#zen thoughts

[commandershepardvasfuckit]

There’s a learning curve to being in an arranged marriage to someone who’s a different species, especially with biological differences.

(Period sex, rut/heat, size difference)

————

Your monster husband was always determined to take care of you, even if at times he could be a bit smothering. The first time you got your period after your arranged marriage you just wanted him to leave you alone, stubbornly he insisted on fussing over you even though he had no idea what was going on.

A few weeks later he went into his rut, though he kept his distance and only asked to spend some time sitting cuddled up to him and letting him rub his jaw and cheeks against the sides and top of your head.

You settled into a routine of taking care of each other as you grew closer. He stowed away little treats for you, going as far and importing teas and other goodies for you from your home kingdom to spoil you with during your period. Happily he’d rub your achy joints, keep you distracted with stories, and made sure you ate and took your medicine.

During his first rut with you he just wanted to nuzzle and cuddle, too scared to ask for more. You sat on his lap while he cooked breakfast at the hearth, him happily purring and nuzzling against you to help him get through his rut.

You grew closer, started bathing together, sleeping snuggled up, and eventually slept together. He was a nervous, easily flustered thing in bed and much preferred you to lead, well except during a rut. It seemed to be the only time he had no problem setting the pace, an often slow, deep pace. It wasn’t what you expected when you first learned about a rut, but you had no complaints.

Now you laid curled in bed, the second day of your period while your husband fussed over you. He had just brought you some pain medicine and tea and now was making dinner, always insisting that you didn’t lift a finger. He may not completely understand what a period was, but he knew you didn’t feel well and that was all that mattered.

After dinner he drew you a hot bath and helped you wash off. He helped you change into fresh clothes, and rubbed your achy joints before fetching you the bag of grain that was warming up by the hearth to help soothe your cramps. You life here was much simpler than at your family’s estate, but your husband was kind and loving, and you wouldn’t trade that for the world.

It was still quite early when you felt him shifting about, and felt his erection against your backside.

“Love, it’s early and I’m bleeding, give me a few days” you sleepily muttered.

He just whined against the top of your head, repeatedly poking the back of your thighs while he tried in vain to slip between, seeking any friction he could, “Please” was all he could manage.

You’d recognize that soft, needy whine anywhere and you just sighed. It wasn’t his fault that his rut happened to coincide with your period this time.

“My dear, is there anyway you can wait a few days?”

“I need you” his voice was desperate, it almost sounded like he was on the verge of tears.

“I know,” you reached up to scratch his head and try to soothe him, “but it’ll be gross, and messy.”

If you were back home and married to a human your handmaids would have attended to you for the week and you would have stayed separate from your husband. It had taken a lot of getting used to with having your monster husband here taking care of you, but you couldn’t imagine sleeping with him like this.

“Not gross,” he whined back, “it is just you.”

“It’ll be a mess.”

“I can clean everything up. Just please.” His voice was breathy and he was shuddering with every breath.

You still weren’t sure about it, but you also hated to see him like this. You shimmied out of your pants and undergarments before lifting your top leg up and tilting your hips back so he could line himself up. In one swift stroke he buried himself in you completely and you let out a hiss from the sudden intrusion.

“Sorry” he apologized, but held still so you could adjust. Slowly he began to move in slow, deep strokes, filling you completely and distracting you from your cramps and achy joints.

He was so warm like this, his chest pressed against your back and one large hand resting on your stomach right where your cramps were. If anything he was a better heating pad than what you usually used.

As usual, he seemed completely at peace the moment he was in you, just purring while nuzzling you. It was cozy like this, his purring and body heat was soothing and his slow pace was enough to give you some tingles without shaking you up too much. Honestly you could have fallen back asleep pretty easily like that, his massive frame just wrapped around you and completely enveloping you.

It was nothing intense, but your toes curled and you sighed contently as his slow pace finally built enough to tip you over the edge. He followed right after, softly moaning into your hair while you felt warm cum filling you before dripping out mixed with your own fluids.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

You took a moment to survey yourself, “Really good actually, my cramps and joints aren’t near as bad now.”

“Good. Do you mind if I stay like this?”

“That’s fine, as long as you keep a hand on my tummy, you make a really good heating pad” you laughed.

He gently kneaded his hand into you, which felt nice against your sore muscles, “Of course, my love.”

You spent the next few days splitting the difference between period care and his rut, though to be honest your husband’s warm hands and cock might be better period care that what you were doing before anyways.

[quotefeeling]

A flower does not think of competing to the flower next to it. It just blooms.

Zen Shin

[alwayspostiveparadise]

[zenwinter]

Hermit-A-Day, Day 11, Cub 🧪

[thebibliosphere]

I'm a fecking edjit.

I keep complaining about this never-ending EDS flare, but I forgot that a mast cell reaction can not only be triggered by pain but also ignite the pain neural pathways and basically become a fecking ouroboros of self-devouring misery.

Pain triggers mast cell degranlation. Mast cell degranulation causes pain.

I'm not just having an EDS flare. I'm still degranulating from last week's migraine episode. I stopped medicating too soon.

Christ on toast.

I hate this disease.

[perfectfeelings]

A flower does not think of competing with the flower next to it. It just blooms.

Zen Shin Talks

[thehopefulquotes]

A flower does not think of competing with the flower next to it. It just blooms.

Zen Shin Talks

[a-path-by-the-moon]

[thoughtkick]

A flower does not think of competing with the flower next to it. It just blooms.

Zen Shin Talks

[commandershepardvasfuckit]

A snow day with your monster husband while visiting the kingdom where you’re from.

————

Snow.

Your monster husband had never seen snow.

He lived up north, closer to the equator and along the warm, tropical coast. Sun and sand were an everyday occurrence for him, but now he sat glued to to the window at your family’s estate watching the snow fall while the two of you visited the southern kingdom you were from.

It was endearing how fascinated he was with it.

“It looks soft” he broke the silence.

“Fresh snow is” you said.

“Snow” he answered back, struggling a bit with the consonant cluster in the beginning. His human common was pretty good, though his accent was heavy and he spoke slowly in common versus his rather rapid troll. “I would like to go out in it.”

“You’re going to freeze.”

“I will be fine. It gets cold over night back home.”

“Yeah, and no one goes out at night because of it.”

The two of you lived in the orcish capital city, far from his own village. Nestled into a ravine in the desert, your husband was used to dry, sweltering days and intensely cold nights. It had been a lot of whiplash for you, troll food and customs around the house and then everything else done the orcish way in the city.

Now he was experiencing the same thing here. He drew a lot more looks here than you ever did in the orcish city. He towered over everyone and drew incredible amount of attention between his blue skin, mane of dark leafy green hair, and long elephant-like tusks. Weirdly more people seemed caught up on the fact he was always barefoot.

You looked at how he was dressed now and knew there was no way you were going to get him to put on shoes or any warm clothes, not that you had anything that would fit him anyways.

“You want to go out into the cold snow like that?” you asked.

“It will be alright, the cold is not so bad.”

“Ok” you sighed.

Out in the garden he still didn’t seem phased, happily walking out into the fresh snow and reaching out a hand to catch a few falling flakes.

“Having fun?” you asked.

“It is quite different” he said, shuffling his feet as he walked to purposefully kick up snow. He tapped at the frozen water in the fountain, peeled thin sheets of ice off the leaves, and had to touch everything. It was all quite endearing.

You had done the same thing the first time you traveled to his village. As you walked along the shore you kicked up sand, grabbed every seashell you saw, and chased crabs up and down the shore as he just smiled and watched.

You reached down and mounded together a ball of snowed and threw it at him, catching him squarely in the back. He looked around startled before seeing your smile and the evidence of disturbed snow at your feet.

He tried throwing a fist full of loose snow at you, but the powdery spray didn’t come close to reaching you. Instead you taught him how to pack it together to make a snowball, which he promptly underhand lobbed at you with a big grin on his face.

You taught him how to make a snow angle and a snowman, and occasionally he lobbed more snowballs at you whenever he thought you weren’t looking. It was always nice seeing him so relaxed. As one of the advisers to the orcish king your husband could be quit serious, though under it all he was a deeply playful person and that side of him did come out when it was just the two of you.

“It may be a bit cold” your husband said.

“Oh? It’s a bit cold?” you teased.

“I am allowed to be cold.”

“Would you like to go in then?”

“Please.”

Back up in the room the servants had already lit the fireplace before you got up there and laid out tea and a few snacks, something your husband was never fond of. The concept of having servants baffled and annoyed him, especially coming from a more communal culture. No, around your house back in the city it was just the two of you, which was big adjustment though you did like the skills you had picked up by doing things yourself.

He poured tea for the two of you while you changed out of your many layers of clothes. His hand was ice cold when yours brushed against him as you took the tea cup from him.

“So, is the cold still ‘not that bad’? you teased again.

“It may have been colder than I was expecting, but I am fine” he stubbornly insisted.

You beckoned him over to sit on the bed with you and wrapped a blanket around you both while you sipped your tea. His arm was icy where it brushed against yours.

“Did you have fun?” you asked.

“I did, it was interesting, but I do not think I would like to live where it snows.”

“So maybe trolls do get cold?”

“I did not say that.”

“You feel like ice.”

“I am alright.”

“Ok, fine” you shrugged, “Then I guess you don’t want to cuddle up for warmth.”

“I did not say that.”

“Well I just didn’t think you’d want to be under all these blankets with me if you weren’t cold. I was nice and bundled up outside so I’m not too cold, but I thought you were cold and maybe you’d like snuggle up, but I guess not.”

Wordlessly he sat his cup of tea down on the table and then gently took yours also and sat it aside. He laid down and immediately pull you on top of his chest, his skin felt cool to the touch still even if he didn’t want to admit he was cold. You squirmed to wriggle out of your pants and he quickly caught on, eventually giving up and having to sit up to get his shirt off without getting it stuck on his tusks while you finished undressing.

The two of you laid back down now skin to skin and you happily traced shapes along his chest. He felt a little warmer now. You wiggled yourself down lower, playfully grinding against his erection until you felt him roll his hips up against you, looking for more friction.

“So you really weren’t cold?” you asked again.

“It was not that bad.”

“So you weren’t cold at all?”

“I am alright.”

“Are you really going to lie to your wife? Especially now?” you scooted back up onto his chest and he let out a whine.

“I can be a little cold and still be alright” he defended.

“Oh, so now you were a little cold?” you teased and nipped at his chest.

“Maybe a little, but that is all.”

You knew when to cut your loses and that was going to be the closest things an admission as you would get from him. Slowly you trailed kisses farther down his chest and scooted back down until he was slowly thrusting between your wet folds. He took his time as always, never in a hurry, until you felt his tip slip into you. You let out a moan against his skin, happy that at his size that at least he was more tapered than a human.

He continued his slow pace, one of his large hands on the back of your head just playing with your hair and the other on the small of your back to hold you close. With the exception of his rut, he was slow and gentle, dragging everything out as long as possible, making sure you were completely satisfied several times over before even beginning to think about himself.

You certainly had no problem with spending the hours between now and dinner finding all sorts of warms to stay warm with your stubborn husband. And so what if you possibly missed dinner? Surely no one would notice the disheveled two of you raiding the pantry later.

[authenticity2025]

A flower does not think of competing with the flower next to it. It just blooms. - Zen Shin

[alwayspostiveparadise]

[quotefeeling]

A flower does not think of competing with the flower next to it. It just blooms.

Zen Shin Talks

[johnnyshrine]

★ 131 // “Watercolor Cards”

[perfectfeelings]

A flower does not think of competing to the flower next to it. It just blooms.

Zen Shin

[nihilmachina]

Out of control meme redraws strike again. This time with tragedy.