#I FUCKING DID IT .

[hakusins]

CAGE EVENT CAGE EVENT CAGE EVENT CAGE EVENT-!!!!!!!!!

[nearlydark]

Enjoying the shadows at the Huntington Library

Harman Phoenix 200 🎞️

[nocasdatsgay]

The Rite of Spring: a spring time affairs fic

Day 6 @polyacotarweek Celebrations

Pairing: Tamlin/OC/Lucien/Elain | Rating: E | Word Count 3883

Masterlist | Poly Week Masterpost| Read here on A03

Warnings: Smut… ritual sex.

Summary: A Calanmai fic. Tamlin and Flora complete the rite, going to find their loves once it is done and the next day help with cleaning up the festivities.

AN: I didn’t proofread this. I also didn’t cut out the bad smut like I said I was LOL

Tagging: @saltedcoffeescotch @ysmtttty

Flora entered her chambers late in the afternoon, covered in dirt and sweat from planting. She should have been in her rooms after the massive dinner party hours before. But stubborn as ever, she went straight to her garden to plant a few more strawberry plants in the first row she designated for her experiments. Her husband was already there in their rooms, being painted by Lucien. Tamlin’s arms were covered and dry, Lucien was working on his torso. 

“About time you showed up,” Lucien paused, eye clicking away as he looked her over quickly. “Where have you been?”

“Planting, I told you both that this morning.” Flora was already undoing the buttons of her shirt to prepare for a bath. “Where’s Elain?” 

At that Lucien chuckled and went back to painting Tamlin’s back. “Following behind Baxton to make sure people listen to him.” 

Flora nodded. Baxton was the youngest advisor they’ve had in centuries, being only 57 years old. He was kind and smart. The four of them trusted him fully but courtiers had a hard time taking him seriously due to his age. Elain and Flora both made an effort to be in earshot during events like this. Just in case. 

“Go bath love,” Tamlin said softly. “It’s almost nightfall.” 

Flora did just that, leaving behind a trail of clothes to the bathing chambers. She always managed to get so filthy when planting no matter how hard she tried not to. Once she was clean, she came out wrapped in a towel. Tamlin was sitting on a stool letting the paint dry and Lucien was putting the paints away. 

“Where is my dress? I didn’t see it in the armoire.” 

“Pity,” Lucien replied. “You’ll just have to go naked. I have extra paint.”

Flora made a face as he grinned at her. She looked to her husband.

“It’s on the bed, Flora.” 

She looked back and she did indeed walk right past it. 

“Sorry,” was all she could say as she went to the side of the bed where it laid. 

They used the same dress each year- Tamlin had a spell put on it to keep it from tearing. A miracle really with those claws of his. White satin gown with lace sleeves and a heart shaped corset bodice with a skirt that flowed outward at the hips. As soon as she dropped the towel and slipped it on, Elain came through the door. 

“Everything is ready,” she stood on her toes to kiss her mate then walked over to Tamlin to do the same. “Baxton will have the fires lit soon.” 

Flora glanced at the window. Night was indeed approaching. She listened and could hear the drumming faintly. Immediately her nerves spiked. Elain must have sensed it; she came over to her and brushed her hands lovingly through loose strands. 

“You look lovely,” she whispered. 

“So do you.” And gods did she ever. Her sage cotton dress matched Lucien’s vest. 

“You’ll do fine,” Elain pressed a soft kiss to her lips and pulled back. “You always do.” 

Flora could only nod, swallowing her worries down. She could feel Tamlin watching her. She schooled her features and smiled. 

“I’m ready when you are.” 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The Rite always made her nervous. She knew what she was getting into when she married the High Lord of Spring. The magic chose; not him. Even if he swore he would always choose her. There was always that doubt in her mind. She always thought back to before- before when she would wait with all the other females and he would never choose her. 

It didn’t bother her then. She was just a Spring nobody. 

But now she was his wife. 

The same thoughts that plagued her every single time over the last decade came rushing into her mind with a vengeance. What if he chose a female from the crowd? What if he chose Elain? She looked over to see her two loves standing side by side, Lucien’s hand in Elain’s as they waited. Elain being chosen would be fine. If it had to be anyone else, it would be her. 

Flora turned her attention ahead to the clearing. The glittering ghost white stag wandered in ahead. Tamlin pulled his bow and Flora inhaled sharply, holding her breath. The arrow struck true, the stag bursting into a thousand pieces, each glittering one halting in the air and then flying right into Tamlin. When he dropped the bow and arrows, he was no longer himself. He turned, green eyes glowing in the dark. And they were staring at her. 

Then the magic, invisible for the maiden, took hold of her. She could feel it crawl up from the ground, on her legs, torso, and finally wash over her head. She was no longer herself either. Her vision went hazy, only focused on Tamlin who was walking towards her. She froze in place as he approached, unable to move even if she wanted to. Then he picked her up, his arms under her legs and across her back to hold her close and carried her into the cave. 

Her heart beat in time with the drums. They echoed heavily against the cave walls as well. Before, fae would be in the caves watching- engaging. Tamlin changed the rules when they married. It was just them in the massive cave, the plants on the walls glowing and casting a green glow within the room. 

In the middle was the white smooth stone, ancient like the cave itself. A long time ago, they said the maiden was slain on that stone. The sacrifice being her life instead of her maidenhood. Even that was a thing of the past now. The stone wasn’t cold when she laid on it. Mere contact with it had her arching up and squeezing her thighs together. 

She sat up and stared at her husband. His eyes glowed the plants- the shadows from them giving him a menacing look about him. She watched him rip off his pants. His claws out and proud, making her breath quicken. Her legs fell open as he crawled onto the stone and his claws scraped the surface. 

The paint all over his body, even past what she walked in on earlier, was spelled to not move until the magic came. Now it was smearing as he crawled over her. The dress bunched at her thighs from when she spread her legs open was now being pushed up by a clawed hand. It was off in moments, her helping him pull it up and over her head. 

Both of them now nude, the drums seem to be going faster in her mind. They demanded he take her and her hands were on him, trying to pull her to him. But Tamlin could be cruel even with the magic. He held himself back, dragging a crawl gently down her chest along the valley between her breasts. 

Flora’s whimper echoed through the cave. “Please,” she whispered.

Her body was getting too warm, the magic too demanding. She rolled her hips and his eyes flashed in the dark. One of his hands planted by his head, another gripped her hip to pin her down. She could feel those claws digging into her flesh and her whimper came a moan. 

Tamlin muttered in an ancient language, one coming from the magic. Flora answered in the same language. She didn’t know what was said, only it felt like the magic was talking to itself. Like two lost lovers reunited for a short time. 

Then he leaned in and kissed her. 

Heat washed over her and her hand went into his hair. The other wrapped around his back, smearing paint as she tried to hold him closer. His hips pressed against hers. She spread her legs wider, letting him settle between them so he could rut his length against her. He stilled long enough to reach down and line himself to her. 

Her back arched when he pushed into her, magic humming loudly and the drums beating louder. The glow of the walls pulsed in time with his thrusts and all Flora could do was hold onto him tight. That ancient language fell from her lips again, chanting; begging. His horns grew from his head and her hand brushed against them. 

Each stroke inside her had her singing. Her moans and his grunts echoed against the walls, nearly drowned out by the drums. She could feel herself peaking, and she shouted words she didn’t know. Tamlin replied back in kind, and she shattered. They fell apart at the same time, the magic exploding out from them shaking the earth below them. Glowing flowers bloomed, lighting up the cave. 

Flora came back to herself, panting. She watched Tamlin’s horns retract as he caught his breath, eyes no longer glowing. The Rite was complete. Though magic lingered in her the first wave always made her so tired. 

“Let's go home,” she whispered, her voice her own again. 

He didn’t reply. He kissed her cheek and moved off of her. The residual magic wouldn’t surge for a couple of minutes. Which meant she didn’t have the energy to move. Tamlin knew, he always did. He helped her sit up and wrapped her stained dress around her body. She sighed when he picked her up, holding her close to his warm body. She tucked herself in against him and rested as he carried her out of the cave and to the room their loves would be waiting in for them. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When Tamlin carried his wife out of the cave, wrapped in her dress. He ignored those engaging in their own depravity thanks to the magic. The power, albeit lessened, was still humming in his veins and making him itch. He winnowed to the manor and into the hall where he knew he’d find Lucien and Elain. It was always the same room; even before Flora, before Elain, even before Amarantha. The sacred bedroom Lucien jokingly called it. 

Flora stirred in his arms and did not question where they were going. She only motioned to be put down when they reached the door. There were lewd noises coming from within, making her smirk at him as he opened the door. The full moon cast a glow on the bed, illuminating Elain where she straddled Lucien. Lucien glowed but his glow was from within, brightening the rest of the dark room. Elain stilled and looked back at them. 

“Don’t mind us,” Flora dropped the dress around her, letting it fall to the floor. “We can watch.”

Elain grinned but didn’t speak, moving off her mate who cursed as his cock slipped out of her. She crawled up the bed, staring at Flora, sitting on her knees at the edge of the bed with her arms pushing out her breasts. Tamlin turned away from them, as Flora went up to kiss her. He was staring at Lucien. 

His claws came out while he watched Lucien scoot up the bed to lean on the headboard. His glow lessened but his hardness had not gone away, curling up against his stomach while he stared back at Tamlin. Lucien watched Tamlin shuck off his pants, Lucien stroking himself idly as Tamlin crawled over him. 

Unlike Flora, Tamlin was rough, grabbing Lucien’s hair with his clawed hand and pulling him against his lips. Lucien groaned while Tamlin kissed and bit his lips. Residual magic surged him. He needed Lucien right then. He pulled back slightly, still holding Lucien by the hair. 

“Did your mate prep you?” He asked in a whisper, his breath dancing along Lucien’s mouth. 

A breathy moan behind them, Elain, replied for him. “Yes, Tam.”  

Tamlin grinned and leaned in, tilting his head to lick his tongue up Lucien’s neck. His legs fell open and Tamlin moved between them. Lucien reached down to stroke Tamlin, oil coating his length. Tamlin had to resist the urge to bit him, instead bringing his mouth back up to Lucien’s and he let Lucien guide him in. Tamlin could have collapsed onto him from the way his body relaxed as he pushed in up to the hilt. 

He let Lucien adjust but only for a moment. The magic in him surged with a vengeance and he started thrusting into him. Tamlin’s claws came out; he dug them into the duvet below them and held himself up. The slap of his hips against Lucien’s and the moans he was making drowned out any noises from his wife and Elain. Lucien reached between them to stroke himself. This time Tamlin did bite his neck; he sank his teeth in as he came, Lucien falling behind him with a loud groan. 

They caught their breath and they could hear their wives’ pretty moans behind them. Tamlin kissed the bite mark on Lucien; a small apology even though he knew the male loved it. He moved off Lucien and a moment later, Elain was on him. Her hair had been pulled out of it’s braid- by Flora no doubt. Her scent of Jasmine was covered with the honey scent of Flora. He grew hard again from just the smell of them together. She gave him a soft kiss and he groaned, tasting Flora on her as well. He pulled at her hips Elain took that as a signal to move up. 

She crawled over his face, balancing herself with the headboard. He stared up at the glistening wetness between her thighs before he wrapped his arms around them and pulled her down on top of him. His favorite thing about Elain was how quiet she could be until one got her in bed. Lucien had to soundproof all the bedrooms they shared because Elain was a screamer. Each suck and flick of his tongue had her singing, her voice inching higher the closer she got close to the edge. 

Tamlin heard his wife yell out. He chuckled while his lips sucked on Elain’s clit knowing Lucien used Elain’s pretty moans to his advantage. Flora was very susceptible to noise. Elain screamed too, pulling his hair as she came on his tongue. The second she relaxed, he flipped her over and crawled over her to settle between her legs. He slipped into her with ease and the magic underneath his skin calmed. Elain brushed her fingers into his hair looking up contently with her big doe eyes. He didn’t look to see what Lucien and Flora were doing. 

Elain finally wiggled her hips, impatiently. Tamlin was more gentle with her than he was with her mate. Partly because the magic wasn’t as intense anymore. He rocked into her and kept his mouth on her breasts to make her mewl under him. This pleasure was softer; the peak of it built slow in his spine, bubbling over with a burst of warmth that spread through him. Elain’s was softer too, a loud and content sigh as she came arching up against him. He kissed her softly before moving off her. 

The magic was almost out of all of them. He could feel it. He laid on his back and looked beside him. His beautiful wife straddled Lucien, chasing her pleasure. Tamlin reached between them, making eye contact with her as he rubbed his fingers against her. She came looking at him and he heard Lucien groan beside him following right behind her. They both stilled and caught their breath. 

“Tam,” he looked up at Lucien. He was still glowing, those Day Court powers still simmering under his skin. “One more, yeah?”

Tamlin only replied with a nod. 

An hour later and the four of them laid out on the large bed, spent and covered in sweat and fluids. Flora was asleep between him and Elain. Lucien had half his body draped over Elain while she ran her fingers through his hair over and over. Tamlin sat up for a moment, using his magic to dissipate most of the filth on all four of them. Dawn would come in a few hours and they could clean themselves then. Until then he was content to lay with his loves and rest. 

When Tamlin woke the next morning, it was bright daylight shining through the window and Lucien was the only one in bed with him. He knew Lucien was awake by his breathing. 

“Where are our wives?” Tamlin’s voice was rough, like the sound of tumbling stones. 

Lucien grumbled something in response. Tamlin sat up in the bed, a blanket falling away from him. He didn’t remember getting a blanket. Lucien was half covered by a throw blanket as well. The girls must have covered them sometime this morning. The morning after Calanmai was always slightly unpleasant. Not as much as it used to be, with three others to help run the magic out with. 

“We should get up and bathe. We’re filthy.” Tamlin nudged Lucien. 

“Gods Tam, alright.” He groaned as he sat up, squinting at Tamlin. “What time is it?”

“Near noon from the looks of it.” 

Lucien grunted in response. They both moved off the bed. Tamlin went to the bathing room and he could hear Lucien using magic to remove the bedding. They would wash and repair the bedding themselves later. There were just some things he wouldn’t subject his servants to, and the bedding after Calanmai was one of them. 

Tamlin ran the hot water and the two of them ended up sitting in the large bath longer than needed. Part of it was soaking helped the pleasant ache Tamlin had from last night. The other part was Lucien couldn’t keep his hands to himself and they had to rerun the bath. 

Once dressed, Tamlin pulled out two vials of a tonic he kept in the pocket realm for the day after Calanmai. He gave one to Lucien and downed his own in one swing. They both then set off to find food and see what work was needed to clean up after the celebrations. After lunch (he had been right about the time) they went to help with the clean up. 

It was only with the last few pyres left, that he left to find his wife. Of course she was in the gardens. He watched her from afar for a moment. She had her hair up in a high ponytail, pink ribbon tied into a bow on it. She was wearing trousers and a linen white tunic. Her face lit up when she spotted him, an action that never ceased to make his stomach flip on itself. She ran over to him. 

“Tam, you’re awake. Did you sleep okay? How do you feel?” She came up and stood on her toes to kiss his cheek. “Is Lucien up as well?” 

“I’m better with a tonic in me. Lucien’s up and helping dismantle the pyres. I came to see what you were up to.” 

“Planting.” She pointed to the plot where she ran over from. 

“You still haven’t told me what you’re planting.” 

“Oh.”

Flora sometimes got in her own head, forgetting what she had and had not said allowed. A quirk Tamlin didn’t mind as long as she wasn’t holding in her feelings. Which she did often. 

She continued. “Well, I’m experimenting to see what the difference is between planting before the rite and after. If there is an extra boost in the magic from, well you know.” She flushed and Tamlin laughed loudly. “Stop it. It doesn’t matter, I’m planting- Tam stop laughing at me.”

“I’m sorry, Flora but,” he wiped at his eyes to remove the tears from laughing so hard. “Everyone in Prythian knows what we do in that cave.” 

She pouted at him and shot him a glare. “Since you’re just going to laugh at me I’ll go back to planting my strawberries.” She held her head high and walked away from him. “And you aren’t getting any when they’re ripe.” 

“Honey, I am sorry.” He couldn’t suppress his grin though he tried. 

He followed her over to her plants. She seemed to be less annoyed with him as she explained the first row was planted yesterday and the second row today. She showed off the next row, where she would plant again in three days and the last row which would be planted in a week. She had a wooden marker at the beginning of the rows labeling which was which. 

“If this row produces more fruit and or bigger fruit, we can have the farmers start planting the days before Calanmai.” She pointed to the first row. 

He nodded, watching her dig her hands into the earth. His wife was so intelligent. Never in all his centuries did he even think to test for this. There was always just the obvious: calanmai helped the crops and the magic of Spring. He never questioned the mechanics of it. 

“And if it doesn’t?” 

She looked up at him. “Well then they can just rest. As they deserve.” 

He nodded again and looked out around the bustling grounds where everyone was finishing up cleaning. 

“What do you plan to do now?”

“Probably go help Lainy unpack one of the dozen bags Lu seems to think is needed for a week-long conference.” 

Tamlin laughed. “Don’t you know at least two of those bags are mine? I always forget something.” 

“That was before we married, Tam. I packed your bags just fine.” Flora got off the ground and dusted off her pants. “And do not start with me, I wanted to do it.”

As if he could forget her shooing him away to take over. Instead he crossed his arms and asked her seriously, “Are you certain you don’t want to go?”

Flora rolled her eyes. “And miss the peace and quiet I’lll have with Elain? I’m going to pass so many laws while you’re away, you won’t have any work to do when you get back.” She smiled at him. “I’ll be fine.”

“I am just worried it will go longer than planned. They always do.” 

A treaty agreement in times of peace required all factions and courts to meet once every five years. It felt redundant but with the Humans involved, it was necessary. They scheduled for a week but more often than not it would go on for two or three. Autumn Court was the host this year. Tamlin was half convinced Eris planned it right after Calanmai on purpose.  

“I’m sure Lord Eris will allow you to wash your clothes. You can always pull the ‘we’re practically family’ card. Or have Lucien do it. He’s the favorite.” She grinned. 

Tamlin only hummed at that. He then remembered, “I have a few items to catch up on before I leave. I’ll be up late in my office.” Meaning she was not to worry and wait up for him tonight.

“You’ll still have breakfast with me before you go?” She asked, eyeing him with a pout. 

“You know I will,” he leaned in and kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you at dinner, if not before.”

”I love you,” she said softly. 

“I love you,” he replied back, kissing her again before heading off again to help with the final bit of clean up. 

[literallyjusthereformods]

I feel so sigma!

[blueartistic813]

ULTRATOBER MASTER POST

Well guys I was able to do it, I did the entire drawing challenge and now I can finally rest! Here is the challenge for those who missed it!

Day 1-5 Day 6-10 Day 11-15 Day 16-20 Day 21-25 Day 26-30

[dinosaurwithablog]

A couple of weeks ago, I said that I was gonna try to make beef wellington. I made it today, and it came out great. I've never made this before. It's a rather difficult dish, but somehow, miraculously, I did it!!! It's sooooooo good. The pastry was light and crispy, the mushroom duxelle was rich with deep flavors, the Serrano ham that I used was delicious, and the beef was cooked to perfection. The red wine reduction was spectacular. I am very, very very, very, very proud of myself and very, very, very full. As you can see from the photo above, Petey was very excited about the wellington, too. Another dish from Hell's Kitchen that I nailed. I'm very thankful to Chef Gordon Ramsay and his show, Hell's Kitchen, for inspiring me to try to cook the food they cook on the show. I have expanded my horizons and my waistline. Hahaha 😆. I need a nap. That took a lot of work, but it was well worth it. In the words of Julia Child, bon Appétit!!! 😊😍😋😋😋

[angst-is-love-angst-is-life]

...So how's your day going?

Taglist (unofficial. Literally just peeps who’ve been interested/commented; lmk if you want off {or on}) : @negative-speedforce @shrinkthisviolet @the-feral-gremlin @practically-an-x-man @leatafandom @stalecabbage @localcanadiancryptid22 @elutrosop @vexic929 @kindestwalkingmentalbreakdown

[taintandviolent]

James Patrick March -- NSFW AI AUDIO 18+!!!

[scherzosa]

finally. after 7 months. I finished the complicated research project I've been doing entirely of my own volition. and to celebrate, I got this absolutely incredible strawberry toast and coffee. you can do anything you put your mind to

[texas-writes]

Kinktober Day 12: Somnophilia

With Polnareff

Cw: somnophilia (obvs), overstimulation, creampie, oral (f recieving), fingering (f recieving)

The last month and a half had been absolutely grueling for Polnareff. Sure, he’d been away from time to time, but never this long, and his trips were never that dangerous. It was safe to say that Polnareff was more than happy to finally be home, to finally be able to let his guard down and see his lady again.

He had returned home around midday, surprising you as you put away groceries, quietly coming in and helping you finish before saying anything. You had screamed in fear, and then excitement as you realized the intruder was your Jean.

“Jean,” you called, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him into a deep kiss. He’d backed you against the refrigerator and kissed you until you couldn't see straight before pulling away and greeting you. You had spent the rest of the day catching up with Jean-Pierre and fussing over him, treating the remaining scrapes and bruises that littered his body. You had also cooked his favorite meal for him, despite his protests that you don’t have to lift another finger for him.

The two of you had gone to bed, both thoroughly exhausted by today’s excitement , cuddled up against each other, sleeping in what Jean called ‘French style”, though most just called it sleeping nude. He wasn’t particularly wrong though, Southern France was known for its nude beaches. You fell asleep thinking about how the two of you would have to go on vacation to Nice again now that he was home safe.

Polnareff had woken up early the next morning, sighing contentedly knowing that he had nothing to worry about today except what to wear and maybe what drink he would have with dinner. The rising sun was a rich orange color as it began creeping through the blinds, allowing Polnareff to take you in, tracing his fingers down your side, admiring the slopes of your body, running his large hands along the curve of your ass and down your thigh, eliciting a soft sound out of you. Suddenly he felt as if he had neglected you the night before. A beautiful woman, his beautiful woman had waiters on him all day and he hadn;t even had the decency to eat her out. Where were his manners?

The two of you were very comfortable and sexually liberal when it came to each other. and the list of things you had agreed against was quite short, nothing that would ruin the sheets, mostly . He remembered all the time he had woken up to you giving him sleepy morning head, your plush lips wrapped around his cock, whimpering softly as you bobbed your head, making strands of your messy hair fall in your face. He could always return the favor.

He thought about how much he had missed you as he let his hand fall lazily between your thighs, nudging them apart just enough for him to slide his fingers right where he wanted them. His pointer and ring fingers traced along your labia, while his middle finger dipped between your folds, gathering some of your arousal and returning to slide along your clit, drawing another whine from your lips. When he was finally satisfied with how wet you had gotten under his touch he moved from his place behind you and eased himself between your legs, kissing up and down your thighs before, burying his face where he wanted to be most.

Polnareff was always content to eat pussy, but this was different. It felt like it had been forever since he had made love to you, and he had spent his entire trip terrified he wouldn’t make it home. But he had, and now he was here, listening to the soft sounds of pleasure you were making above him, and the way your thighs squeezed his head and your hands pawed weakly at the sheets had him throbbing and unconsciously pushing his hips into the mattress as he eases two fingers into you. God, you were making such a mess on his face, but he didn’t care, he didn’t want it any other way.

“Jean,” you whine, your hands finally finding his hair and tugging at it gently. He can’t tell if you’re still asleep or not, but he doesn’t care because it's obvious that he’s making you feel good. Finally he decides he can’t take it anymore and and carefully crawls up the bed, resting his weight on the one hand whole the other rubs up and down your side as he dips his head down to kiss your neck, leaving a sloppy combination of your arousal and his saliva as he does. The hand not supporting him moves between your bodies and finds his sensitive erection and lines it up with your entrance, easing into you slowly and groaning when he bottoms out inside you.

He sits up and rests his hands on your waist, his fingers wrapping around your hips and his thumbs rubbing along your belly as he slowly rolls his hips against yours, feeling how wet you are and how well you take him. It’s enough to drive a man to madness.

“Fuck,” He breathes, fighting the urge to just pound into you, but this was about you after all.

“I missed this so much, Jean,” you whisper, drawing his attention away from how horny he is.

“Me too. How long have you been awake, mon chou?”

“Long enough, now come on,” you tease, bumping your hips against his, making him drop his forehead to yours and groan. “Do you want me on top?”

“No, this is about you,” he hums, pulling out and teasing his tip against your clit making your body jerk at the sensation.

“I see. From behind then,” you question, rolling your hips away from him and sliding your leg up to give him a better view of your ass.

“If that’s what makes my lady happy,” he replies, flipping you over and pushing back into you smoothly, one hand squeezing your hip, guiding you into his thrusts and the other pushing a palm into the small of your back, letting him have a deeper angle.

Before you know it you’re a shaking mess beneath Jean, pathetic noises falling from your lips every time his hand brushes against your skin, drool pooling on the mattress beside your head. Every move you make is jerky and uncalculated and your hips rut back against his involuntarily, further overstimulating yourself.

Jean pulls out of you slowly, groaning at the sight of cum oozing out of you, a mixture of his pleasure and yours. It was enough to make him want to go again, but he wasn’t sure he could do that without your brain melting out of your skull, so he just lays down beside you and pulls you back into his body. You whine at the contact, but quickly relax into his arms.

“How was that, mon Coeur,” he questions, brushing your hair from your face and wiping as much of the drool away as he could with his thumb.

“Mhh, Jean, it was s’good,” you slur, grabbing onto his forearms tightly, still trying to ground yourself despite Polnareff’s body pressed against your back. “Was too good.”

“Never heard that one before, I’ll be sure to stop when you tell me not to next time.”

“Jean,” you whine, tilting your head back to get a glimpse of your messy-headed lover.

“I’m kidding, I’m always a servant of love,” he laughs, pulling you closer.

“Jean?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m sleepy again.”

“Then we’ll just stay in bed.”

[crtvfty]

YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH, I DID IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!!!!!!!!!!11!!!!!!

Finally....

[cookies-over-yonder]

the gap between a tragedy and comedy

Sure, Taylor gets frequent nightmares about Scary killing his dad, but he's alive, so everything is fine. Right?

[title from I/Me/Myself by Will Wood]

ao3

☆

Taylor gasps and opens his eyes.

Another nightmare about his dad dying.

But it's okay, he's alive and all is well. Taylor focuses on that thought as he slips out of the bed, grabs his cane, and starts pacing back and forth. It's a good way to get the excess energy out.

He and his friends were having another sleepover, so Taylor was careful to be as quiet as possible so as to not wake anyone up.

Link is still asleep in the bed, and Scary, Normal, and Hermie are in sleeping bags sprawled across the floor.

There's not much space to walk, but he manages.

As he walks, he still can't erase the memory of sobbing over what he thought was his dad's dead body. His dad, who just came back into his life, and got him such a perfect present, and who was truly wanting to connect with him… but he's alive. He's alive. So everything is fine. Everything is fi—

"Ow, fuck!" Taylor yelps as he hits the ground. He tripped over Scary's leg.

Immediately, he clasps a hand over his mouth. So much for keeping quiet.

He lays there for a few seconds, waiting for a reaction, but none come. Everyone was still asleep. Nice.

Taylor tries to lift himself up. He fell forward and his arms broke his fall for the most part, but now they were hurting more than they already were. His elbows buckle underneath him and he collapses against the floor again.

Maybe he'll just sleep here for the night.

He closes his eyes, but then all he can see is his dad's body.

Fuck.

"Taylor?"

Fuck.

"Hi, Link."

"Whoa, man, what happened?"

Link is already in front of Taylor.

"My arms hurt. I can't…" Taylor tries to lift himself up again, and he doesn't even make it slightly off the ground.

"Okay, I'm gonna lift you up, okay?"

"Yeah."

Link carefully turns Taylor onto his back and scoops him up, carrying him bridal style.

"Sorry if this hurts."

It does. "Don't worry. I'd rather have this than be stuck on the floor."

And then the soft bed cushions him as Link sets him down on the bed. "Blanket or no blanket?"

"No blanket."

"Alright."

After placing him back on the bed, Link grabs the cane off the floor and props it up beside Taylor's side of the bed.

"Thanks, man. Sorry about that."

"Don't worry about it. Are you okay? What happened?" Link asks as he sits on the bed next to Taylor.

"I tripped on Scary's leg and fell."

"Why were you up?"

"I—I was, like, pacing. You know, too—too much energy and all… all that," Taylor stutters. His heart is beating too fast from the adrenaline of the fall. "I'm fine, though."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Taylor says, feeling his chest start to hurt. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, I'm chill. Let's just go back to sleep."

"You look kinda shaken up, man."

"I'm fine, I just had a… I had a dream about… like… when Scary killed my dad—but then it turned out that he was fine and still alive so like it's fine and I don't know why—I mean—It doesn't make sense for… just—I'm fine. Yeah."

Taylor's chest hurts more now. He's unsure of whether he'll even be able to fall asleep after that.

"I'm all good. I just—I fell and couldn't move, so I guess that could explain the… I mean, that's like, happened to me before. I just call my mom for help."

Taylor remembers another thought that crossed his mind when he thought his dad was dead. What if it happened to his mom?

"Look, ju—just… Le—let's go to sss…sleep. I…I'm fine now. Thanks to you…your rescue, my hero. Uhh—"

"Taylor, take a breath," Link cuts him off.

"Huh?"

It confuses him for a second, but once Taylor's no longer trapped in his thoughts, he realizes why his chest has been hurting.

"Shit," Taylor says, shifting himself to sit up a little, "I—I'm—"

Frozen, Taylor becomes hyper-aware of his breaths coming too fast, and his hands shaking, and the memory of his dad's dead body, and it won't go away.

"Taylor, Taylor, hey."

Link is sitting in front of him now. "It's okay," he says.

It's definitely not.

"Uh…" Taylor can feel hot tears sliding down his face now. Crying is something that's happened before, but whatever's going on right now feels out of his control. And scary.

Taylor feels like he's choking. He can't  get enough air in.

"I—I don't know what's… Link, I don't know…" Taylor's voice wobbles. "I—I can't…"

And he's still thinking about his dad dying, even though it didn't really happen. And it's stupid that he won't stop thinking about it.

Taylor is hyperventilating.

He's hyperventilating, and shaking, and light-headed, and dizzy.

He's definitely dying right now.

But it's not from a battle. It's not from a wound. It's… he doesn't know.

Whatever Link says next is muffled and faint. There's one thought circling Taylor's mind:

"This is such a suh—stupid way to die."

And of course, it's the perfect time for his pain to flare up. A terrible ache spreads through his limbs as if it couldn't have gotten any worse.

Everything hurts, and it's really cold, and his skin feels prickly and uncomfortable, and that makes him cry harder and breathe faster.

Suddenly, his cheeks feel warm. Something is pressing against them.

The unfamiliar feeling takes Taylor's attention away from everything that is so wrong right now. He blinks away the tears blurring his vision and looks up at Link, a lot closer to him than he was before.

There's hands on his face. Link's hands are on his face, and his mouth is moving. Past the static in his head, Taylor manages to make out what he's saying.

"...lor. Taylor. Taylor."

"Ye—" His breath hitches. Ah. He can't talk. A nod should suffice, so he settles for that.

After nodding, Taylor can see Link's expression soften a little.

"Listen to me," Link says, sounding surprisingly assertive. "You are not dying. Trust me, okay?"

Taylor trusts Link. He's always trusted Link. Usually he sounds a little unsure of himself, but right now he sounds the most confident Taylor's ever heard him be.

Something about that makes Taylor believe it. He nods again.

"Okay. Breathe in for four seconds. I'll count."

Taylor does his best to follow Link's directions.

"One, two, three, four."

Taylor takes in a breath as big as he can, which is not very.

"Now hold it," Link says, and Taylor focuses on how sure he is in what he's saying. It makes him feel safer.

"And out, two, three, four."

Taylor lets out a sigh. It gets a little easier to breathe, but not by much.

"Now let's do it again," Link says, practically hovering over Taylor, with his hands still on his face. He's so close, and he must feel so warm…

"Can—sorry—uh, can we…" Taylor leans in, presses his face against Link's chest, and wraps his arms around his back. "Can we do it like this?"

"Yeah, we can," Link answers, and Taylor can feel himself being held in his embrace.

It is warm.

And he continues to breathe with Link, feeling the rise and fall of his chest.

After a while, Taylor breaks the comfortable silence that fell over them.

"Hey… why did you cup my face earlier?" he mumbles.

"I didn't want to hold your arms, because you said they were hurting."

"Oh," Taylor feels his face get hot. Careful and considerate and kind… Link really is a hero.

A hero who's running his hands through Taylor's hair now. It's soothing.

"Do you feel better now?"

"Sorta… I mean. Thank you—I just, I don't know because… I… I've had that nightmare so much, Link. I don't know, I don't know, and I'm in a lot of pain, and I hate it, and none of this is badass like I want it to be. I don't know why this is… I don't know why it's still freaking me out."

"Mm, well… your dad is okay, but the sight you saw and fear you felt were real," Link says, and then he gently pulls Taylor off his chest and looks him in the eyes. "And you are totally badass."

Taylor lets out a wet laugh.

"I mean it. You're still here. You're alive. You're persevering. That's badass."

Link's eyes are wide and determined. Taylor can feel their gaze piercing through him, and all he can do is stare back. Their faces are as close together as they were before, though this time Taylor is a lot less out of it.

Their faces are really close together.

"Okay," Taylor whispers.

"Um, so, we should sleep."

Taylor cringes. "Yeah…"

"What's wrong?"

"I'm kinda scared. I know that nightmare keeps coming back."

"I have an idea."

Link guides Taylor to lie back down, and helps him turn to the side, then he shifts himself to lie down too, wrapping an arm around Taylor and pulling him close.

"If you have that nightmare again, I'll be right here. I'll protect you."

Taylor shudders, and a fresh wave of tears falls down his face. "Okay."

He's thankful that Link doesn't comment on how Taylor continues to cry into his shirt. Maybe he's already asleep…

Link silently starts rubbing circles onto Taylor's back. He is not asleep.

He just lets Taylor cry.

And eventually, they both fall asleep.

◇

The next morning, Taylor is the last to wake up.

Link watches as everyone else wakes up and files out of the room to brush their teeth and get breakfast, but he doesn't move, because Taylor is clutching his shirt with a death grip and his face is still buried in it.

"Taylor, wake up, it's time for breakfast," Link says, nudging him with the hand that's already on his back.

Taylor whines, shakes his head, and presses himself further against Link's chest.

"Taylor, come on, aren't you hungry?"

Taylor shakes his head.

It's not unlike him to be clingy like this, but Link suspects that what happened last night is still weighing on him.

That suspicion is confirmed when Link sees Taylor's face scrunch up and his hands start to tremble.

"Taylor, are you okay?"

Maybe it's a stupid question, but it's still worth asking.

At first, Taylor doesn't speak or move.

But then—and Link almost misses it—he just barely shakes his head.

It makes sense.

Taylor isn't really one to break down—last night must have shaken him up pretty badly.

And judging by him not knowing what was going on, Link could guess that that might have been his first time having an anxiety attack.

It must have been scary.

Seeing Taylor spiralling like that startled Link as well. Link was no stranger to recurring nightmares, but he had no idea Taylor has been going through the same thing.

Link tightens his grip on Taylor, holding him close.

"How about we get up after a few minutes?"

"No, it's—we can—" Taylor shifts back a little, and then cringes. "Ow—" he shudders and sucks a breath in through his teeth.

"It's okay, it's okay."

"We should ea—fuck, I… I can't… hurts…"

"Okay, okay, do you want me to carry you downstairs? Or I can bring you food up here."

"You can um. You can carry me again."

"Okay, okay," Link turns Taylor onto his back. Taylor cringes again, and he pulls his hands up to cover his face, and he starts breathing fast again.

"Hey, hey, just breathe."

"Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry—I'm just kinda… I—I—uhh…"

"I know, it's okay," Link says, helping him shift to sit up against the wall.

"Mmm, yeah… Yeah, yeah, yeah. I just… I need—I need a second," Taylor says, burying his head further in his hands.

"It's okay."

Taylor takes a big breath in, holds it, lets it out, and lets his hands fall back down onto his lap.

"Thank you…thank you for your help last night."

"Of course, anytime. How are you feeling now?"

"I'm… I don't feel good. I don't know why," Taylor says.

He really doesn't look too great. His face is red and stained with tears, and he's trembling again, just a bit.

"Okay, it's okay, let's go downstairs and get breakfast."

"Okay, maybe I can…" Taylor slowly shifts closer to the edge of the bed and grabs his cane. Link slips off the bed and stands in front of Taylor, ready to help.

Taylor stands on his feet for about a second before he falls forward into Link, who wraps his arms around him instinctively.

"God, my legs hurt so bad."

"I'm gonna pick you up."

"Okay."

Link scoops Taylor up in his arms, and Taylor's face gets a little redder.

"Tha—thanks."

Link grabs Taylor's cane and hangs it on his wrist.

Taylor's eyes are shut, his cheeks are flushed, and his mouth is agape.

When Link shifts him a little to get a better grip on the cane, he can see Taylor's face scrunch up.

Taylor wasn't this bad before they went to sleep last night, but Link knows that stress can cause the pain to flare up, and Taylor has definitely been under a lot of stress.

Link carries him down the stairs.

☆

Taylor almost falls back asleep as Link carries him down the stairs, but the voices of the others quickly wake him up.

They sound concerned, though Taylor can't really process what they're saying. "'M fine," he mumbles, hoping that's enough reassurance.

Sounds like it wasn't, because now Link is saying something to them.

It seems to calm them down. He isn't sure.

And then Taylor lands on something soft and warm.

Taylor opens his eyes. It's the couch. And Link is propping him up against the armrest with a pillow.

There's also two sets of eyes looking at him.

Normal and Hermie. They're sitting on an adjacent couch, both glancing at him every few seconds like they're not wanting him to notice that he's being stared at.

"I'm fine, guys, don't worry," Taylor says, though the weak and raspy voice betrays him a little. 

Before they can say anything, Link comes back with two bowls of cereal. He places one on the coffee table, and Taylor slowly shifts to an upright position, taking his legs off the couch.

Taylor grabs the bowl and puts it on his lap. He can feel Link hovering over him, ready to assist if needed, but not too overbearing.

"Thanks."

"Yeah, you're welcome," Link says, sitting next to him with the other bowl. He grabs the remote and turns on the TV. "What do you wanna watch?"

◇

The look on Taylor's face is worth everything to Link.

His eyes light up, and a big toothy grin appears on his face in an instant.

Taylor takes the remote and searches for a show.

He still looks a little frazzled, but he's got his spirit back.

Once Taylor finds a show, he puts the bowl back on the table, presses play, and leans into Link's side.

Link wraps his arm around Taylor's shoulders and pulls him closer.

"I love the soundtrack of this movie," Taylor says, and his voice is so full of love and passion and light.

Scary comes down the steps, fully dressed with her hair and makeup all done. "You guys watching Totoro?"

"Yeah," Taylor says.

"Ah, look who finally woke up," she comments, nodding to Taylor, before sitting on the couch with Hermie and Normal, kicking her feet up on the foot rest.

And suddenly, Link feels his heart nearly jump out of his chest. Taylor's got both his arms wrapped around Link's torso.

His breathing is nice and slow, his eyes are half lidded but fixed on the TV, and his face is still a little red.

☆

Taylor feels more emotionally exhausted than he has in a while.

He didn't sleep well, his head hurts, his arms hurt, his legs hurt, his back hurts, his chest hurts…

A lot hurts.

The girls in the movie thinking their mom is going to die makes him press his face further into Link's side.

Link's grip on him tightens, and all at once everything is too much, and his breath hitches, and tears fall, and then Link's thumb is on his cheek wiping it away.

Taylor turns to face Link.

They lock eyes.

Link's eyes are dark and warm and caring and concerned and protective and safe and wonderful.

His arms are strong. Taylor doesn't know when he and Link ended up intertwined like this, but he's being held and he wants to stay like this forever.

The music from the TV courses through Taylor's veins and relaxes him, or maybe that's just the warmth of Link's embrace and his enchanting eyes.

There's just something so… different about Link.

Toward him, Taylor just feels this gravitational pull.

Maybe it's his kindness.

Maybe it's his care.

Maybe it's his support.

Taylor doesn't know.

The way Link looks at him makes him feel like the most beautiful scene in any anime.

Link makes him feel like that even when he knows he looks like a mess.

Taylor can feel the hair stuck to his face with sweat, and his eyes are dry from crying so much. He's an emotional mess. He's a physical mess. He's a mess in every form.

But Link doesn't see that. Link is just gazing at him. Studying him, maybe.

And then Taylor's gaze drops.

Link's mouth is open just a tad. Taylor can hear him breathing in and out.

And his lips…

Taylor stares, and he stares, and he stares.

He can't tear his eyes away. He's looking… and thinking… and wondering… what it would feel like…

Taylor sucks in a breath and shuts his eyes. His heart is thumping and his face is on fire.

Fuck.

"You okay?" Link asks, and his voice is so warm and worried and it makes Taylor feel like molten lava.

"Uh… yeah."

Link's hand is on his head and carding his fingers through his hair again and it feels so nice and it feels so right and shit, Taylor knows what that gravitational pull is.

But it's okay, it's fine. This feels right. Taylor cuddles up against Link and closes his eyes.

"Taylor, are you even watching?" Scary asks.

"I'm listening," he mumbles into Link's side.

◇

Before Link knows it, Taylor is asleep on his side.

Some other movie autoplayed, but Link doesn't pay it much attention, he's too focused on Taylor.

He looks a lot more peaceful than earlier. Link is almost certain that Taylor did not sleep well last night.

Hopefully he was sleeping better now.

Link rests his head atop Taylor's and hums.

…Taylor has pretty eyes.

Link wasn't sure what was happening but somehow they'd ended up staring at each other for a while. Maybe Link was just seeing things, but was Taylor looking at his lips?

…Did he have food on his face?

He licks his lips. Nothing.

Huh. So Taylor was just… looking… at his lips…

Taylor's lips are kind of chapped. There's a little dried blood, too. He must have been biting them. Link does that when he's anxious too.

And just as that thought crossed his mind, Taylor started biting the skin on his lips again.

Not wanting to wake him up, but not wanting him to hurt himself, Link puts a hand on his cheek.

Taylor's eyes just barely crack open. "Wha…?"

"Sorry, just… you shouldn't bite your lips like that. They're bleeding."

"Mm…"

Link watches Taylor close his eyes again and lick the blood off his lips. "Fine..."

Slightly dazed, Link thinks he knows why Taylor kept staring at his lips.

And when Taylor presses his face against Link's chest, half–lying on top of him now, Link feels a new kind of nervousness.

But it's kind of nice?

It's nice.

And Link swears to himself that he'll keep Taylor safe from nightmares until the end of time.

♡

[grayintogreen]

thinking abt litmor again<3 how does it feel to finish ycdhn?

It genuinely doesn’t feel real. I had the document opened on Scrivener still when I went to try to do some writing and it hit me “oh I don’t need this open anymore.” And it was like OH I AM PROBABLY NEVER GOING TO NEED TO OPEN THIS DOCUMENT AGAIN (except maybe to transfer over some notes for the CR3 fic). OUADYA was written mostly in GoogleDocs but YCDHN was my first huge fic to be written entirely in Scrivener so I feel like I’ve ALWAYS had that document open even when I was working mainly on Roseverse.

It is WILD to be done.

[alien-daydreamer]

I fucking did it, after eleven months of pricking my fingers and losing needles.

[awakentrashpanda]

I just got accepted into college

Holy shit

This almost feels unreal

There’s a bunch of shit me and my parents have to do now

I’m making this post to verify that this really happened when I wake up the next morning 

[michuyox]