the high of his orgasm.

He holds you to him for a while, cock still inside of you, and you can feel the decreasing thump of his heart against your chest. Eventually, he rolls over, and when you’re released from his cock, you feel his seed spilling out of you, dripping down your slick folds and pooling at your pert asshole. 

“I’m going to commission a painting of you, just like this.” He says as he examines the damage. “I’d have to gouge their eyes out after, of course.”

Of course. You reach out in agreement with a smile on your face.

“Speak, my darling. I want to hear your pretty voice.” Astarion gathers you between his legs, your back to his chest as he wraps his arms around you and cradles you to him. He’s still trailing kisses wherever he can: your neck, your shoulder, your cheek, your ear.

“Sorry. Habit.” It was a habit, but nowadays, it was more of a preference.

“You needn’t apologize, lover,” Astarion rests his head on your shoulder, breathing in the scent of your skin. “I’d like you to attend the meeting with Lae’zel with me.”

You needn’t be anywhere but right by my side. Lord Moth’s estate was attacked again. A few of his spawn were killed.

Well, that is far better than being locked in the boudoir, you think. “Of course I’ll come with you.” 

After a moment, you speak again. “I can’t believe she’s still alive. I thought all our past friends were dead.”

“Me too. From what I can recall about Lae’zel, it was ignorant of us to think that woman could ever die.” The two of you giggle as you reminisce on old adventures, the ones Astarion is willing to dwell on, to enjoy. 

Astarion doesn’t mention his jealous feelings about Lae’zel’s sudden reappearance, but you feel it in his actions as the two of you spend the rest of the day in bed; he takes you again, biting you in places he had never before, coming in every hole of yours that he could, until you were well and truly taken and used.

Eventually, the two of you drift off in each other's arms, as you always did. But your lasting thoughts are not on blood, fear, or Astarion’s cock (well maybe a little bit), but on the ‘why’ of Lae’zel’s return. Astarion shares in your anxiety, but assures you to be patient, as all will be revealed on the morrow. 

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5. Chapter 6.

Masterlist

[queercoshon]

I wrote another thing! This one has been in the works for a while. It is also posted on my deviantart. It's a little bit softer than the usual content I post. As always, please feel free to leave suggestions/ideas

‐------------

When I first moved into your spare room, I was definitely on the smaller side. Adult life had bulldozed me, and I learned quick meals and protein bars were the easiest way for me to eat. If I had to make something more complicated, chances are I would just forget to eat entirely.

You, on the other hand, loved to cook, bake, and create different cocktails. Every overindulgence in the past few years showed on your body, curves cascading down your back and flaring at your hips, and your belly often hanging over the waistband of your pants.

You quickly picked up on my food habits, and were quite frankly appalled.

"How can you not love food? Every flavour, every texture? Food is art to me. Have you had good food before?"

I shrugged, because, no, not really. My experience with food thus far had been boxed pastas, cans of soups and chilis, whatever frozen meals were on sale, and various boxed snacks. Eating them didn't bring me a fraction of the joy you got just from talking about food.

Thus began your mission of making me fall in love with at least one dish.

You really could have stopped at the first dish. The leek and potato stew blew my mind. I had never had leeks and found potatoes flavourless mush. But somehow you managed to make such mundane ingredients into a symphonious dish, tastes layering over one another. I could not get enough. The warmth spread from my stomach to encompass my body, and in my cozy bliss I just kept eating, chasing the high of this delectable experience.

I had eaten so much my stomach didn't even slosh when I painstakenly got up from the table.

Your first success spurred you into overdrive. You sought different flavour profiles and combinations, testing to see which ones would make me melt. Most of them did.

Most days I was coming home to the scent of dinner leading me down the hall, with an underlying sweetness hinting at dessert.

You tried a wide range of cuisines. Pot pies, various proteins with rice and veggies, curries from all around the world, and so many different types of pasta. Desserts include cobblers, doughnuts, pies, cakes, and a variety of pastries. I could not believe how much flavour was in everything, and was desperate to get as much of it as possible. Every meal ended with me breathing shallowly, hand caressing my overburdened gut, and you with a satisfied smirk on your face.

With your increase in cooking came your increase in eating. Slowly your body started to billow outward, filling out all your clothes, finally forcing you to look at specialty stores to restock.

My weight gain was not so slow. My body was so used to running on minimal to average calories, it didn't know what to do with the sudden influx, now having to process at least twice what I used to eat in a day.

The first place it was noticable was my gut. It only took a week or two before I had a cute little pot belly. It would push open the buttons on my shirt, and cause issues when buttoning my pants. The rest of my body followed suit. My thighs and ass started to swell, my arms felt constricted in my t-shirts, and a double chin was quickly noticable. I barely noticed. I was so caught up in a whirlwind of culinary pleasure that I paid no mind to my tightening waistbands and my gut starting to peak out of my shirt.

Soon you started cooking breakfast, too. The table would be covered in food, from pancakes to bacon, hashbrowns to quiche. Each day there was something different, and each day I gorged until nearly comatose.

Eating like this every day rapidly changed my body, I had put on 100lbs in 11 months, from the first time you made that stew. I had upgraded my wardrobe 4 times, and was needing to again soon.

And then is was December. The month of overindulgence. Holiday parties every weekend. Potlucks, cocktail parties, hearty meals, sometimes multiple events in the same day.

This was the first time I truly appreciated food; the tastes, the textures, and the stories behind each dish. I tried everything, and then I tried everything again. Most nights I struggled to waddle from the car to my bed. On the rare occasions I wasn't fit to burst, you sat me down on the couch and made me try your creations for the next party. On those nights, I was bound to pass out in the living room, eyes glazed over, gut too stuffed to think about getting up.

Despite all the socializing and gatherings, Christmas day was quiet, just the two of us. I didn't want to fly across the country to see my few relatives, and you were going to do a late holiday dinner with your family at the end of January, when work slowed down for your parents.

I received two sets of pajamas that year. One from you, plaid pants and a red flannel top. It was a little big, but we both knew that wouldn't be the case for long. The other pair I got was from a childhood friend I hadn't seen in person in over 2 years. The pants were baby blue with snowflakes, and the tank top had a cheesy graphic and the phrase "Let it Snow!"

When you went to go work on the feast planned for the day, I tried the second pair of pajamas on. Despite being incredibly stretchy, I could barely get the pants past my thighs. My ass was hanging out the back, and the drawstrings were instantly lost in the waistband. The graphic on the shirt was horrendously distorted, and I could feel a breeze on the bottom of my belly. I was about to change back into the first pair of pjs when you called me for Christmas meal. My mind now only focused on one thing, I stopped what I was doing and lumbered to the table.

You called it Christmas Meal, because it was past noon, but well before dinner time. With the amount of food you made though, we could be there well into the night. There was the traditional fixings; turkey, stuffing, gravy, mashed potatoes, green beans, honey roasted carrots, sweet potato casserole, and dinner rolls, but you also added a baked ziti dish, homemade pizza rolls, and cottage pie. Bottles of wine, apple cider, and sparking water lined the middle of the table. There was enough food for 10 people, and we were just 2. I could smell desserts being baked to perfection in the other room.

"This looks amazing! I've never had anything like this. I'm sorry I couldn't help..."

You patted my stomach and laughed. "The only help I need is getting it all eaten. Load up and dig in!"

I piled my plate high with everything I could fit. It would take me at least 2 plates to try everything, probably 3 with the portion sizes I was taking. I looked over, and saw your plate faced the same overburdened fate as mine.

You ladled me a generous glass of mulled wine from the crock pot.

"Cheers!"

And then we fell into a frenzied silence, only the cacophony of two gluttons enjoying a sinfully indulgent feast, and the tv still playing Christmas special reruns in the other room made noise in our tiny apartment.

I still don't know how you did it, but every bite I took had me holding back a moan.

My family had attempted to make a turkey once in my life, and it resulted in a tasteless hunk of disappointment, the bird so dried out that the white meat was somehow pointy and sharp. The one you made was opposite to everything I expected. It was nearly falling apart in my mouth, the seasoning from the brine and rub made it to every bite. Different levels of flavours washed over me, and my eyes nearly rolled into the back of my head.

Every dish you made was like this. Some of them I had equally dismal expectations of, like the green beans, sweet potato casserole, mashed potatoes, and pizza rolls, all things my family had made sacrilege of once. Everything else I either hadn't had, or only had store bought. Even the best store bought ziti bake didn't come close to yours.

I was put into a trance. There was not a moment where I was still, constantly chewing, swallowing, and reaching for the next bite. Everything was washed down with copious amounts of wine and cider.

My shirt was pushed up by my rounding gut, bunched up under my chest by the end of the 3rd plate, my cheeks were warm, and every gurgle my belly let out just pushed me to eat more.

Your clothes had given up containing your belly. It sat naked on full display, hanging out of your defeated shirt, pushing your thighs apart as it sank further. You were absent-mindedly rubbing the crest of your gut as you shoved another role in your mouth. I poured the last of the 2nd bottle of wine in your glass, and popped open the 3rd to serve myself.

It wasn't until just after starting my 7th plate that I realised how overstuffed I was. It all hit me at once, the bottom of my belly itching as my skin stretched around my stomach swelling forward, my breathe shallow and pained, my lungs given no room to expand, pushing out a burp with every other gasp of air. I couldn't lean back without getting a stitch.

You were in a similar state. Hiccups jolting your body shaking out burps, your hands gingerly massaging your gut which was red and almost shiny.

I don't know how long we sat there, just rubbing our guts and moaning. There was still food left, but maybe enough for 1 averaged-sized meal for both of us. Everything else was crammed into our bellies.

Firmly drunk now, the sensation of rubbing my belly was sending sparks along all my nerves. Between that and riding the high of the first Christmas meal I had ever enjoyed, I was lost in my own little world of bliss.

A harsh timer bell going off in the kitchen jolted me out of my stupor, unleashing a string of burps and a new bout of hiccups. You groaned as you got up, supporting your back and belly like you were 9 months pregnant.

You looked at me with a wine-soaked grin.

"Ready for dessert?"

[pearlcigs]

⋆ mutuals

idea credit @valsthea

what color and song i associate with each of my moots + cute little messages (pls lmk if you want me to delete you off this list for any reason)

dm me if you wanna know why i associate you with your color and / or song ! :)) most songs only have 1 or 2 specific lyrics that i associate with a moot or just the melody but its okay

i only included moots from this acc incase the moots from @poionsedprose want nothing to do with me LMAO i didn't realize i had so many mutuals

ALPHABETICAL ORDER

𝐉𝐎 ( @abbysribbon ) : we've only just become moots but your art is so incredible ??!?! like you draw the characters so perfectly ?!?! im obsessed with your art !??!? i can't wait to get to know you more !!

𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 ( @ali3n00 ) : i guess i have to include you on this list ...

𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 ( @baumbii ) : we haven't really talked much but you seem so nice and cool ! your blog is so cute and you are also so gorg omg , your writing is also literally so good i love it sm , esppp your ellie fic ! wish we could talk more !!

𝐋𝐎𝐋𝐀 ( @coqvttes ) : i loveeee everything that you write sm and your blog aesthetic is acc so pretty ! i really really hope that you're doing better now , i'm so sorry that men are so gross to you , im so glad we're moots , we should def talk more !!

𝐌𝐀𝐗𝐈𝐍𝐄 ( @dizzyntrr ) : max my loveee, i love when your posts pop up on my dash, esp your mood boards !! your themes always eat, i love coming onto tumblr after waking up and seeing if you changed it yet :3 i also love your writing smm, i always reread your works

𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐍 ( @edensdahlia ) : love love love your account theme and your writing, your fics are so comfy like their vibe is just so good ! i love that you include both male reader and a female reader as a genderfluid fanfic consumer :))

𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐔𝐑 ( @fawnpires ) : first of all im so obsessed with your user, literal username genius, second i loveee your aesthetic it's so cool?? and also your writing oh my goddd , guilty pleasure fr ! i wish we talked more but you intimidate me (bc you're so cool)

𝐇𝐀𝐙𝐄𝐋 ( @fxllfaiiry ) : you were one of my first mutuals and i was so excited when you followed me back bc your writing is so good?!? we haven't really talked much but trust your blog means a lot to me + your themes always eat !

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐒 ( @heartmorgue ) : your reblogs are always so real , i have to fight the urge to reblog everything that you reblog LOL you seem so fun to just hang out to do nothing (does that make sense ???) like just watch a movie in silence or smth if yk?

𝐌𝐈𝐙 ( @hermizery ) : your blog theme is so cool / navigation , it's one of the reasons i followed you in the first place ! i love your leon fic sm you should def write more if you want to obvi but you're gen so talented

𝐋𝐔𝐍𝐀 ( @killuintense ) : i don't interact with a lot of your posts cause most of them are nsfw but i love your sfw work ! also your blog theme is super cool i love it , i love ada >.<

𝐊𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐒𝐋𝐔𝐕𝐑 ( @konigsluvr ) : you write konig so well ! your headcanons are always fun to read and i hope you post more in the future !! i like seeing your reblogs pop up on my dash cause some of your responses are so out of pocket they make me laugh

𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 ( @kxjbr ) : i wish we interacted more ! i loved the comments you would always leave on my tatta fics , they would always make me smile and it was one of the reasons why i kept witting for alice in borderland for so long :)) also i love your fics you deserve way more recognition

𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐀 ( @leemonsblog ) : maliaaa we don't really talk anymore but i cherish every one of the conversations we had , i love talking to you and although you don't know it , you helped me through some tough times and i appreciate you sm for that + your fics were peak and i love them sm still , i miss you 'n i hope you're doing well ml !!

𝐒𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐒 ( @lovers-rck ) : we're fairly new to being mutuals but i love your content sm ! your art is so good first of all , and second of all , your fics are so entertaining ! i can't wait to get to know you more !

𝐃𝐄𝐕 ( @loveheartarthur ) : im so fr you and your blog alone have convinced me to watch rdr , its on my list of games to watch :3 your blog is so pleasing to look at and i love the farmer's daughter aesthetic !! i wish we could talk more , you seem so cool

𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐍 ( @meravalemoi ) : i love your reblogs ! sometimes i'll just scroll through your blog at the end of the day when im super sleepy and just see what funny posts you reblogged :)

𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐈 ( @nadiasgf ) : we haven't really talked much but im glad we've had the few convos that we've had bc you're so easy to talk to (im just socially awkward) i'm so glad we became moots !!

𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋 ( @naivegh0ul ) : your ghosts fic feed me like im starving victorian child , everything you write absolutely slaps and i love reading it i would read your fics / blurbs all day if i could !

𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐒 ( @ouchvns ) : venus ml , you are such a big inspiration for me and i remember following you and being totally shocked when you followed me back , i thought you were so cool (still do) and im so glad that we're moots !! :3 you're so talented and i love talking to you + themes always devour

𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘𝐒𝐋𝐔𝐕𝐑 ( @rileysluvr ) : reading your fics n' stuff is like a little treat for me , i will read everything you write and lowkey your stuff's got me kicking my feet and giggling while i read it

𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐍 ( @saintlulls ) : your cod ficsss bro , literally one of the reasons i decided to start writing for cod characters ! you're so talented and i wish nothing but the best for you , would love to interact more with you :)

𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐀 ( @solutopia ) : i love the fact that we both have guts series (obvi on my other acc) and though i have absolutely no clue who the character you write for is, your writing is so good so it doesn't even matter

𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐄 ( @spiderst4rgirl ) : first of all you're genuinely so pretty likeee , second you seem so chill to talk to , i feel like we could have like a good movie marathon if yk what i mean

𝐑𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍 ( @starryririn ) : i love reading your poems !! you're such a talented poet i really enjoying reading them :)) im so thankful that you included me on your fic recs , it really means a lot and im glad that we're moots !

𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐌 ( @the-verbatim ) : i love talking about cod characters with you and listening to you ramble about your hcs n' stuff , it makes me so happy to read :)) i can't wait to talk to you more !!

[vibratingskull]

Yandere!Thrawn x f!reader

A gentleman. That's what crossed your mind when you met him.

Calm, collected, efficient, respectable and always polite. To say you felt safe when he's here is an understatement. Always three steps ahead, you follow his orders with loyalty and fully trusting in his capacity to bring you victory and keep the crew safe.

You catched his eyes as a lieutenant when you dared contradict him on one info he got wrong. He simply asked you to develop your reasoning but he finds himself curious about you since then.

He always congratulates you when you succeed in your missions, and you proudly accept his praises. What a wonder to be appreciated by a man of his grandeur. You always do your best to be worthy of his praises and he do notices

You always seem to feel a burning gaze at the back of your neck when you sit at your console on the bridge.

You're always the one bringing him the datacards each evening in his office. You don't know why, it is more of an ensign job than an officer like you as low rank as you might me. But orders are orders.

He always greets you with a grin, flashing his teeth.

One evening you bring him the cards he invites you to stay and observe the art he recently collected from your enemies "I must form my officers to my techniques and tactics" he explains.

So you stayed late trying to decipher the piece, trying to see what he sees. You're so concentrated on the art you don't notice he's only watching YOU behind your back.

What a pretty neck you have... what a delicious curve it draws under your strands of hair...

Would he dare and dig his teeth into your flesh right here and there?

No...

You admit you don't see anything and he just smiles at you. Not to worry, you can always learn tomorrow, and the day after, and the one after, and after again...

You take that really seriously, he took time off his busy schedule to teach you something important. Surely he's seeing potential in you to be a great officer! What else could it be?

If only you knew...

It's weird though, cause when you speak about it to Faro she tells you he never tried to teach her anything like that.

You continue to come and try to learn each evening and he patiently explains to you, develops his reasoning, exposes his ideas, shows you the thread of his thoughts. This is so interesting you drink his words, utterly fascinated by his intellect. How lucky you are to learn from such a man!

You end up spending so much time with him, you slowly start to relax in his presence.

It's not that he is scary, but he's taller and larger than you and so intelligent. His muscular stature is intimidating and with his burning red eyes you feel he could strip your soul naked, gulp you down and devour you in one go, like a carnivorous predator.

And those canines...

You still don't understand how he does his trick but you sharpen your mind and tactical abilities and he appears really pleased. "You do not understand my ways but you are a competent officer on your own terms and I take pride in having you in my crew. Together nothing could stand in our way." he tells you one day and it gorges you with pride. You smile and flush at the compliment.

His heart flutters at your reaction. Sometimes he loves you so much he wonders how your blood taste...

He asks your opinion on the bridge at Faro's dismay, riddles you his trick questions, stimulate you intellectually and always smiles when you give him a good answer. If you're wrong it is okay too, just another subject he can teach you during long hours in his office.

But something's bugging you : You see all your colleagues rising in ranks and changing posts but you remain at the same place, not understanding what you're doing wrong. You came to Thrawn with hope, but you're quickly disappointed

"No I can not interfere in the process" he lies "You are not ready, you have so much to learn, I have so much to teach you." Don't leave the Chimaera, don't go, don't leave him behind. He will not tolerate it. Stay here, stay with him, where it is safe, where he can protect you, see you bloom and flourish. Remain with him, only him...

Because there is simply no him without you

You broke up in tears the fifth time you came to ask for his advice on how to rise through the ranks, and it stabs his heart to see your tears. "I'm sorry to cry..." You sob "But I don't know what to do anymore...What am I doing wrong?" He comes closer with pain in his eyes and caresses your cheek with the tip of his fingers, just grazing your skin delicately.

It is the first time he's touching you, he wanted this first contact to matter and even though this isn't what he had in mind, being present for you when you need him is as good.

Especially when he totally could have put pressure on the bureaucracy to help you. He could have helped you from day one, but that would meant seeing you go to lead your own forces, away from him. And that he simply cannot tolerate.

The touch is light and fugitive but it electrifies him to his core, emboldens him with a new energy. How good it feels touching you, how right it is... How addicting it is, how toxic. How he will never get enough of you. How much he loves you so much, how much this love strangles him and blinds him to his duty, how he could devour you right there and finally make one with you

Maybe it would end his torments? Maybe he would finally be at peace? This lingering pain in his heart when you're not in his sight, would finally be gone, his breath would ease, the weight on his chest loosen, his loneliness disappear and finally be a complete being. How perfect it would be... You and him forever.

You don't see any of that of course, he mastered the stoic mask for ages.

But you're very much two separate beings and you're very much in tears in front of him. Without thinking about it you throw yourself in his arms and cry, soaking his pristine white uniform. He remains frozen, stunned.

Is it really happening? You want to touch him? Is he dreaming?

He slowly embraces you in his arms and caresses your hair, soothing you, pressing you tighter against his beating heart.

You're crying, devastated but he's in heaven right now.

He would do it again in a heartbeat if it meant you would come back in his arms. A million time. He will console you each time with delight. It is okay if you cry as long as you remain with him.

You can't see it but he has the most elated grin.

Should he brings you to his quarter now? Should he risk it?

No, everything in due time.

You're tensing your body suddenly and part with him, which stabs him in the heart, but he doesn't show it, only letting you go with the expression of a concerned superior.

"I'm sorry sir, that was rather unprofessional." you present your excuses. "There is no need for excuses between friends" he answers with a compassionate smile.

You raise up your head in surprise. Friends? You two? You and him? You and the mighty Grand Admiral Thrawn? You cannot believe it, but he said it himself. So maybe it is true.

He did not bring you to his room this night. Simply whished you goodnight and safe dreams, but he didn’t not sleep that night.

He feels on fire, his powerful muscles rolling under his skin, his arms desperately empty.

But he's smiling. You're closer now. Soon he won't feel that pain anymore. Soon you'll be his and only his. And if you refuse...

Well let's just say he doesn't lack ideas to keep you close, even against your consent.

And soon came another great news, one that brings joy to his heart and excite him tremendously

"You didn't know I doodle in my spare time?" you ask surprised

"No." He refrains an elated smile "Why did you not tell me sooner?"

Fantastic! He can now dissect you to atoms, observe you under a microscope, understand you on a totally new level, spy on your most hidden secrets, reveal your intimacy. You'll be like an open book to him now.

But that is still an excellent question : how did he not know such an important fact about you? Intolerable!

He will install a secret camera in your room to prevent it from happening again!

He insists on seeing your drawings despite your reluctance. "I am simply curious to see what kind of art you produce." He politely presses "Will you not humor a friend?". You sigh and hand him the folder.

He indulges himself, comfortably seated in his office, unraveling your very inner being, like he is discovering you for the first time.

You're even more wonderful than what he first thought. You're definitely the most perfect person, and even more perfect for him. He is so happy!

Until he wasn't

"Who is it?" He asks nonchalantly but his thoughts are murderous. "Who?" You wonder, raising your head from your datapad. "The person you love." Your eyes widen "How… How do you know that?", "I saw it in your drawings. So who is it?"

You shift position on your seat, uncomfortable and embarrassed.

"In fact..." You say with a little voice "I think there are several..."

Oh

Oh no

@blueninjablade3, @bluechiss

[absolutebl]

Old Fashion Cupcake, I don’t have enough superlatives

I was gonna save this until next week, but I just need to get it out of my system. 

This show had me from the moment they broke the egg yolk with the chopsticks in the opening credits for episode one. 

All the hand held and super close camerawork. Marvelous acting from everyone. Subtle but very precise and tailored dirty screen directing style (AKA lots of objects and other people’s bodies interrupting shots.) Did you notice the frame is only direct and uncluttered when they are eating or being intimate with each other? The way they manage to make things that shouldn't be sexy so very sexy (like Togawa’s hamster cheeks - boy just wants to gorge himself, and not on food). It's truly art. 

But there is so much more going on here. 

Japan has a long tradition of using food, both the preparation and consumption, as an allegory for intimacy... ALL KINDS of intimacy. And in this show the discovery of desserts, and the enjoyment of the experience of indulging, is both sexual seduction and emotional tethering. This is not just an exploration of youth for Nozue it is an exploration of desire. 

On the other hand, the want drips off of Togawa at all times, like true starvation. It’s epic levels of pining we are looking at and not just love but pure lust. It’s actually quite remarkable to see this done with Japan’s signature reserve, because the through line of the filming style and food allegory dictates they will simply have to depict physical intimacy at some point. But not of the explicit kind we get in the darker BLs from Japan (although they could easily go there), but of a truly sexualized romantic passionate kind that we don’t normally get from Japan in their softer BLs.

You see, there comes a point, when the food allegory has gone as far as it can, and Nozue recognizes that in episode 3, even as he doesn’t recognize Togawa’s desire. Because for him the desire has been made manifest though the medium of desserts... and now that sensation has been satisfied, he feels like that’s good enough. 

But when Nozue shuts down the eating intimacy, Togawa was always destined to break open into into sexual need, just the way the egg yolk is broken open in the credits. 

What is truly genius about this show is that when this finally happens at the end of episode 4, the camera switches to one long hand-held shot. This kind of stage-craft reliant shooting is the ultimate form of filming intimacy - it is the camera’s form of emotional trust: 

The directer is trusting the cameraperson not to waiver, 

the camera is trusting the actors to pull through for the entirety of the shot (no forgetting your lines on a long take, no missing your marks, no slipping out of character), 

the actors are trusting the crew to capture it in that one moment when they give it their all. 

This is the kind of theatrically-based close work is as near to sexual intimacy as actors and crew can get. 

Thus the shooting style is, itself, a reflection of Togawa’s needs, of Nozue’s shock and realization and crumbling, of the levels of trust between them that are fracturing and reforming. It’s absolutely brilliant.

I am perhaps, losing my mind over this show.  

[dailyadventureprompts]

I’m planning to run a shadowfell arc with my long running campaign, and I’m planning to play with the theme of memories, memory loss, items and books absorbing memories and the like. There’s this mansion with an evil shadowy figure collecting/stealing peoples memories etc etc, and I would be super intrigued to see what your take on an adventure/arc like this would be?

Dungeon: In Memoriam

At the end of it all, we are all just stories

On the edge of the tidelands there is a grand and forgotten estate. Not forgotten in that it is abandoned, but forgotten in that a lapse of memory hangs about it like a fog. Even most who live in the nearby village can recall its existence while looking right at it, and only then a few paltry details about how it has affected their lives or the history of their home.

The source of this amnesia is the work of a shadowcaster by the name of ██████ ██████, who has taken the estate as his own while perfecting the art of stealing stories. Like other shadowcasters, ██████ wields the powers of remnant and entropy inherent to the shadowfell and has a particular fascination with how the memory and narrative surrounding a thing can survive independently of that thing's destruction. Originally presenting himself a medium and exorcist, ██████ was hired by the estate's original owners to deal with a lingering ghost problem, only to discover that there was a rift to the shadowfell in a root filled room in a corner of the greathouse's basements.... a room that no one seemed able to remember.

Taking advantage of such close proximity to the upside down, ██████ began experimenting, eventually creating an umbral ink that would steal away facts and moments of time when placed on the page, allowing him to make ghosts of people and places without even needing them to die. For now ██████ is content to tinker, but it's only so long until stumble upon the conspicuous absence he's shrouded his activities under, or the lives he's disrupted in the process.

Hooks:

Within the party's bag of holding or the pack of their most rougish member the heroes discover a bound together stack of pages, which detail their encounter with a man named ██████ while out on the road earlier in the campaign, described as an innocuous scholar with inkstains on his cuffs, always seeming to be writing in his travel journal. He offered insight on their adventures then seemed to disappear. Should the party destroy or damage the pages, they'll suddenly remember this encounter, them managing to steal these pages, and the fact that the man's shadow more often resembled a tree than that of a human

The party visits a seaside village, and while most things seem normal, there's a woman clearly in distress that the locals are keeping well away from. She claims she's lived in the village all her life but most seem to think she's a stranger, those few who do remember her thought she ran away when she was just a lass (about the age that she started working at the manor). Like many of the servants, ██████ worked some magic to keep her on thinking he was the master of the estate, forgotten by her neighbours, but forgot to fully edit her story to prevent her from visiting her parents grave on the anniversary of their deaths some decades past.

██████'s ink comes from a great unnatural tree that grows up through the foundations of the manor from the shadowfell below. Adapted to eat away at the memories of ghosts, the shadowcaster gorges this tree on the stories of the living, creating an ever deepening wellspring of power and a never ending supply of umbral ink. Drunk on power and the possibilities of playing blackout poetry with people's lives, ██████ does not realize that the tree is literally undermining him, threatening to drag the whole estate down into the land of the dead, erasing whole swaths of the countryside as the manor's library is drowned in amnesiac gloom.

Art 1

Art 2

[seokjinsonlyone]

this is something that has been weighing heavy on my mind for like a week and i just gotta get it out of my head so i can move on with my life and onto other delusions so i just need to lay out rn which member is the type of bf to sit beside you or sit across from you when you go out to eat

a/n: as always this is based on nothing other than my astute observations, delusions, and vibes but also i know i’m right 😌

namjoon:

joon sits across from you

as soft and gentle vibes as this man gives off you’d think he’d be less of a liability than he is

you can’t completely avoid the splash zone when you’re still within a five foot radius but you’ll miss the brunt of it if there’s some sort of condiment mishap or knocked over beverage

besides my baby is an extrovert he likes to make connections and it’s easier to do that when he can look you in the eyes and read your body language, comprehending what you’re saying even when your mouth is stuffed full of rice

seokjin:

mr eat jin himself is definitely sitting across from you

like his appetite may not be as big as it once was but he is still a culinary arts connoisseur

he got to have space to spread out when he sit down to have a nice meal

besides he has a better view of you from across and can see how he can assist you better should you need your shrimps peeled or the like

yoongi:

he’s gonna sit beside you bc one thing about him is he tryna look everywhere but at you

like eye contact it just ain’t his strong suit he can’t maintain it

also he doesn’t care about societal norms like yeah you’re in a booth yeah one side is unoccupied no it doesn’t bother him

hoseok:

acrossssss!!!

half of the entertainment of going out to eat with hobi is sitting across from him

he’s literally the most animated person on earth and it’d be a crime to miss how his face twists and turns as he gorges down his food

also i’ve probably said it before nd i will say it again he very much gives one shake two straws and i really just imagine that happening from across the table okay that’s my story and i’m sticking to it

jimin:

first of all i’d just like to point out that the only thing i had to google in order to find this gif is ‘jimin vlive flirting’ no other context nd the worldwide web knew exactly what i was looking for

that being said he obviously sits across from you

he loves to flirt and loves to fluster even more and the main way to do that is through the eyes

loves to have his moments where he just stares at you while you’re talking and when you finally make eye contact with him that’s how he’s looking at you

that’s how he’ll continue to look at you until you break looking away heat dancing across your cheeks no matter how long you’ve been together

taehyung:

beside you 100%

like there’s infinitely more cute stuff he can do while sitting beside you than across from you

like putting his arm around your shoulders and sharing the menu

and dropping kisses on your forehead

and rubbing his thumb in circles on your thigh

and on a more mischievous note stealing bites of food off of your plate

all in all he just doesn’t like to be too far away from you if he doesn’t have to be

jungkook:

i don’t know if it’s proper to call him a switch in this situation but that’s the term that i’m using

like my brain went back and forth for days tryna figure out what this mans does and in the end i can equally see him sitting across from and beside you

bc on the one hand he definitely doesn’t see the point in not utilizing both sides of the table

and it’s easier to play footsie when he’s across from you; intermittently nudging his leg against yours before deciding to just trap it in his for the rest of the night bc you’re his anyway

but on the other hand he always marches to the beat of his own drum and he’ll allow his clingy side to tell him that the other side of the table is too far from you nd he needs y’all to be glued at the hip, that way you’re in perfect range for him to steal your food while he smacks in your ear talking bout how good the food is

[rfswitchart]

Stealing this from @willowszplants because I like the idea

WHO’S ARTSTYLES I WANT TO EAT AND WHY. (AND WHAT THEY’D TASTE LIKE)

@smallpapers (Taste: Strawberries) I love Papers, their art is amazing, they are wonderful to work with. I'd love to collab with them sometime. Their art tastes like strawberries. Usually sweet, sometimes tart, occasionally sour in a way that makes you remember some painful things, but overall a warm and pleasant flavor that you want to treat yourself with.

@turquoisespace35 (Flavor: Steak) Honestly, their works are so filling and savory. The way they draw Hexsquad's kids, how they have written a beautiful AU around Greek mythology that stays true to both Owl House AND the mythology it pulls from. To be honest, it just feels like well seasoned meat. (sorry if this upset you if you're vegan or something. Also I don't know your pronouns)

@marionette-j2x (Flavor: Ramen) Ok, now hear me out... The one thing I love their art is that it's comforting and deep, like the flavor of ramen (Not instant ramen, I mean the kind you'd get at a noodle bar or something.) It's not necessarily sweet, but it's a joy to consume and rich in flavor. Especially the Grom comic and 'Earth'

@savzo (Flavor: Pineapple) Even when her art has moments of angst that can burn your tongue a bit, everything about their art is sweet. EVERYTHING. I still want more of the Hunter 'owlbeast' comic and Fate help me if I didn't want to absolutely gorge on more of Bard Hunter (good lord, the way you write Hunter and Willow in that makes me happy)

@moringmark (Flavor: Macaroni and Cheese) AGAIN! HEAR ME OUT! Mark's work is just something you want to slam your face into and just devour endlessly. Mark's comics are comfort food personified, especially for Owl House fans. It's the food you just want all the time forever that always just appears.

@threegoblinart (Flavor: Chicken Noodle Soup) Her art is just, you know, like that thing you really need when you're sick. It's comforting, it's healing, it tastes great and fills you up right. Plus, it had to be a liquid. You know, because watercolors.

[lvnesart]

I used to be someone who just didn’t ship anyone in genshin because of the community but u and ur GORG art have opened by eyes to see that making art without caring what people think is fun actually

Don't worry. If I really cared so much about the community like thta, I wouldn't draw half the ships I do

When it comes to fandom and ships, you just gotta be aware there'll be ships you don't like and you should avoid them and the people who ship them. And there will always be people who don't like yours and you just gotta be okay with that lol

[octuscle]

Hi Chronivac support! I got a problem.

I’m 18 now but my father in law doesn’t like tattoos at all, and he said that if I get one I will be fired out of his home. Is there anything you can do to fix the problem?

First of all, I hope we are talking about your boyfriend's father when we talk about your father-in-law. If you are already married at 18, you probably live in a remote valley in Nebraska where there is no tattoo parlor anyway.

Sunday noon. Dinner with the family at your friend's house. You can hardly imagine anything worse. You're wearing a freshly ironed white shirt and you've also bought a bouquet of flowers for your friend's mother. You ring the doorbell. And through the screen of the front door you hear your friend's father yelling. "Woman, the doorbell rang." Of course, the owner of the house can't open the door himself. Your friend's mother opens the door with an apron. Obviously she is still cooking. You say hello and hand over the flowers. She brushes a gray strand from her almost wrinkle-free face, smiles and asks you to come in.

Until the food arrives, your friend, his father and you sit silently at the dining table. The atmosphere is always tense to the breaking point. The bully only needs one wrong move to explode. So you sip the ice water occasionally. And try to breathe as silently as possible. The only sounds come from the kitchen. Until suddenly an infernally loud burp shatters the silence. Your friend's father laughs. "Good one, guys!" At that moment, the doorbell rings. Your "father-in-law" gets up, goes to the door, jokes a bit with the pizza delivery guy and comes back with two big boxes. He shouts in the direction of the kitchen "Honey, pizza's here! And the burp needs more food. Will you bring the boys and me a beer?"

While your mouth is hanging open and your friend is gorging himself on the pizza, the dad asks if it's okay if he takes his shirt off.

And then the mother comes with four bottles of beer. If you were a little less gay, the miserably long legs in the Daisy Dukes would definitely give you a boner. You'd rather admire the two full sleaves and her belly button piercing, perfectly accentuated by the sleeveless crop top. Damn, your boyfriend's parents are both just in their mid-30's. A DILF and a MILF as they could not be better.

When you ask if you can have a slice of the pepperoni pizza, the dad replies that you should fucking call him Mike and since when you have to ask. After all, it's your home too. Where you fuck, you don't have to ask, is one of his mottos. Laughs. And burps.

After dinner, Mike asks you to take off your pants. He wants to take another look at his latest work of art. The dinosaur is a freaking masterpiece. And excellently healed. Mike asks if you've ever thought about getting a tattoo on your neck or face. You laugh and say you'll think about it once the right leg is done.

[angellayercake]

The Diary of Cardinal Terzo Four

Cardinal Terzo x Assorted Characters | NSFW | AO3 | Intro | Two | Three | Interlude

Based on this funny little article we start to read about some of Terzo’s creampie adventures in his diary.

disclaimer I know this is the farthest thing from safe sex but let’s pretend in this universe there is a special secret satanic sti and pregnancy protection just for fun

02/02 New ghouls are so inquisitive.They have glimpsed our world only from the depths of hell but that does not prepare them for having a tangible body and all that  it entails, the new sensations that it offers. They explore the world wide eyed and gorge themselves on all the new and exciting experiences on offer to them. Art, music, nature, food, drink and of course, pleasures of the flesh. Sometimes they seek out their fellow ghouls, or Siblings of Sin but the recently summoned quintessence ghoul had caught my eye. He was more reserved than some of the others, hung back and observed rather than leaping into the fray. He was tall and broad, his chest straining at the buttons of his robes when he moves and strong arms straining the taught material. It seemed I had caught his eye as well. His intense gaze was tracking my movements across the welcoming party and it would have been rude not to introduce myself. His name was Omega and he accepted my invitation for a tour of the Abbey, the gardens, the common areas, the library and of course the clergy wing. Naturally the tour ended at my personal quarters, in case he ever needed to visit me. He didn't hesitate when I invited him in and tonight he got his first taste of the joys of a tight, warm, willing human body. Creampie count: 59

19/02 Nothing makes you feel more like a rockstar than having a beautiful woman bouncing on your dick in the back of a limousine. I'm sure I will be in trouble with my fratello when he sobers from his celebratory bender and probably Imperator too but the sweet thing I picked up wanted the ride of her life. The Ghost project and the entourage which I was a part of always garners attention at these award ceremonies being the big scary spooky satanists that we are. It can other us but it also creates a lot of intrigue which is often a lot more fun. She was a typical popstar, tanned, long blond hair, and more make up then Papa and she wanted a taste of darkness. Commandeering the limo was easy enough and then I had her. I left the drivers partition open so Alpha, the lucky ghoul could watch as I stripped her and took her apart. It was easy to tell she was used to faking her pleasure. Her initial moans practised and meant to flatter a fragile ego but I soon had her shaking and gasping on my fingers until she was clawing at my cassock to get to my cock. I let her find her pleasure for a time aquainting myself with her unnaturally sculpted but still beautiful body. But then I had to show her what it is to be fucked by someone who always embraces the sin of lust completely. Creampie count: 89

15/05 She was a Senior Sister when she had arrived at the abbey. I saw so many faces come and go as I had risen through the ranks of the Clergy, it was not surprising I had seen her somewhere before, but that hadn't stopped me propositioning her. She was beautiful, confident and commanded the attention of everyone around her. I had to have her, if she would let me. I tried everything and she just laughed. She laughed! But the way she rebuffed me was so charming I couldn't even be offended. But today! Today we were  discussing party tricks, of all things. 'Do you have any party tricks Sister?' I asked innocently. 'One,' she replied. 'I can swallow a sword. Right to the hilt.' I was frozen to the spot and could feel the blush rising on my face. 'Would you like me to show you Cardinal?' I couldn't speak or move or do anything. Her hand was on my chest as she waited for my answer and I had to do something before I lost my chance. I nodded, so awkwardly it makes me cringe to remember but she was as good as her word and showed me exactly how much she could take down her throat. Her talent in this particular trick was unmatched, exceeded all expectations. So it was only fair that I showed her my party trick and if I do say so myself, I was unmatched too! Creampie count: 259

[metamatar]

need your thoughts on csm and particularly part 1 now that you're caught up

I think my immediate reaction on finishing part 1 was like

loved the art, loved the characters def feel like the story has a lot further to go thematically, only really picked up for me with the reveal of the gun devil

I now think CSM's strength in the early arcs is the patience of the construction of Denji as an everyman resisting the reality that the promised capitalist horizon he imagines is a lie.

now that you can tell the horrible direction my thoughts are going in I will continue under the cut, this is so long oh god. cw: canon typical violence, sexual assault etc.

Initially the repeated invocation of wanting to kiss a girl and eat a good meal as ultimate dreams and Denji being presented as an idiot for it felt like a cheap way for readers to get to root for him in a very Naruto sort of way yk? Poor orphan boy wants a basic life. This is disrupted right from the start ofc, starting with the Himeno's assault and Makima's whole deal. I think this construction becomes more valuable in part 2 when with Nayuta there is a very intentional attempt to construct a family, where the horizon is a normality that includes saving up for college. Nayuta's resistance to some of it becomes more interesting than just jealousy or protection imo.

I think the complications of the "workplace" as it functions for Denji in part 1, living quite literally under Aki's supervision with Power invokes the very familiar team as family stuff under threat. The explicit knowledge of how he has exchanged one debtor for another is v effective especially when they take care of Power. You have him and the readers being forced to confront that purpotedly transactional relationships do not exclude the sort for the simple honesty of care we idealise. And that the care will be weaponised anyway. Aki's abortive attempt to opt out is chef's kiss.

The reveal of the use of the gun devil by nation states might functionally be the first moment Denji is forced to acknowledge the complicated incentives of the Bureau. You get to link the exploitation of people to the more obvious rot in liberal institutions. Part 2 then ratchets this up with the discourses on propaganda and mass participation.

I thought the "Killing of Makima" involving the use of the Bureau insiders led by the old man leaned a little too much on their heroism, vibes wise but I also get why narratively that needs to be done. Which is why Kobeni is so important to me lol. The art and creativity on display at the end of Part 1 was like gorging yourself on one of those early pictures of Paradise. The apartment scene could get read as Makima's personal cruelty but I think it's just making explicit the cruel seductions of modernity etc etc. As a violation of Denji esp. it is almost complete, structurally taking the form of kink and the parody of care after. Mwah.

With that, the reconciliation of Denji's past and present when his past in debt bondage is also constructed with the societal complicity about domestic violence becomes delicious. Nayuta is reborn out of a cannibalism not really done in the service of personal survival and def not out of a commitment to self sacrificing heroism.

I'm excited for Part 2, Asa esp lets you get at some of the same neuroses Denji has as a teenager but from a gendered perspective. Her relationship with Yuko is some of the strongest bit of writing about bullying and justice I have read in a while. I've enjoyed the lead up to Fami and War's apocalypse so far, but their motivations are still a little inscrutable and fallback on devils, wyd? despite their sisterhood. I think Fujimoto's focus seems to be the public discourses around devils in this arc, so thats probably why it feels like that but I'm personally always interested in all of it.

[fearoffun]

hi there!! there isn’t a need to publish this ask I literally just am so curious if you had any resource or tutorial regarding your neocities! I’m sorry if this is so out of the blue but I saw your site and really adored the layout!! I’m specifically just wondering about the method you used for your blog posts - I’ve found some recommended ways to do it but i feel like yours is integrated really well imo :) also if you’re not comfortable answering or anything that’s totally fine lol pls don’t feel obligated. lastly your art is so gorg!!!

i'm finally going to answer this ask...!! it's going to be a very long read so i'll keep it all under this cut

i know you are specifically curious about the blog posts page but i figured this was a great time to thoroughly explain my website layout too since i had another person asking about it (i'll put that at the bottom though) :D

please bear with me btw because i... i have never made a tutorial like this before LOL

--

blog posts guide

1. scrollbox

i made a super low effort format for my blog entries. i honestly just wanted it to be a super simple scrollable box with all of my entries being in one general place. CSS to do this, i created an all encompassing <div class> that had the styling property of overflow.

fyi, i also added a <div class> within the scrollbox class that would handle the padding but TBH i'm not sure... i needed to make an entire class for that LOL REFERENCES - scroll box

2. date & time

HTML ok honestly i just used a <p> element and made it bold....

3. images (optional)

HTML i don't always attach an image to my entries but when i want to, i use this <div class> that sits below my date & time. i style it with an <img class> that i created and add an <alt text> too to make it more accessible!

CSS this is what the <img class> looks like. i like my images centered and on their own "line."

4. status

HTML again, another <div class> specifically made for the status. i just made the font size smaller to visually differentiate it from the actual entry itself.

5. blog entry text

HTML my blog entries are simply typed up between <p> tags and i use <br> to start a new line... it literally just looks like this LOL....

THAT'S ALL...>!!!!!! :)

--

website guide

1. general page layout

HTML in order to establish where i want all of my blog's content to lie, i created a <div class> specifically to store it all.

CSS the styling for it is pretty simple! just setting a max-width to limit the size of everything that will be in it and also centering the page with the margin.

2. sidebar

HTML my sidebar just comprises of a heading tag and navigation links.

CSS this is all personal taste aside from the fixed position

REFERENCES - fixed sidebar - responsive sidebar

3. main content

HTML because everything is stored in the <div class="content">, the sidebar and the page contents are limited to the constraints of the it.

that is all pt. 2...... bless <3

[ryartchus]

HIIII YOUR ART IS SO GORG OMG

your anatomy always seems so good too, where do you get references for poses/anatomy in general.,,???!!

finding pose references with 2 characters interacting is always so hard,,,

Thank you!!! i am unfortunately evil and rarely use references but when i do I'll use pinterest or mash together a bunch of different refs from google or wherever whdjdbjfbd

[absolutebl]

Old Fashion Cupcake - Courting Your Person with Pancakes

quick pitch

Old Fashion Cupcake 

Japan June 2022 Viki 

9/10

Foundational Romance Tropes? office romance, age gap, employee/boss, food is the love language, coming of age late in life 

This show had me from the moment they broke the egg yolk with the chopsticks in the opening credits for episode one. It’s about a younger man with a long cherished crush on his boss (ten years older and going through a mid life crisis) who decides to save and seduce said man with pancakes. It’s wholesome, comforting, sexy, and a very necessary narrative about still having hope, interests, and openness to affection at any age. It’s coming of age/queerness packaged in a subtle critique of expectations around masculinity and love and loneliness... and it’s beautiful. 

It utilizes hand-held and super close camerawork, long shots, dirty framing, and marvelous acting (stagecraft) from everyone. The directing style it subtle but very precise and tailored dirty framing (AKA lots of objects and other people’s bodies interrupting shots.) 

Notice the frame is only direct and uncluttered when they are eating or being extremely intimate with each other? 

This show manages to make things that shouldn't be sexy so very sexy (like Togawa’s hamster cheeks - boy just wants to gorge himself, and not on food). It's truly art.

But there is so much more going on here.

Japan has a long tradition of using food, both the preparation and consumption, as an allegory for intimacy... ALL KINDS of intimacy (give Tampopo a shot, it’s a remarkable movie). And in this show the discovery of desserts, and the enjoyment of the experience of indulging, is explicitly both sexual seduction and emotional tethering. This is not just an exploration of youth for Nozue it is an exploration of desire and identity.

On the other hand, the want drips off of Togawa at all times, like true starvation. It’s epic levels of pining we are looking at and not just love but pure lust. It’s actually quite remarkable to see this done with Japan’s signature reserve, because the through line of the filming style and food allegory dictates they will simply have to show physical intimacy at soem point. But not of the explicit kind we get in the darker BLs from Japan (although they could easily go there), but of a truly sexualized romantic passionate kind that we don’t normally get from Japan in their softer BLs.

You see, there comes a point, when the food allegory has gone as far as it can, and Nozue recognizes that in episode 3, even as he doesn’t recognize Togawa’s desire. Because for him the desire has been made manifest though the medium of desserts... and now that sensation has been satisfied, he feels like that’s good enough.

But when Nozue shuts down the eating intimacy, Togawa was always destined to break open into into sexual need, just the way the egg yolk is broken open in the credits.

What is truly genius about this show is that when this finally happens at the end of episode 4, the camera switches to one long hand held shot. This kind of stage-craft reliant shooting is the ultimate form of filming intimacy - it is the camera’s form of trust:

The directer is trusting the cameraperson not to waiver,

the camera is trusting the actors to pull through for the entirety of the shot (no forgetting your lines on a long take, no missing your marks, no slipping out of character),

the actors are trusting the crew to capture it in that one moment when they give it their all.

This is the kind of theatrically-based close work is as near to sexual intimacy as actors and crew can get.

Thus the shooting style is, itself, a reflection of Togawa’s needs, of Nozue’s shock and realization and crumbling, of the levels of trust between them that are fracturing and reforming. It’s absolutely brilliant.

All that said I did find the final episode bit of a let down. Narratively it reverted back to pretty standard light Japanese live action yaoi, of the style I talk about here. I did expect a little bit more intimacy from this specific narrative even with Japan at the helm, at least showing the two of them cuddling in bed together or something very domestic if not kissing. I’m not surprised or upset that they returned to status quo, and this is still an amazing comforting unexpected gem of a show, but it’s not the 10/10 I thought it was going to be at the end of 4. 

Still, solid and watchable and 

DEFINITELY RECOMMENDED 

I wrote some more on this show with regards to age gap romance comparing it to Minato’s Laundromat here. 

(source)

[dandunn]

No worries, i was worried the prompt would be too much, but thanks for the response!! The only other prompt i can think of is: lupin and jigen, fav/nostalgic dish? Hopefully that sparks some idea but if not, it's ok.

Cw: food, anxiety around eating, alcohol

They're at dinner, at a place so high class the serving staff look at Jigen funnily, like he's not supposed to be there. Three Michelin stars, and that's about three too many as far as Jigen is concerned.

Lupin glides in, allowing the staff to take his coat and orders so naturally, he's definitely meant to be here. Conversely, Jigen feels like more and more of a bum the longer the night goes on.

He orders a steak, the safe option in a sea of unpronounceable dish names, delicate seafood, various things drowned in truffle oil. Lupin orders something that looks like a modern art installation on a plate and tucks in.

It's true that he's earned this, or at least thinks he has, Jigen thinks as he stares at his food. He's put up with Lupin's eccentricities long enough to reap the rewards and fool people into thinking he's part of the upper crust, but he's definitely not used to eating food like this.

"Something wrong?" Lupin says. The restaurant is so politely quiet that he has to lower his voice to avoid it ringing out over the quiet piano music.

"N-no, it's fine." Jigen says, finally summoning the courage to break the perfect presentation of foodstuff-turned-canvas painting on his plate. He takes a bite of his steak and it's… fine. "Why do they bother dressing it up for fancy if it's just gonna end up in your mouth?" Jigen grumbles around his mouthful of steak as he chews.

"The first bite is with the eye." Lupin winks as he takes another elegant bite. "You're a puzzle, I've been trying to figure out what you like to eat and I still haven't figured it out."

"Food is food."

"Yeah but everyone has a preference."

"Meat."

Lupin just looks at him with his eyes sparkling in the low light, swirling his wine glass. "C'mon Jigs, entertain me."

"Kid doesn't have any table manners! Look at the way he holds his knife an' fork!"

Jigen had chuckled it off while the men around him brayed with laughter, only then had he really paid attention to how he held his fork; forcefully holding down his meat with his fork like a dog might hold down a rabbit, then sawing a chunk off before stabbing the bite and transferring it to his mouth.

He could see why the others laughed, it was a cumbersome way to eat. At school the teachers would demand to know if he was right or left handed before forcefully switching his knife and fork around accordingly.

Why the fuck did it matter? Who the hell cared about table manners as long as the grub made it into your mouth? 

Well. The mob cared. From that point on Jigen paid careful attention to table manners, to the point where he was more concerned about how he held his cutlery than what he was eating.

After a certain point in time, he lost most of his taste for food, burning his taste buds with cigarettes and whiskey instead. Eating light kept him alert on long stakeouts and kept him trim. He couldn't stand the thought of ballooning up like the boss and his close circle. They always gorged themselves on fine food; caviar and steak and foie gras. So much so that they resembled the geese that were force fed to make that stuff.

All Jigen had to do to suppress his appetite was to think back to that moment when every eye turned to him and laughed at the clearly lower class way he held his knife and fork. 

Sometimes, like now, Jigen is reminded of how much he hates being stared at while he eats. He had been braced to cut into his food again before he noticed that he was once again clasping the silverware like a gorilla. He puts his cutlery down. "What's yours?"

Lupin takes a sip of wine, he's a glass or two ahead of Jigen and his inner lip is stained red. "Raclette."

"Bless you?"

A dazzling grin, "Melted cheese, put on top of boiled potatoes, charcuterie, anything you like really."

"Ain't that just fondue?"

"Better." Wine swirls around again, Lupin's lips taking their time meeting the edge of the glass, "You'd enjoy it. Everyone sits around the grill, no one cares if you eat it a little messy. It's fun."

Crap, he noticed.

Jigen's food is getting colder on his plate by the moment. When Lupin puts his glass down to cut into his food, his table manners are impeccable of course. Knife and fork held daintily but firmly in his hands, not grasping or stabbing. He even dabs his mouth with his napkin instead of swiping it over his face.

"Thought yours would be a little more-" Jigen says, trying to get the focus off of himself again "-classy?"

"No one is too classy for melted cheese." Lupin rests his chin on his folded hands for a moment, giving him a grin as cheesy as the subject matter.

Jigen smiles despite himself. "You want the truth?"

"Yeah I want the truth."

"The burgers and milkshakes from a place back home. I went with my dad as a kid, he used to put bourbon in his and gave me a sip." Jigen prods his expensive ribeye, avoiding looking Lupin in the eye.

"Let's go." Lupin says suddenly.

"Huh?"

"Let's go get a burger and a milkshake!"

"You're ridiculous. Who the hell leaves a ritzy place like this to go eat greasy crap?"

"I do, if it would make you feel better. I haven't seen you eat much since we started working together."

Jigen shakes his head, cutting into his raw bloody steak again and trying to enjoy it. "The place probably doesn't even exist anymore."

"Only one way to find out."

The steak tastes like iron on his tongue, the fat sticking to his palate like glue. Lupin watches him expectantly - eyes shining and his own food abandoned. Lupin would probably drop it if he said no again, but he seems genuinely excited about learning such a mundane thing about Jigen's past. Part of him would hate to let him down.

"Alright." Jigen drops his knife and fork, spitting a bit of fat onto a napkin. "If you insist."

Lupin grins and jumps to his feet, slapping down the bill and a generous tip onto the table.

A few hours later they're sitting in the crummy old haunt of Jigen's youth, unwrapping burgers from greasy paper and sipping milkshakes out of tall glasses.

"I'll be damned." Jigen mutters. 

"Is it as good as you remember?"

The paper crinkles as Jigen takes a bite. "Mm, yeah. Just as crappy."

One of Lupin's eyebrows samples his own food. "Oh. Oh- that's awful!" He looks like he's about to spit it out before he bravely swallows.

"Hey, I said I used to like 'em, I didn't say anything about it being good."

Lupin looks surprised for a moment, then bursts out laughing.

"We only ever came here because the food was cheap and the milkshakes were good." Jigen continues with a grin, "I guess they've survived on the same business model for this long."

"That's fantastic, good for them!" Lupin takes a sip of his milkshake to wash the taste away. "Ooh, that is good! You got any bourbon on you?"

Jigen puts a finger over his lips, making sure that the guy at the counter doesn't see before pouring a finger each into their glasses out of a flask.

They snicker together under their breath, eating their shitty burgers and sipping whiskey-milkshakes. It's like a huge weight is off Jigen's shoulders as he watches Lupin - Mr Fancypants himself - get ketchup on his nose and a blob on his tie.

"So, you want to try Raclette next?" Lupin says, as he polishes off his burger and wipes his hands on a paper napkin. "I won't make fun of you for using a knife and fork wrong - promise."

"Hey, fuck you." Jigen says, without any real bite behind it. "Melted cheese sounds fine to me."

By the time he's finished talking, Lupin has stolen Jigen's flask out of the inner pocket of his jacket and is stealing what's left of his bourbon.

"Hey!" Jigen laughs, grabbing it back and emptying the last few drops into his milkshake. 

"Thanks for treating me!" Lupin says, sticking out his tongue.