#am I overly sensitive? perhaps

[mariacallous]

"Thank you for your interest in career opportunities at Mount Sinai Health System. We strive to find the right person for the right opportunity. At this time, we will not be pursuing you as a candidate"

girl, just say you're not hiring me, I don't need that one sentence, fuck

[vamptastic]

the only thing i really bristle at with egg jokes is the idea that picking the 'wrong' version of arbitrarily branded items like deodorant and shampoo or whatever is egg behavior. i think everyone should use womens deodorant it's objectively superior. also just has very little to do with internal conception of oneself it's usually literally just this item smells better

[schtrawberry]

[3] personal astrology observations

[!] this is mostly an introspective view into my chart; in no way, shape, or form am i saying that any of this is fact or set in stone, nor am i saying that i am a professional astrologer. these are just presences that exist within my chart that i've felt manifest themselves in real life. simply put, take what resonates and leave what doesn't :)

— the observation that venus in the 9th house and sagittarius mars natives are far more likely to be attracted to foreigners and/or meet their future partner/s in a foreign country is true!

[nothing, just felt like confirming, esp as someone w both these placements 🤭 like, i honestly am more likely to be approached (in a romantic setting) by a foreigner both in-person and online!]

═ sun square neptune is the aspect of daydreamers. they're always thinking about an idealized version of the future or dwelling on the past. rarely do they ever think in the present. it is often easier for them to drift off into a daze either thinking about what could have been or everything that could be.

☰ chiron in fifth house indicates pain associated with creative passions and self-expression. one may have had negative experiences that have led them to feel insecure about these aspects of life; thus leading them to distance themselves from openly expressing themselves creatively. they may take great care to keep their works of art private, tone down certain parts of their personality, and may even feel ashamed to explain themselves when others ask them about certain aspects of their creative and self-expression because of negative feedback they could have gotten in the past.

but with such pain comes empathy and understanding. once developed, these natives are the first to take notice and are the fastest to lend a sensitive ear as well as a supportive hand as soon as they see others going through the same struggle.

☱ sun-lilith in harsh aspects might have been told to cover up more by both peers and grown-ups, even when wearing "acceptable" clothing when they were kids. this placement can indicate an individual that was more sexualized from a young age, which can lead to them either being hypersexual or overly-reserved sexually in adulthood.

☲ lilith in the seventh house can indicate an individual that struggles to commit and open up about who they are to their partner/s. people with lilith in this house may have had bad experiences with marriage (perhaps witnessing bad divorces or tumultuous long-term relationships between their parents) and therefore might be turned off by the thought of marriage and/or long-term partnerships.

and though this doesn't mean that the native will be a lone soul forever, it does make one more likely to have these sort of relationships at a significantly older age in comparison to other signs.

[tw: mention of domestic violence in my personal experience, i have witnessed my parents go through an incredibly bad separation (tons of emotional abuse, infidelity, and a situation actually involving domestic violence) which has honestly made me quite hesitant to get married, even as i approach my mid-20s.]

☴ the cancer rising urge to cry when someone you care about is crying or in distress in general.

☳ a few asteroid notes:

note: asteroids are less impactful to one's personality, physicality, etc. compared to personal planets. they tend to only be relevant to one's chart if they are either in a tight orb (0-1°) or have major aspects to personal planets, preferably conjunctions or oppositions.

✢ messalina (545) known as the most promiscuous woman in rome, empress messalina is still recognized today as a symbol of uncontrolled, violent, irrational, and impulsive behavior. this asteroid reminds me very much of lilith in that it is representative of dark feminine energy and having this prominent in one's chart can be indicative of an individual that is not afraid to use their sexuality to their advantage or to create harm unto others in different aspects of their lives, but especially in terms of romantic and sexual relationships.

✢ anagolay (3757) is an potentially hazardous asteroid named after anagolay, the tagalog goddess of lost things and the daughter of the hermaphroditic goddess of seasons, lakapati. she is culturally-recognized for her ability to find not only physical objects but also abstract possessions like lost opportunities and faded memories. having this prominent in one's chart can suggest an individual that is very in-tune with cycle of nature and the subsequent passage of time. they may be more sensitive to bouts of nostalgia where they dwell on things that could have been and the way that things were. may also just indicate a person that is hypersensitive to losing physical things, though.

[`] film: go (2001) dir. isao yukisada

last / next

[dadsbongos]

something about king touden

910 words / warnings - you're touden sibling, written in first pov through kabru, lets pretend incest wasn't common in monarchies

summary - your brother said people can have their opinions on you, but you didn't expect most of Laios' subjects to have an opinion.

kinktober: day fifteen - faux/!ncest ~~~

ENTRY 1 - YEAR 515. HANDMAIDEN’S HUNCH.

Something terrible was whispered to me today. I don’t want to believe it, but the horror with which this woman told me her story- I fear I have no choice but to at least give it heed.

The king -Laios- Laios’ handmaid says she saw our king with his young sibling. Not Falin, the other one. Says his large hand hovered over their knee and he moved it up their thigh in a most unfamilial way; more like some common man in a sleazy bar. Apparently he was transfixed upon the sight, groping and smoothing his thumb all down the fatty inside. 

Then the young Touden leaned up to kiss our king’s cheek. 

She told me she ran out soon after, and I chose to not pursue any conspiracy or theories. For now just to soothe the poor maiden I’ll have documented her experience.

Perhaps she didn’t see correctly.

ENTRY 2 - YEAR 515. CHEF’S CHARY.

There’s been another incident.

Senshi’s apprentice has taken to commanding the kitchen on his mentor’s days away. He told me he had planned on sweeping the area early, far before sunrise when he heard quiet giggling. Thinking it two stray maids, he was prepared to burst in when he noticed Laios’ hair glittering in faint candlelight. A common gossiper, he admits, he snuck quietly to see if the king had been entangled in an affair.

He says he saw the young Touden sibling, sitting on one of the counters with spread legs; and our king between them. Laios’ hands were perched upon his own sibling’s hips and his thumbs were scrubbing so familiarly beneath their nightshirt. The younger Touden had their own hands on king Laios’ neck. 

He, the apprentice, told me he sat there for many minutes. Watching. Listening. Though he couldn’t hear much of what the siblings were saying, he insists it was nothing wholesome by the overwhelming red on our king’s cheeks. Or by the sultry giggles let out by the younger Touden. 

Most horrific, he claims, was the obvious erection in king Laios’ loose trousers.

ENTRY 3 - YEAR 516. CITIZENS’ CONCERN.

I am at my wits end with my king.

If he’s going to be indecent he shouldn’t stand on the balcony. He shouldn’t have stood there like a dolt with an open, billowing shirt with loose ties whisping in the wind. 

Many people came at me and said they were appalled, and I cannot blame them. 

Many accounts at the same time repeating the same thing in my ears:

King Laios was in a state of sorry dress. King Laios was clutching the rail, hurled over the edge in disarray. King Laios was red in the face.

Hair tousled. Mouth agape with the most ghoulish, animalistic noises hissing out. And a few of the more curious folk said they spotted the wheatfield golden hair from his flexing stomach downward his groin. Most obviously, he was receiving fellatio. 

And most terribly, two from the group said it appeared his fingers were tangled into overly familiar hair. The hair upon the youngest Touden’s head.

He was pulling and lulling, cooing down at an unseen face -- flushed and sweaty and drooling onto the soft protrusions of his hips. Those two could spot fingertips trailing up his sensitive thighs; even teasing up his stomach -one of the pair claimed they saw the ambiguous hand tweak his nipple.  

Apparently, king Laios was in such pleasure he was calling aloud wantonly, and he was singing the worst name possible. I’m sure they misheard it. I’m sure even my infamously awkward and bizarre king isn’t that away with society. 

Laios cannot be demented enough to have his cock sucked by his own sibling on the public balcony.

ENTRY 4 - I SAW IT MYSELF!

I’ve prayed for the strength and resilience to defend my king.

And yet he disappoints me as though the act is his lifeblood. As though he must act on this disheartening cycle just to torture me.

I’ve seen it now, with my own terrible eyes. I was a fool and I came into the king’s chambers early morning without announcement. 

A terrible thing to see is my king’s bare skin -- his back is broad and stretched over two legs tied around his waist. I could hear the moans and growls of ecstacy so vividly and I could see his visitor’s nails painting pink lines all down his skin. I could see telltale violet lovebites swelling to life. His name was bouncing off the walls violently, croaked and stressed with every tense of the legs thrown over Laios. And Laios bent down to swallow every cry, tonguing even more free with each kiss -- it was desperate and pathetic and almost enviable in pure passion.

Until I saw the face he was kissing -who the hole he was fucking belonged to.

They threw themselves upon him, arms laced around his neck, and it was the single person I was trying to deny Laios of this whole time. 

The youngest Touden. Wailing their own brother’s name -begging for more and harder and faster. 

Now I’m a witness; I cried in terror, shrieking for them to stop, and they did not. As if neither of them heard my call whatsoever. It was sloppy and desperate, no rhythm -I shudder to think they might’ve been at their ends upon having an audience.

I pray they learn more discretion. 

And I fucking hate Laios.

[misseviehyde]

SHADOWS

My ex-boyfriend James is sooooo fucking weak and pathetic. I hate and despise him with every part of my soul. He is everything that is wrong with men these days. Indecisive, overly sensitive, small and pathetic. What a fucking loser.

His twin brother Jason by comparison is a God. He is the man I now desire. Once I despised and hated Jason, but now he is everything I seek in a man. Tall, strong, rich, dominant... he makes me so fucking wet. My new boyfriend is a total Alpha. The longer I stay around him the more feminine I feel. I love what he does to me.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me explain how this all started...

Once I was the nerdiest girl at school. It seems insane to say it now, given how popular I am, but there was a time when I couldn't name six fashion designers or contour my makeup or suck off three boys at once in the cheerleaders locker room. I was a fucking loser.

Terrible skin, flat chested, nerdy glasses and goofy teeth. No. I was once plain little Melanie. I even had ginger hair. No wonder everyone bullied me. Popular rich bitch Madison didn't even exist. I was a fucking nobody.

My life consisted of science fairs, anime and role-playing games. Not the fun role playing games where you dress as a sexy school girl and get railed by a hot guy... no... the loser ones where you pretend to be an elf.

To my shame I was even into LARPIng. Live action role play. Each Friday night, me, James, Jason and our other buddies would go into the local woods to play.

We would run around the woods pretending to be on adventures. Fuckkkk it was so pathetic, I feel a major ick just thinking about it.

Jason wasn't the God he would later become at this point. He and James basically looked the same. I don't know why I had chosen James as my boyfriend. I guess he was slightly more confident and had asked me out first. He and Jason basically looked and acted the same though. Many people couldn't even tell them apart. Even me sometimes.

Then Jason found the shadow and everything changed.

As part of our role playing experience we sometimes brought props along and Jason had found this creepy looking glass bottle in a charity shop. It was opaque and stoppered with a wax cork. Perhaps it held a liquid of some kind? Sometimes it looked like there was something dark swirling inside, but it was kind of hard to tell.

We needed a prop to represent an evil demon that was trapped in a bottle so Jason had brought out the bottle.

As usual the group had split up. It was dark now and I was on my own. I had on my favourite druid costume (ughhh so fucking fugly) and I was creeping through the woods under the moonlight.

Suddenly I saw Jason through a gap in the trees. He was on his own too and carrying the bottle. I headed towards him, he hadn't seen me... in fact he wasn't really paying proper attention to his surroundings, which is maybe why he suddenly tripped over a tree root.

The bottle span from his hands and smashed against the ground with a musical tinkle.

I had a perfect view of everything. Jason was lit by the moonlight, his scrawny body shivering and his eyes wide with fear as a rolling mass of black shadows erupted from the smashed bottle and flowed towards him.

I wanted to scream but my voice had left me and I could only put my hands to my mouth like a parody of some dumb anime girl as the shadows flowed into Jason. Black smoke forced its way down his throat, into his nose. It wrapped and enveloped him, melting and merging into his body.

Then it was gone.

But the scene was not over.

Jason let out a cry, or maybe it was a moan. I watched in horrified fascination (and now I'm happy to admit a little bit or arousal) as I watched him change. Jason... my God... was being born.

Muscles rippled and swelled under his skin, causing his shirt to rip and his fantasy style breeches to bulge. He tore his top off to reveal a rippling six back and toned muscles as his skin flowed like wax and he changed and transformed. He grew taller and bigger, more handsome too as his face became more masculine and his hair cut more stylish.

Grunting and grinning Jason ripped off his pathetic role playing costume and stretched confidently. He was entirely naked now and I gasped in arousal as I saw his magnificent ass and his perfect cock. As I watched it was growing. Ten inches of thick white meat now hung between his huge thighs and I almost salivated as I beheld his perfect manly body.

Jason confidently stretched his body, clearly enjoying how it felt. He grinned perfect white teeth and his eyes, once mild and nerdy shone with ambition and dark desire. He clicked his fingers and there was a wisp of smoke as a stylish black shirt and designer jeans encased his new perfect body. He now looked like a male super model and he strode off through the woods chuckling, leaving me breathing heavily and wondering if I was losing my mind.

***

I ran through the woods. Back then I was ungainly and lacking athletic ability. Whereas now I hit the gym daily and can bend into nearly any position (especially when fucking) I was a fucking loser, so I made quite the noise as I crashed through the trees.

James and the others soon found me and I garbled what I'd seen, but they all thought I was still role playing.

"Babe, it's a cool story, but one detail that doesn't work. My stuck up bullying brother doesn't play with us. He thinks we're losers."

I gawped at James. I thought he was joking at first, but as we spoke it became clear he was serious. The shadow had changed Jason, but it also seemed to have changed everyone's memories of him.

I had no idea why I hadn't been affected. perhaps because I had witnessed his transformation directly or something.

James and the others couldn't understand why I was so upset and worried. The shadow had looked evil and I was worried my boyfriends brother was now under the control of something wicked. I decided I'd have to confront Jason directly and see if I could aid him, so I told the others I felt sick and left to go immediately to James and Jason's house.

James started after me, but I quickly lost him in the woods. I didn't want him to see what had happened to his brother. I was sure I could find a way to save Jason.

Haha, what a fucking idealistic moron I used to be.

***

I arrived at Jason's to find the house had changed. There was now a pickup parked at the front and the house was larger and clearly more expensive. Entering the house I found it was better decorated and I nearly had a heart attack as I entered the kitchen to find Jame's Mom and Dad.

Michael, the Dad was now a handsome looking business man wearing an expensive suit. Linda, James Mom had transformed from a homesy kind Mom into a haughty and beautiful MILF. She looked stunning!

Neither of them paid me much attention, they clearly recognised me as James girlfriend. The sneer and look of disgust Linda gave me left me cold. I can't blame her. Linda is now a major icon to me and we are the BEST of friends. She loves me like a daughter and I've learned so much about manipulating and using men from her. But back then I was a dork dating her loser son James.

But that was soon about to change.

I found Jason in a room I'd never seen before. A personal gym.

He was stripped to the waist, his muscles rippling as he pumped iron. He turned and grinned at me as I entered.

"Well well well. My brothers dork girlfriend? What the hell do you want Melanie?"

"I saw everything Jason. I saw that weird shadow enter you. We have to get it out of you. What have you done to your Mom and Dad? This isn't right."

Jason grinned. "Ahhhh. So you saw it? So you remember the old me? Haha you have no idea Melanie. No idea how good this feels. The shadow within me hungers for power and pleasure. It serves no other purpose but to give me what I want. It can change things, people too. Anything that falls under my shadow can be twisted to serve my whim. I am a fucking God now."

I watched nervously as black shadows seemed to spread around Jason as he spoke. The air rippled with potential and a cold numb feeling spread through my body and my soul. Jason grinned as the light seemed to be sucked out of the room and I was drowning in darkness.

"You could be so much more Melanie. You're such a fucking dork, just like my pathetic brother. I always wanted you to be MY girlfriend and now I have this power you can join me. I won't force you, I want you to join me willingly. A taste of this power and I think you'll want more."

I gasped falling to my knees as the shadows surrounded me. All the warmth and kindness and love inside me was suddenly numbed. It was like the shadow was feeding on my positive emotions... perhaps it was.

The dark shadows enveloped and wrapped my nerdy body. Tempting whispers invaded my mind and I felt Jason's presence beating down on me and willing me to give in. The shadow wanted to change and corrupt me, but it would only do so if I wanted it to. Jason hadn't lied.

I don't know if you've ever been offered something so fucking delicious and perfect that even if it came at the cost of your soul you'd jump at the chance... but when that moment finally arrives, it's pretty hard not to succumb.

I'd seen what the shadow had done to Jason. It had turned him into the perfect example of masculine perfection. It could probably do the same for me, but make me the ultimate girl. All I had to do was let it in and surrender to the darkness.

I'd seen girls in magazines, on TV, on teenage drama programs. I'd always wondered how it would feel to be a Queen Bee... a head cheerleader type. What must it be like to be so pretty you can get whatever you want? How would it feel to be a bitch?

"Yes... change me," I groaned. "But only a little... I just want to be a little prettier."

I gasped as my body suddenly ached and I felt the shadows begin to change me. I ripped my dorky glasses off and felt my brace snap as I spat out the metal to leave perfect white teeth. My red hair turned a sexy black and my pale spotty skin tanned as my body toned.

It felt so fucking good.

"Don't you want more Melanie? Don't you want to become a real fucking bitch? If it feels this good to go a little of the way, why not let the shadows take you all the way?"

Jason had a point. The more I transformed the more I wanted to transform. As I felt myself become more popular and beautiful, the further I found I wanted to go.

"Yessss mmmmore," I gasped feeling the shadows pour down my throat and into my body. I could feel Jason in my mind now, his fingers manipulating my pleasure receptors and his thoughts becoming my own.

"That's right Melanie. You don't want to be a dweeb anymore. You want to go all the way. You want to be a fucking bitch. Say it."

I shuddered as delicious throbs of pleasure pulsed through my body. "I... mmmmmh, ohhh yes, I want to be a bitch."

"That's right Melanie. Let's picture a girl. Let's call her Madison. She's everything you want to be isn't she? Thin, pretty, bratty and spoiled. She's the kind of girl that has a new outfit every day, that all the other girls bow down to. I want you imagine how hot she looks. Nice tits, a toned body, ultra-feminine body language. So different to the dork you are. Are you picturing her?"

I was picturing her. I was thinking of every mean bad girl and bitch I had ever know in real life or in the movies. I was picturing Madison and boy was she fucking hot.

"Now say it. Say you want to be Madison. You want to be the bullying popular Alpha girl."

My pussy was wet, my already partially transformed body felt so good. I needed more... I needed the shadows to corrupt me completely.

"Yessss I want to be Madison."

I screamed and orgasmed as I said it, feeling the shadows flowing into me and destroying Melanie forever. All the kind gentle nice parts of me were consumed and the shadows pumped me full of evil, mean bratty thoughts.

Melanie died in that instant and I... Madison... took control.

Long bitchy nails shot out from my fingers. My face became meaner and even prettier, soft pouty lips curving into a bratty grin. My clothing became designer, my handbag expensive and my personality became that of a spoiled rich bitch.

Reality rippled and changed. Only Jason and I would remember the old me. It was as if Melanie had never existed and only I had been born.

The shadows withdrew, but they left their mark. I was a fucking evil bitch now, devoid of mercy. I only cared about myself... oh and Jason of course.

"How do you feel baby?" he grinned, towering over me in his Adonis body.

"I feel amazing baby," I grinned. "In fact I want to thank you for being the best boyfriend ever."

I giggled and sank eagerly to my knees. My long nails looked so hawt as I unzipped Jason's fly and his huge ten inch dick flopped out.

Moaning I began to pump and suck his cock. This was who and what I worshipped now. Jason had taken me from that loser James.

"Yesssss, good girl," grunted Jason as he put his hands gently on my head and pushed me deeper onto his cock. "You're my slutty bitch now and I have everything I ever wanted."

I just gagged and gargled happily, I fucking loved my man's big cock.

I couldn't wait for him to cum. I needed to taste it...

***

And so that is how I ascended from being a fucking pathetic loser into a Goddess myself. Jason is the Master of the Shadow and so long as he holds that power I am his willing accomplice.

Soon after the transformation James came home. He no longer remembered I had ever been his girl, but that didn't stop me and Jason fucking loudly next door and laughing about the little simp jerking off in his room next door.

I felt so evil and perfect. Being Madison was like a perpetual state of orgasm. The meaner and nastier I was, the better it all felt.

Sometimes I wondered what would have happened if James had smashed that bottle instead of Jason? Perhaps he would be the Alpha stud with the delicious bitchy girlfriend.

But it was just idle speculation. The shadows answered to Jason...

And I answered only to the shadows now.

THE END

[neoyorzapoteca]

CH: My parents have often told me that I am “overly sensitive,” and perhaps I am, but I think sensitivity does not necessarily equate to weakness. Instead, I think of it as the ability to finely tune into one’s interior landscape—to examine its features, feel its textures, and to question its weathering form. Unfortunately, I don’t think the world is particularly kind towards sensitive people, just like the world isn’t especially kind towards vulnerable people. The question for me then becomes: How do I counteract the cruelty of the world without simultaneously hiding or erasing a part of my being? Maybe one answer is love.

Christine Shan Shan Hou and Elaine Kahn on Writing Poetry

[a-d-nox]

nox tests hypotheses: "saturn tells you what annoys you"

this is one of shawtyherbs hypotheses. this is how i feel this manifests for me in my chart and why i believe this hypothesis works. my saturn is located in my 3h, in taurus at 29°... let's take deep dive!

taurus saturn

a lack of discipline: i feel like i have a strong work ethic - i value hard work. i despised when i did group work in school and i was paired up with procrastinators or people who were unwilling to put in the necessary effort to achieve a good grade. it felt like every time i had my part done i would start getting anxious that the other person/people didn't. it felt like a manipulation - like we were playing chicken. if they didn't do it, would i do it for them? how long did they have to wait until i stepped in?

instability and unpredictability: sudden changes, chaotic environments, and erratic behavior can make me uncomfortable, anxious, and annoyed. i guess it's sort of like a trauma response from childhood except now i get irritable... everyone know my dislike for surprises.

wastefulness: i get easily irritated by wastefulness, whether it's wasting time, money, or resources. again maybe its from my childhood and having those experiences. but i am the type of person who arrives on time. if i buy something and don't like it i use it until it's gone, i eat it til its gone (even if its stale), or i use it til its paid itself off (if i buy a shirt and can't return it and it was $30, i am wearing it 30 times). it sounds strange - i know - but it is how i am...

superficiality: i really value authenticity. i feel like i am easily annoyed by superficial behavior, materialism without substance, and people who put on mask to fit in... like so what if you don't laugh at someone's shit joke, so what if i am happy with my hydroflask and want nothing to do with a stanley (it's all the same to me), and who cares if your true self is not everyone's favorite (you'll find your people a whole lot faster if you're your self).

resisting practicality: you know how much advice i have given throughout the years THAT WAS ASKED FOR and people did what they wanted anyway??? why even waste my time if you don't want outside perspective. or something its just kind advice to help with ease like hi you are using a stain on the deck, i recommend you wipe as you go so it dries quicker and you don't accidentally smear/smudge later. but nooooo.....

saturn at 29°

arrogance: you know it's okay to be wrong... it's not okay to pontificate about how you were right in some alternate scenario. just admit you were wrong in this situation and move on or better yet say nothing...

irresponsibility: when you say you are going to do something do it. if you are a leader then lead and know that you are responsible for anything you designate to someone you view as your subordinate (especially when you don't train them on what you want them to do for you). if you can't commit to having a task or being in charge than don't do it. someone is relying on you - it's 10 times worse when its yourself and you push goals to the side.

unfounded claims/criticisms: perhaps i am overly sensitive to criticism because i tend to take my work and my self a bit too seriously. but if you can't take yourself and what you do seriously, then who will? i take everything personally too. so when i get criticism and its said in a nasty way (at least how i interpret it) or there is a lack of explanation or no backing i will get annoyed. you bet my humor will be ill-tempered... you can't expect me to react well to a comment like "you're wrong". like wow okay so detailed, i'm glad you decided to write one word and a contraction to dismiss my 2k essay. like if you are going to criticize me or disprove me make it detailed and make it sound. and if i do something wrong its probably because no one told me how to do it in the first place (cough cough work) so don't snap at me, walk me through it.

lack of respect: now listen - i'm no angel, i was a teenager once - eyerolls and all. but now that i am a bit older (she said at 23) i am getting to the point where respect isn't freely given (unless its to build a good first impression) but instead its earned in a pre-existing relationship. i don't tolerate disrespect, no one is going to snap at me and tell me what to do. you do that and you will get the opposite reaction that you expect from me (speaking from real life situations). asserting dominance doesn't make you worthy of respect, it makes you a bully.

3h

superficial conversations: i said it why back when in one of my get to know me posts. i prefer deep, meaningful conversations and i find small talk / superficial chatter frustrating or pointless. like skip to the meat bruv - we don't have all this time for "hi how are you?" "good how are you?"

disorganization: a lack of structure, whether in communication, in a learning environments, or my daily routines, irritates me. i feel like it effects me most in the routine bit. weekends are my prime culprit because my schedule falls apart. during the week my meals and tasks are standardized, but on the weekend, i somehow manage to always get annoyed because i eat lunch late or what i had in my mind to do gets tossed aside...

gossip/rumors: i feel uncomfortable with gossip, i prefer facts and reliable knowledge. which i know facts seems shaky when i am posting the content i do... but generally facts over fiction in conversations. gossip and the like almost always gets me in trouble - i struggle with holding my tongue especially when i see someone regularly who has been gossiped about frequently. withholding information is a form of lying in my opinion - and lying makes me extremely uncomfortable.

impulsive decisions: i am trying to get better about this because i tend to carefully deliberate everything. but i don't like when others around me make impulsive decisions that effect me because it ruins the plan i already had in my mind. for example, last weekend i wanted to go to an all day fall festival with my mother (and yes i told her tuesday my plan) but last minute my mother's boyfriend-not-boyfriend said he needed her help with a project and it was going to be an all weekend thing. so friday night my plan went out the window. so quickly had to make a new plan consisting of paid readings, trader joe's, and shampooing my couch (fun stuff i know...).

a lack of respect for rules/boundaries: a disregard for social norms, etiquette, and established rules of communication annoys me so badly. like it is common courtesy (at least for how i was raised) to call or write in advance of stopping over at someone's house. my mother's boyfriend-not-boyfriend is the biggest perpetrator of this behavior. they aren't technically dating anymore so hello hi in my opinion he should be giving us a heads up if he will be stopping over. also switching gears when i say "no" or "i don't want to" i feel like a lot of people around me push me and test me to see if i will change my tune. i don't appreciate that in the slightest. i make clear boundaries in all the relationships i have (even here i have guidelines) - so yes, you bet i get frustrated when i vocalized or wrote my boundaries and yet they get ignored.

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[alexanderlightweight]

Happy Wednesday! Hope you're having a good week.

I'm currently doing a ton of gardening and trying to get lots of flowers to grow from seeds. So, for a prompt, something with Alec or Magnus planning gardens, maybe for each other. Or anything garden or plant related.

Thank you!

thank you! it... omg its pretty much Wednesday. fuck I feel like I can finally breathe a little. tomorrow is a crazy busy morning but ITS WEDNESDAY! hope you are having a good week!

i am so happy okay, I only just realized that. it's been super busy. its been a bit but I hope your gardening did well? and that is is doing well again this year?

i hope you enjoy this, inspired by gardening and the obsessive amount of pollen we're dealing with

<3 lumine

-

in his wake petals fall

Alec sneezes and then hurriedly stops breathing so as to not provoke another.

Several feet away Magnus has paused from where he’s lovingly tending to a very beautiful new pot of flowers.

The minor stiffening of his shoulders finally untenses the longer the silence last and finally, he goes back to what he was doing.

Alec waits a minute longer, gratefully inhales and then mentally sighs as he sneezes the very next moment.

“I knew it!.” Magnus turns with fury and his fingers have already snapped, no doubt either banishing the plant from existence or to Ragnor’s garden — which is close enough to the former that it still counts. “You are allergic!”

“I’m sensitive.” Alec counters, because he is not going to let Magnus get away with this assumption. Magnus is not taking away an entire genus of flowers simply because Alec sneezes over pollen being directly blown in his face. “You didn’t have to get rid of it.”

Magnus huffs, as if it’s conceivable to even consider keeping the plant.

As if it were the plants fault that Alec is allergic to some demonic species just by merit of his own nephilim heritage.

“And Cat is making me that potion, remember. So that it won’t be a problem much longer.” Alec’s not sure if it’s the reminder that Cat has a solution, Alec fluttering his lashes at Magnus or the fact that Alec will actually be sad about this that does it.

—-

Magnus sighs, because perhaps Alexander has made a point or two and also because his darling is pouting at him with a very sad face and as cute as it is, Magnus still hates to see it.

“Of course, darling. You’re right. I’ll simply put the rest of this batch under a ward then, shall I?”

Alexander — being brilliant as he usually is — immediately backs away and far from range so that the pollen won’t further attack him.  Therefore, Magnus won’t be forced to defend his husband with fire and then make his lovely boy sad because he destroyed the rest of the plants they bought together.

There’s no hope for the one Magnus exiled to Ragnor’s.

Done with that, Magnus is about to join Alexander when the breeze picks up as he steps out of the wardline and Alexander sneezes... while facing Magnus.

“It’s the pollen, not you.”

As sweet as that is, it really doesn’t make Magnus feel any better as he first magically purifies himself and then quickly walks to the large outdoor shower that he and Alexander designed together.

“No, I’ll only be a moment, petal.” Magnus shoos his Alexander away, letting the vines gather to keep his darling far enough away so as to not be exposed.

Alexander’s outraged expression before the ivy covers the opening is charming, but alas Magnus knows exactly how poorly Alexander responds to long term exposure.

No amount of Alexander’s tempting visage will induce him to change his mind. However there is less of a chance if Magnus can’t see his face.

Even if showering alone is rather lonely.

AN:

Magnus and the plants have a war going on. if they hurt Alec, they're out.

Alec and the plants have a secret understanding that Alec tries hard not to let Magnus know when one of the plants hurts him.

Magnus and Alec overly love each other the everything else suffers except Alec also suffers a little but that's fair because sometimes he won't let Magnus join him for decontamination showers either.

[thewritetofreespeech]

Tressym can be Fickle

WORDS: 692 RATING: G PAIRING: Gale x Tav SUMMARY: based on a very real arguement between my husband & I on who our cat likes more.

It had been a long, arduous, grueling day at the academy.

Though Gale loved his new role as a professor and educator, teaching the young minds of witches & wizards all across Faerun to harness their magic, induction week was the worst. He felt his life was in less peril fighting the Elder Brain or any of their other enemies & cohorts along the Sword Coast than he was now. Testing the new inductees to file them accordingly to their skill. ‘Skill’ being a very loose word tossed around this week.

He returned home that evening with a heavy sigh through the door, an even heavier thud of his satchel filled with books, and a desperate need to be tended to by his spouse. The whole day had been about soothing the egos, feelings, and on occasion literal wounds of new students that Gale thought he deserved some tending to now.

“Tav?” He called out as he put his cloak away. Usually, they greeted him at the door. Or at least acknowledged him when he came home. Curious, Gale walked through the house to try and find them. His search not long as he came upon Tav in the living room. On the couch by a low fire, with Tara on their lap. “Well….don’t you two look cozy.”

“Hmm, we rather are Mr. Dekarios.” Tara agreed. “Or at least we were, until someone started shouting.”

“Apologies for shouting in my own house.” Gale snipped at Tara. Taking his own plush armchair across from them. “Since when did you become a lap cat? And, before you get too ruffled under the feathers, it’s a figure of speech.”

Tara hummed. Seeming to debate about not letting it go but was perhaps indeed to comfortable to make a fuss. “Very recently I suppose. I never had an interest until now.” The tressym purred with her eyes closed as she tilted her head up towards Tav and her head scratches.

“You never took an interest with me.” Gale said with a deep frown.

“You do not have nails, Mr. Dekarios.”

The wizard growled and stood up. Unable to watch his dearest friend and lover betray him like this in front of his own eyes. It was still early for dinner but he stalked off towards the kitchen to focus his frustrations on what to eat.

A few moments later, Tav came in. Looking confused on why he was so upset. “Sorry.” He apologized quickly. “It’s just been a long day. And I am glad that you and Tara are getting along now. Guess I’m being….overly sensitive at being shut out. Tressym can be fickle, but I’ve never known Tara to change her mind about anyone. Again, not that I’m not pleased you two are getting along. I just never thought I would suddenly be second in her estimation.”

“Suddenly second? Please Mr. Dekarios.” The couple turned to see Tara trot in. Seeming interested in their conversation. “I wouldn’t say that you were suddenly second. Not given my high esteem of your mother. A better estimate is which one of you is second on the day, and who is third.”

“Really Tara? Kick a man while he’s down??”

“But, I’m a reasonable creature. Perhaps my estimations can be over swayed. Perhaps with a bit of chicken? Fried pigeons if you have any?”

“So a creature of reason but not honor, eh?” Gale stated, with a wave of his hand as if he wish to brush away this whole conversation.

Before he could leave, Tav wrapped their arms around his waist. Pulling him close. The smell of their hair in his nose. Something like ���you’ll always be number 1 to me’ muffled into his chest, which causes him to smile and hold them back.

They tell Gale to go upstairs and relax. Take a bath if he liked, while they made dinner. That sounded heavenly, so he did just that.

When he came back down, he was not amused by the roast chicken on his plate. Nor the grinning little tressym in the corner, licking her chops like she’d just swallowed a canary. Or, perhaps, her bribery chicken.

[riewritten]

FOR ALL THAT WAS DEPRIVED

ERWIN SMITH X FEM!READER, ERWIN SMITH X YOU, NO Y/N

TAGS: canon AU, porn without plot (proceed with caution!), lots of fucking?, yearning (like feral yearning), fluff & smut, cunnilingus, multiple positions, cumshot (hehe), missionary, cowgirl, love marks, feral feral feral gentleman in heat idk!, gentle erwin smith or so he planned because well... u are just so lovely! is it his fault that he had always wanted u so carnally just as he wanted to shower you with love? no, not at all :)

WORDS: 4.3k (yes it was fucking long for a pwp fic. but i was nervous back then ok.)

thought of sharing the first ever smut i've ever written. like the first of firsts. if u perhaps knew where i made this then shh. it's our dirty little secret.

"Bed, please. Let's take this to bed."

He showered your face with wet kisses and nibbled your lower ear as if to reward you for shamelessly unveiling your long-standing desperation. "You'll let me take care of you there? Hm?"

"Yes," you writhed under him, breathless, hot, ticklish, among many other feelings caused by his smothering of love, "yes I will, please?"

You don’t even need to beg but he's still disgustingly gratified hearing that. He grabbed your hips and ushered you up so he could carry you all the way. You clung to him just well, thigh wrapped around him and your arms hugging his neck tightly. He ended up throwing you on the bed quite harshly that he got taken aback himself. You chortled as he leaned his weight on top of you, cupped your head with both hands, then muttered soft apologies.

"How rare it is to see you lose your cool, Commander."

"Tch, you have no idea how patient I am being until now," Erwin chuckled, slightly ashamed. As swift as ever, his face turned serious with a command. "Clothes. Off."

So you did, albeit in a rush. His voice sounded like an order and you’re secretly drawn to it even if you don’t like being commanded by him on a daily basis. He might also flaunt his existing patience but you don't have any of it left in you. You unclasped your bra along the way then urgently raised his shirt up to make this faster. He followed suit with amusement, and the sight of his bare body made you shiver. He looks like a sculpture.

"How rare it is to see you lose your cool," he shot back.

"Savor what you did to me, Commander," you muttered in annoyance as you attempted to remove his pants. He helped you through it. Leaving his boxers alone, he gave you a sweet smile as if taking pride in what you just said then pushed you down for a messy kiss again. You let out a breathy moan as soon as his fingers brushed on your now hardened nipples. Placed wet kisses on your neck down until he reached your chest, gave a peck on your sternum, and glided his tongue on your left tit while playing with the other one.

He was successful, really. You've barely even started yet your subtle hums are overflowing already just like how he wanted. For you, however, it was quite frustrating. You were never this sensitive towards your previous partners. Even if it's quite a given since you never established emotional attachment towards them, you only did this kind of thing because you heard how it could satiate emptiness temporarily. Needless to say, it wasn't effective, and what you're doing right now is way far from that agenda. Now you realize why you're overly and easily flustered with this matter when Erwin's in the picture.

He noticed you're trying to tone it down so kept up with it. With your nipple popping out of his mouth, he slid his hand towards your clothed core and released a pleased hum upon feeling how wet it was already. It went on for a while until you got desperate to hump yourself with his digits.

"Finally not shy now?" he cooed, rubbing it in teasing motions.

"Erwin," you moaned, cupping his cheek messily. Your body is finally getting something deprived of it for very, very long, and you're not in the mood to tease around. "I've been–I–" he encouraged you to say more by showering your chest with wet kisses, "I feel like I've been waiting for more than a lifetime for this. Please–" Then his eyes shot open at the desperation, quite enthralled that you felt just the way he did. "Mhm, you are too, right? So could you please take me now?"

Right, you are. His mind then throbbed in satisfaction. His cold fingers slid to your core swiftly, gently, and maintained the motion for a while; eager to give you whatever you want if not more.

Out of all the years he had lived this life, this was one moment he felt genuinely happy he existed. And you deserve everything for making him feel like that.

All of a sudden, he withdrew his fingers from your heat and you looked down in confusion. But then he quickly, and almost harshly, dragged down all the garments left in your body. You're now bare before him but unlike earlier, you're not in any way shy. You want to receive everything he’s willing to give. With a pleading look, you weakly asked him to come back to his work.

Erwin slowly crawled above you again; tapping his finger on your clit, "How do you want me to do this tonight?" Even if it sounded playful in some way, it was a genuine question.

Assuming he's messing around, you whined in frustration. "Seriously, I want to be fucked dumb tonight. Don't make me point out obvious things, Erwin."

It made him laugh. He leaned in to kiss your forehead and inserted his middle finger inside, "No, it was an honest question. I want to make this good for you."

"But you make everything feel good," you murmured, relishing the feeling of being stretched inside. His digits are broad after all.

You urged him to go on, hence he continuously motioned hither inside you while his thumb skillfully played around your clit. Relishing the pleasure and willing to welcome more, you played on your nipples messily. When the slicking sounds became louder he inserted the second one and rolled the digits in circular motions. Apart from how good he’s doing you, he’s actually quite nervous himself. Perhaps he might do it too hard, or you might’ve experienced something way better before, and all sorts of reluctance. But your reactions – voice quivering, hips stuttering, your back arching – filled him with such a warm, trembling feeling and he was immensely drunk to it. 

After a while, he stopped, knelt up, and looked at the sinful mess he's made out of you with. It’s needless to say that you were down for good. The sight was glorious for him, utterly. When you thought he was about to finally let himself bare, he held on to your hips instead and raised that up to push it towards you. As he leaned down, he wrapped your legs on his shoulders and settled himself in between your legs. 

Delving his tongue into you and tasting your wetness, he let out a gratified grunt. He brought back his wonders with his fingers as he lapped you up all the while maintaining eye contact; eager to see how you’d take him as he ravished you the way he imagined it. Your hands messily gripped everything – his pillows, mattress, even your hair – and eventually tightened your legs around him to buck on his tongue.

As he felt your walls fluttering around his fingers and your release hanging on the precipice, his motion sped up while his spare hand rested on your abdomen.

“That’s it–hah, please don’t stop–” you stuttered, your moans in crescendo; and he hummed through it just well, encouraging you to come. Not too long after, you grabbed onto his head to bury him below, making him breathe momentarily the least of your concerns. With your back arching and muttering helpless mewls of his name, you came undone.

He rode through your orgasm, continuously lapping on you until you tapped on his head, “Too much, ‘s too much. Please, ‘Win."

You heard him chuckle before letting go; nibbling on your inner thigh for a moment with a smug look on his face as if to say I did that. Only I could. When he knelt back again he let out a satisfied sigh, wiped up his face coated with your fluid, and sucked on the fingers he just used to ravage you. He licked it clean, deliberately swirling his tongue for you to see. Despite the crippling fluster, you weren't able to look away, you're rather getting wet over it instead.

His fingers left his mouth with a soft pop, “Tastes good."

The embarrassment came back to you but you’re still aching to have more. “Come here,” you pleaded and he immediately complied, cupping your face gently. He held you like you're his dearest person in this hell of a world, and you have no idea how could his touches say that much.

However, when you thought he was going for a kiss, he tapped his digits on your mouth instead, “Open.” Another stern order that you followed very willingly. He pushed his index and middle fingers past your mouth and you welcomed it by sucking on them, appeased by what he just did to you. You almost choked on it as he thrust his fingers full on your throat. Still, you hollow your cheeks on it, licking every spot fervently and humming with pleasure to rile him up. “Yeah, that's right," he purred. "Such a good lady for me.” He then suddenly replaced his fingers with his tongue, relishing your mouth and eager to prove to you how good you really tasted.

When he withdrew from the messy lip play, you blurted out, “Can you praise me again?”

You quickly realized what you just said and how you said it. What was that? You almost laughed at yourself.

Erwin raised his brows and snickered, “Am I not praising you enough?”

You stayed silent even after he peppered you with kisses, seemingly holding your squeal of shame.

"Getting shy again, hm? Talk to me, pretty girl.”

“Don’t know where it came from. My mind’s in shambles. Thank you for fucking me dumb tonight.”

“But I’m not doing that yet,” he let it out very endearingly, in stark contrast with his eyes lacing with mischievous glint. His finger flicked on your clit again. “This won’t be settled with this, don’t you think? You’ve waited more than a lifetime, after all.” Such a menacing smile and so you realized: Right, I might be knocked unconscious tonight. He motioned his digits in circular motions.

“I, uh–“ To lessen your stuttering, you gripped his shoulders instead. "I actually said that out of a whim. I never got this sensitive over someone before," you let out a breathy sigh. "My body’s reacting to you differently, Erwin. Am I the only one who feels like this?”

“No,” he landed a wet kiss on your neck, sucked on it, and released it like a pop. That would indeed mark. “But I don't just feel like it, and I believe I waited longer."

You were relieved, “Since when?”

“Since you entered the regiment and introduced yourself to me,” he abruptly inserted his finger inside your cunt then rolled it inside, “–that smile.”

“Fuck, god–” you shuddered, “t–that long?”

“Yeah, that long. I was just a jerk.”

“Better late than never but if you’re not doing that yet, then please do it now."

His heart swelled. This was more than enough, indeed. You might be time-deprived to explore this intimacy, have excruciating dilemmas that could break you off, tons of predicament perceived as a threat, and anguish that are not very easy to handle. Amidst all, your love and desperation overpowered the worries. You broke off every single wall Erwin had built for decades. You broke it off by loving him in way that's longer than your life could ever be.

He removed his digit inside and then made his way to remove the garment left in him, “You’re shifting from ashamed to blunt, pretty thing. Choose one.”

“I really am choosing to be blunt. I just get hit by it from time to time," you sat up to help him. "But okay, to project the boldness again–" but were cut off when he laughed loudly. Shooting him a glare you exclaimed, "Shut up!"

Erwin, despite the struggle to tone down, doesn't want you to feel shy for the rest of the night, "Okay, continue." 

You dragged his boxers down impatiently and whined, “I want your dick inside me. Frantically ruin me until I knock out. Please.”

He was taken aback, he'll give you that, yet it was completely effective. His arousal spiked up way more than earlier.

When he finally got rid of his garment and his protuberance was completely shown before you, you started to doubt if you actually said the right thing. That would really ruin me. Sensing your reluctance just well, he gently laid you down again and raised your legs so he could line himself up.

"You’re not just blunt, you’re getting braver as well. But now that you told me to ruin you, why do you look like hesitating instead?” he taunted, sliding his dick up and down your wetness.

Heat pooled in your lower back, “I’m not. I–” you thrust up to have more friction, “I trust you. You’ll do me well, right?”

“I will,” he concurred sweetly and motioned nearer to you. Cupping your cheeks, he whispered. “Breathe deeply, love.” So you did, and he slowly pushed himself in. Gently, inch by inch, studying your face all throughout. You were whimpering in pain, closing your eyes tight upon feeling the sharp sting, and he’s peppering you with gentle kisses for comfort.

He’s not bottomed out yet you’re already close to crying. Still, you tried. You don’t want to stop. You don’t want him to feel like he’s doing badly. You don’t want to– 

 “‘S okay, ‘s okay. Relax.” he cut your rampant thoughts off with his coos. “I’ll make it fit. Just keep on breathing deeply, okay?”

You clung to his shoulder, letting out your mewls, “I’m sorry, I… don’t want you to think we should stop–”

“We won’t," he nuzzled his lips through your hair, “Unless you tell me so–ah, that’s it, you’re doing great.” then sighed, completely sunk down inside you. He let you get used to the feeling first, just looking at you tenderly without moving. His thumb circled on your clit again to make the process bearable, and eventually, pleasurable. After a while, you opened your eyes again with a smile and small thanks, “Please move.”

Erwin did and he muttered little curses under his breath. You’re tightly squeezing on him and he had to grip his free hand on the mattress to have a sense of control. He was quite overwhelmed. Your scent, tiny sighs, the look of affection, and the way you’re being gorgeously considerate of him – he’s on the precipice of losing control, one more sensation then he’ll admit that both of you will be staying on this bed forever. He tried to speak little praises and comfort to you instead so he could distract himself but you started bucking your hips up.

Fuck.

His train of thought was utterly shaken that he only managed to let out strained hisses. Noting his sounds of pleasure, you reached his ear; sucking, nibbling, licking around, and he almost lost it. He needs to take you slowly but he’s losing it. Erwin almost laughed at himself.

“Am I doing great?” you asked as you finally earned a steady pace in rocking and thrusting. When he wasn’t able to answer, you withdrew your mouth to his ear, turned up to him, and cupped his cheeks, “Am I?” you repeated, searching for reactions.

Erwin mentally shook his head, finally admitting defeat to his sense of control and the tightening of his muscles. He gripped your hips and thrust hard, making you suck in a sharp breath. “Doing so well,” he lowly grunted then set the pace unrelentingly fast, almost lacking mercy, “–my prettiest soldier.” His digits played harsher on your clit.

That’s it, 

That’s it. 

You let out drawn-out moans and silly whispers. When the pleasure blurred your thoughts to even mind shame, you brought his head to your breast, urging him to trace his tongue on it. He sucked on it with pleasure, and the thumb that was swirling on your clit slid to the other nipple instead. Your instincts are drumming in your ears as his rhythm picks up. The way he’s massaging your inner walls with every thrust of his dick and the lewd slapping sounds of skin that comes along was making your head dissolve into oblivion.

Erwin was so immersed in it that he looked down to see the tainted mess himself. He grabbed your hand and landed it on your lower stomach, “Feel that?” he drawled as he continued pounding. You felt his cock marking it whenever he pushed inside. And as your mind was too fuzzy to even answer, you nodded relentlessly. “Is this what you waited for? Hm? Tell me, love.” His taunting etched every enjoyment he has in the sight of you too dumbed out to answer. 

As he felt himself reaching his peak, he pressed on your lower stomach to urge the coil in you to come out. And there it comes, you’re clenching harder than ever, thrashing around his length.

"Tight—hah—fuck, love," he rasped, "l-look at you, taking me in so–mhm—so nicely."

He was getting delirious, too, whispering sweet nothings; how good this is, how tight you are, how he's finally having all of you for himself. Your sounds are getting more and more obscene too, moaning a mixture of curse words and his name that he can't help but indulge himself through and give you more.

He lurches, continuously pounding and pounding until you’re trembling, milking on him for what he’s worth. He eventually pulled out, shooting his seed into your abdomen.

Then he dropped down. Fucked out. Leaning his weight into you with a sigh. He was too heavy that it could almost be classified as crushing you into pulp. The position went on for a while and instead of asking him to let you breathe, you start laughing at the sudden memory instead.

“Why?” he asked, his voice hushed and raspy. He’s nuzzled in your neck now, mindlessly nibbling on it.

“Isabel told me this a long time ago,” you giggled, "I feel guilty for remembering her this way."

"Bless her soul," Erwin chuckled, "but go on, what did she say?"

"That you could crush me into pulp if you wanted to. I told her I don’t think you’d want that but here you are.”

“Oh. Sorry.” he slightly got up and leaned on his elbows for support instead. “But why would she say that?”

“Because your build was intimidating,”

“Ah, that...” Isabel mocked him for his huge build plenty of times when she was still alive. Amidst her disdain, Erwin remembers her kindly. He scooted to lie down beside you, then brought your body to his embrace, “Were you intimidated as well?”

“I’m too engrossed avoiding your presence to mind how huge you are," you pondered, “but now I realized it was actually a good thing. I’d even thank you if you cracked my head with your muscles now.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I’m not kidding. Want me to tell you more?”

“No," he was holding a laugh.

“But it’s hot–”

“Stop.” 

“Actually it goes like thi–” he silenced you with a kiss and you chuckled through it. It went on for a while until he’s sure you're really shutting up. He nestled you further to him and both of you were silent for a while. “I was about to suggest we wash up but I kind of want to keep going.”

You were actually about to say that and his remark made you more courageous so you blurted out, “Can I ride you?”

He stopped in his tracks, wide-eyed, then turned to you to see if you were actually kidding around, only to laugh in defeat at your dead serious face. Just like that and he’s aroused again.

“Have I said it too weird?”

“No, but why would you want that?”

You ignored his question, “So is it okay or not?”

“Of course, but it'd be quite a work. Why won't you let me take care—oh!” you cut him off by getting up and sitting on his abdomen.

“Sit down," you beckoned him through your fingers.

The sight of you channeling dominance was completely amusing to him, to say the least, so he ticked his eyebrows and followed suit, “What do you want to do?”

“Revenge.”

Erwin almost snorted at that but you cut him off with a sloppy kiss.  It’s now quite gentler than earlier and even if he wants to crush you down the bed again, he let you have it your way this time. Erwin can feel your wetness dripping on him, and you can feel his hard-on standing on your back. You released a breathy sigh, trying to rub your slickness on him. To make the position comfortable, he withdrew from the kiss and moved backward.

“I may not know what you’re avenging for but my pretty girl can get whatever she wants," he leaned against the headboard. “Show me how it’s done.”

“It’s for always–” you lined him up to your entrance, “–ordering me around.”

Then bounced down on him abruptly, swallowing him in warmth. He bit back a moan and you got your pretty little noises as well, very much satisfied with how he’s stretching you full again. You tried to gauge his reactions at first, languidly riding him down, rolling your hips in experimental paces, and relishing how he looked at you – lidded, flushed, with a small smirk.

In the middle of it, however, something daunted you; you don't have much experience with this. He seemed to have lots given how well he did you earlier but you don’t. Erwin sensed the jittery so he grabbed your figure much nearer to him, “Why?”

You gave him a sheepish chuckle, “My confidence slipped away." When you thought he’d laugh at it like earlier, his face immediately softened and gave you an understanding hum instead.

“Poor girl, what’s on your mind?”

“I’m just not used to doing this thing passionately,” Nevertheless, you continued the rhythmic bucks—taking him in and out, gripping in his shoulders, holding back whimpers. Tremors of pleasure teemed Erwin's body, all of it getting too good to handle, “B-but I want to take care of you as well– that kind of thing.”

“But you’re doing it so well,” he doted, slowly nuzzling his lips on the sides of your face, nibbling your ears, patching up your neck with more bites as if to flaunt how he’s taken you for his own. He really can’t get enough, and the way you’re telling him so adorably how you want to be good for him satisfied a darker side of his psyche. He gripped your hips very tightly, intentionally having it to mark, and jerked his hips upwards to help you take him.

All his reluctance about not meeting your desires disappeared to shreds as he remembered; you’re here, on your own accord, even after seeing the monster that he could be. If you would go to him keeping in mind all the deplorable sins he had done then you had given yourself over. Drawn, bound together, and pleasures to be consumed by him. Mine. It throbbed in his head, repeatedly so, for he was very gratified.

He headily reached for your face, brought your lips into his, and relished the realization desperately; hoping you’d realize it as well. As the swirls of your tongues slipped your minds towards oblivion, his thrusts became more unrestrained and feral. He needed to feel more, needed to hear more.

He called your name, “Louder. Have everyone hear how well I'm taking you.”

It was yet another stern, or perhaps desperate, command. And so you did, not like you have any choice. It feels too good and you’re disgustingly drunk on the slick sounds of your heat as you ride him down. “My good girl, yeah, just like that.”

After a while of letting your bodies do the act for yourselves – what was yearned from the things left undone – you’re coming again. And his drawn-out moans, grunts, and words of praises told you he’s the same. He mercilessly rutted, fucked up your cunt, until your walls fluttered around his cock for the second time. As you reached your climax, he abruptly got himself out of you and came again. His seed was all over you: stomach, chest, some of it was even shot to your face.

He let out a dark chuckle at the sight. He was able to savor you completely. Now you lay in front of him, being the utterly divine art that you are. Completely messed up. By him. Alone. Nobody else could. In this world and even beyond.

You gave him a shy, tired yet satisfied smile and he slid his fingers to your face to wipe it himself.

“That was so good," he whispered, your foreheads bumping against each other.

“Heh, heh. Took you so well, didn’t I?”

"Very much so." The cheeky grin warmed Erwin up even more, so he kissed your forehead before ushering you up.

“Aren’t you tired?” you whined and laid down on the bed. Of course, you wanted to clean up, but you came three times and you’re minutes away from sleeping the night.

“I could still go on if we stay tied there, uncleaned," he sat up on the corner of the bed and massaged your sore limbs. He glided his fingers on the marks, guilty for making it too hard, “Sorry.” He scooted and gave it a peck.

You showed him your neck, full of his bites, “This,” then examined your chest only to see another one on the side of your left breast, “When was this?” you glared at it. Then pointed to the one he’s holding on to your hips, “And this," you ruffled his hair. “This could be decades-worth of pining! All because some commander decided to be a full-on jerk.”

"I know.”

He remained in his position for a while just looking at you in the eyes. The smile was quite a sad one, almost mournful, but you maintained the tender look on your face. After a while, he slid his hand to cup your cheek with his thumb playing on it, “Are you up for another round?” he smiled endearingly.

“What the heck is up with your stamina?” you scoffed but still tried to assess whether you could or not. Maybe you could, it’s Erwin after all.

“I’m just kidding," he pinched your cheek and then stood up. “Let’s clean up. My room smells too good right now. One more sniff and we'll stay on this bed making love until we die.”

“Your room should get used to it," you replied, realizing you’re actually feeling sore and it’s quite difficult to stand now. Erwin knew it so he spent time fixing your baths first.

Carrying you there himself, he replied, “Yeah. You should get used to it too.”

🔖@collinnmckinley @frenchdyer @aeanya @xiaotopia @watyousayin | SUBSCRIBE TO STORIES

[normanssurvivalsite]

Okay so I, myself, is trans masc and have bad body dysphoria. If it’s alright with you could I ask for something with Alastor and the reader cuddling or something with fluff along the lines of being overly sensitive about what they look like and such? If you’re not comfortable with that then something with angst (I love angst) with Alastor and male reader?

HERE YOU GO LOVE

I hope you like it I did put a bit of angst in it since you said you liked it🫡

Ok Alastor might be a bit OOC but like😎

Warnings: body dysphoria

Handsome boy

(Alastor x trans male reader)

Here you were again. Staring at your reflection in the mirror. You did this almost every day.

You hated your body, since it wasn't even yours. You truly didn't want to look at it, you were struggling to tear your eyes away. You just hated it so much. You just wanted to take the scissors and cut off everything that shouldn't be there.

Being born in a body that was never yours. It was like prison.

The tears started rolling down your cheeks. This was nothing new to you. crying was almost a daily routine at this point.

"Dear, are you ready to go?"

You heard the static voice of your boyfriend from the other side of the door.

"Shit" you whispered to yourself as you hurriedly went to put on your binder but thats not so easy.

You were staring hatefully at your body for too long apparently.

You were struggling to put on your binder when Alastor opened the door. The moment he entered you got it on but it was of no use. He has seen it. The prison you were born in.

He was standing there in the door. The smile fell from his face.

"Darling?" He asked.

"...please leave." You managed to whisper.

You never told him. You were scared that he would leave you.

However even though you never said it directly he knew. He knew because he had the tendency to over analyze everyone and so after some time he figured it out.

He knew the basic concept of being trans. He worked in the radio business after all he has met trans people. However the moment he noticed that you, his lovely boyfriend, were born as the gender which you aren't he started to get deeper into the subject.

He learned everything that is about transitioning, body dysphoria and most importantly, how to help with these.

Alastor surprised himself truly, he has never done this much for someone, but you, you were so important to him. He has never loved anyone as much as he loves you (perhaps his mother).

Alastor always believed that what a person looked like or presented themselves as had nothing to do with their value or personality, in fact he found the whole idea of connecting looks to self worth foolish. Male, female, neither, both it didn't matter to him much.

"My love" he proceeded to walk over to your kneeling form.

"Can my lovely boyfriend look at me" he said as without the static in his voice.

This got your attention and you looked up at him, he was wearing a small smile, not his usual grin, a smile that said: everything is ok.

Your eyes were red from crying as you looked up at him. The moment he noticed that his eyebrows wrinkled.

"Oh, dear, we cannot have that" he said at last as he lifted you off the ground (with the help of a little magic lets face it the man is a twig) and sat down with you in his lap on your bed.

"My darling, you do know I love you, yes?" He asked.

You hesitantly nodded your head.

"Lovely, then you also know that I love every part of you no matter what, you will be a gorgeous man in my eyes with or without female body parts, hmmm?"

You didn't answer to that.

"Well, now you know. I am aware that what you youngsters call 'body dysphoria' is. A major problem for you do not think I don't know how much you cry."

You looked up at him in shock, you were always so careful to be quiet.

"In fact that is why we were going to go out today I was going to get an answer out of you" he chuckled a bit.

"However, I think perhaps staying in is a better option for tonight?" He looked at you questioningly.

You nodded again.

With that confirmation Alastor hugged you even closer to him and laid down on your bed with you clinging to him.

"My handsome boy." He said

He hugged you and kissed your forehead. He started singing quietly with the static back in his voice, he knew you found it calming.

His singing was lovely, it was slowly luring you to sleep. Before you fell asleep you mumbled a 'thank you' to which he gave another kiss to your forehead as you drifted off, feeling loved.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hope you guys enjoyed (especially u @coffeewithcocoa) I just wanna say as a last word to every trans person out there that remember you deserve love and are worthy of affection.

Love you all have a great morning/night/afternoon💗

[midnightscramble]

Hiya, could you do a Portia Featherington x female baker reader. Of course you have all creative freedom. Thank you, love. ;P

Sugar, Sugar Part 1 (Portia Featherington x fem!Reader)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

The Masterlist

Author’s Note: Thanks for the request! Love this idea and am so joyed to write for it. If it’s not to your liking feel free to make another request (don’t be shy!). Happy readings to you.

Summary: The stress of running a doomed household is getting to Portia. In an effort to get her daughter and Mister Finch to produce an heir, she employees local baker Y/n to fill the house with goodies.

Warnings: Portia has anxiety, slight derogatory references to religion, memories of a neglectful marriage, period typical misinformation about pregnancy and fertility, No Beta read

“Mama, I swear, Albion and I have been trying. It is simply in God’s hands. A baby shall appear within my belly when he deems it so.” Philippa shrugged and looked towards the vaulted ceiling as if it was the heavens. Portia pinched the bridge of her nose at her daughter’s idiocy. She walked towards the window and looked out upon the street, shaking her head while cursing her daughter’s religious education. Of all the books Penelope had convinced the late Lord Featherington to supply her with, it had to be the Bible that Philippa happened upon. The very same girl who could not remember her Hail Marys.

Spinning on her heel, exasperated, Portia looked towards her daughter, “It is absolutely in your hands. God gave mankind free will. Free will which you will use to become pregnant. Are you sure that Mister Finch is doing his part, is he doing all a man can to enhance his virility?”

"There is only so much Alby can do, Mama. He has many allergies, it is near impossible for him to eat the foods that are meant to increase his bravado." Philippa yawned resignedly.

"Well, have you noticed any particular type of food that effects his, uhh," Portia raised her eyebrows and whispered conspiratorially, "appetite for you?" Philippa gasped despite her mother's careful phrasing, causing Portia to roll her eyes.

Offended, Philippa tsked, "Mama, that is very improper of you to ask. But if you must know, he rather enjoys sweets before the act."

Of course, Portia thought, when does the man not want sweets. "Then I shall have the staff fill your room with treats and you are not to leave until you are sure you are with child."

"You cannot trap us in our room!"

"I very well can! All of our futures are dependent on your and Mister Finch's coupling. I cannot count on Prudence to put her pride aside and measure up to the task. Penelope has not a suitor insight while she chases Mister Bridgerton's coattail. Please Philippa, if you do not do this we will lose everything." Her ears ran hot as she tried to reason with her. Was it possible that she was the only one who understood the enormity of the situation?

Slouching, Philippa huffed "Fine, although my only request is that the sweets not be from the kitchens. I'd rather it be from Y/l/n Pastries and Delights. The shop has gained quite the following with-"

"Yes, yes. I will take care of it, now off you go! I expect you to be glued to his side by the time I return with the order."

...

The carriage ride into town was bumpy and unpleasant. Perhaps Portia was overly sensitive due to her soured mood. She despised having to haggle, especially with someone as well connected as the Ton's premier baker. Since the death of Lord Featherington, Portia had been careful to reduce the size of the staff and have the kitchens purchase day old produce from the markets. While she preferred to be frugal in such times, this expense would prove to be important. Never did she think her family's future would rely on a man's appetite.

Coming to a halt, she peered out the carriage window. Her destination was at the edge of the Ton, surprising her considering the supposed popularity of the bakery. Gingerly stepping out of the carriage, she tried to settle herself. She knew exactly how to get what she wanted. Men, older men in particular, were simple creatures. With a delicate balance of sexual innuendo and pseudo helplessness, she was sure to emerge victorious.

The shop bell jingled, causing Y/n to look up from her place behind the counter. "Welcome in! what can I do for you, Lady Featherington?" She smiled brightly at the auburn haired woman. The aroma of the shop washed over Portia gently, reminding her briefly of the display of sweets she had at her own wedding.

Portia smiled tightly and approached the counter. To be known about the Ton was both a blessing and a curse. There was pride in being instantly recognized by strangers, yet it made discrete deals such as the one she was trying to procure all the more difficult.

"Hello, Dear. I was wondering if I may speak to the head chef?"

"I am the head chef." Portia released a guffaw, "Pardon me, I'm afraid you misunderstand, I am looking for the shop owner."

Y/n smiled kindly, Portia was not the first to make this mistake, "That would be me, Lady Featherington."

Portia's smile dropped momentarily. A woman shop owner was hard to come by. Sure, there were lady bakers in the Ton, but none owned the shops they worked in. "How modern," she complemented, "I was hoping it would not be too late in the day to place an order for tonight?" She was in fact hoping that it was too late, and thus the remaining goods would have a reduced price given how long they had been siting.

"As a matter of fact, I make night batches to supply to the local families. It seems everyone is partial to dessert before bed," Y/n jested slightly. Although her heart rate picked up a notch, Portia released a laugh to show good nature. Reevaluating the situation, she looked around the shop, "Well I'm not sure what I should order..."

Reading the hesitancy in her eyes, Y/n offered "Why don't I give you an assortment. That way you can come back tomorrow with a list of what was enjoyed, hmm?" She was used to having to sell herself to the people of the Ton, none were quick to trust a female shop owner.

Portia's smile relaxed at the prospect, "That would be lovely, thank you." Y/n started packing up one of each dessert. Absentmindedly, she made conversation, "My condolences on the late Lord Featherington. When my own husband died, it nearly sent me to ruin."

Eyes widening, Portia scrambled for an appropriate response to such an abrupt topic change, "Thank you..." She drifted off, not sure what to say. She studied the young woman, wondering what she was getting at. Their eyes met briefly and Portia looked away, feeling caught.

Filling the silence she continued, "My condolences as well, was it your husband who started this fine establishment?" Internally she grimaced. She knew it was none of her business, yet the oddity of the situation drove her to seek some sort of explanation.

"We started it together. I had to petition to the province to assume control of the estate. They wanted to give this shop to my eleven year old cousin, can you believe that?"

She sucked in a breath, "Yes, yes I can." Portia was becoming all too familiar with inheritance laws.

Y/n placed three full boxes on the counter and grabbed a paper. "Now, I am going to write which box contains which sweet," she beckoned Portia closer to watch as she wrote.

"This box has", rather than listen, Portia found herself distracted in watching Y/n's hands move as she emphatically described how each pastry could be identified. Her fingers twisted as she mimicked the pipped icing atop a miniature cake. The subtle flexing of her hand when she grasped the quill left Portia wondering what strength those hands possessed. Y/n seemed to have a good work ethic, leaving no doubt in her mind that she would be behind the scenes with her staff, kneading dough, working till sweat dripped down the column of her throat- Portia's mouth suddenly felt very dry and she cleared her throat, causing Y/n to pause. Embarrassed she rushed, "Thank you, I shall return tomorrow. You can hand these off to my footmen." She spun around on her heal and in three long strides she exited.

Y/n called after her, "Have a nice night, Lady Featherington!"

...

Feeling rather worn, Portia told Philippa's maid to have the sweets brought directly to her daughter's room. She retired early, settling in the king sized bed with the latest issue of Lady Whistledown. Seldom did she wish to know the true identity of the infamous writer. However, it was nights like these that she wanted to meet the woman face to face. She was curious, how had she made it so far? Was there a man behind the publishing? If it was truly a Lady behind the gossip expose, she may be the most independent woman of their time.

Oh, to be so free, she thought.

Turning, she blew out her bed side candle and tossed the pamphlet to the floor. Even with her husband dead, she was still chained to his decisions, his name, the failures he had made and hid from her. It would have scorned her if not for the fact that she had no emotion left to give the man.

She had never truly been dependent on him, at least not in the traditional sense. There were women like Violet Bridgerton, who mourned her husband years after his passing, pious and properly. For Violet had loved him, and in turn was dependent on his love and company. Portia, on the other hand, had tried to love her husband. She gave Lord Featherington her youthful devotion, drawn to his coy smiles and cold disregard for her. There was a certain safety in giving her heart and hand in marriage to a man who was distant. Who showed his affection in gifts rather than touch or word.

Their relationship, transactional at best, had entirely ceased upon the birth of Penelope. Lord Featherington had given up on the prospect of a male heir and moved to the opposing wing. From then on, the bulk of their interactions consisted of sitting across from each other at breakfast and linking arms at social events. Both were too content to break the newly developed pattern. It was almost pleasant, to look upon each other and feel no obligation to pretend.

Tonight was like any other night in her marriage, spent alone. She was normally untroubled by the empty side of her bed, cold and firm from being unoccupied. Closing her eyes she resigned herself to ignore the sudden deficiency. She told herself that it was of most importance to fall asleep quickly. Tomorrow she would have to be sharp to negotiate with Y/n.

Reminded briefly of the baker, thoughts of little cakes with pipped icing, quills, and the smell of bread paraded through her mind as she succumbed to sleep.

[charliemwrites]

Maybe I am being overly sensitive about this, but that Konig got added into the 1fur1 AU before Gaz did and then Gaz ending up as the only non-dog makes me feel a bit hesitant? Almost like he is being separated—the “vibes” of playing with a dog are different from playing with a cat. I don’t know, am I just reading too much into it? I’m not even sure what kind of response I’m asking for to be honest 😭

Hi! Okay, first, thank you for reaching out and sharing your thoughts/feelings on the fic. I can absolutely give you my response and a candid answer that I hope is enlightening(?) or provides closure.

Let’s start with where Gaz came in the series. I always had every intention of including him, but I couldn’t decide on a satisfactory way of introducing him for a long time. I didn’t intentionally put him last, but that he was is a product of internalized bias that I continue to try to challenge and improve upon. In essence, I couldn’t think of how I wanted to write him in because I am unaccustomed to writing him. I hope that makes sense?

Now, for making him a cat. I understand that there are many racist stereotypes and caricatures that liken black people (and other people of color) to different animals. I try to be aware of that when writing. If there is a negative association between black people and cats, i am entirely unaware of it.

I did intentionally make Gaz a cat. From my understanding of Gaz’s character, I thought it made sense. He’s highly competent, an excellent operator while alone, with a well rounded skillset, and fiercely loyal. And, as I joked in a previous ask, I could only imagine a cat falling from something (a helicopter) while being fine but miffed about it. That was a genuine discussion I had with others. I also thought it would be a fun point of asymmetry in the story, to have a parade of dogs followed by a single cat.

All of that said - is writing him as a cat and the rest of the group as dogs another instance of internalized bias? I’m not sure, and I’m open to discussion about it. I did not think I was ascribing any negative connotation to Gaz by personifying him as a cat shapeshifter, but amongst a band of dogs, perhaps it is and I’m not seeing the perspective. Again, I would be open to discussing it if someone wants to take the time.

I hope this answer made sense and was coherent, and that it provides some explanation that helps. If you want to talk more about, we absolutely can but I understand you likely went on anon purposefully. Thank you very much again for reaching out. 💕

[utilitycaster]

I'm glad to see you mentioning how disconnected the PCs are from Marquet! I'm a little surprised that I haven't seen more discussion of this in the fandom at large (although maybe I'm looking in the wrong places), since it was a point of discussion at the very beginning of the campaign in a couple of private PoC tabletop/LARP groups I was in. The consensus in the aforementioned groups at the time was that maybe the cast didn't feel comfortable representing characters coming from cultures that were explicitly based on real world PoC cultures (but the decision to have almost everyone be an "outsider" in a PoC-coded culture had unfortunate Orientalist overtones). This was very, very early campaign (like e10 maybe), though, before we really knew the trajectory of the plot (or that they'd spend so little time in Marquet).

It definitely came up a lot early on and I think a lot of the people who felt this either left Campaign 3 quite early and said "this isn't working for me" or else said, as I did, that it is what it is.

I think my issue here is that like...Imogen and Dorian are the only Marquet-born characters and while I have complicated feelings about how people see Imogen (see my previous comments about the bizarre bordering on creepy glorification of a very white-coded Southern culture that have spread into like...white anglophone but not United States portions of the fandom) she and Dorian are both very much coded to North American cultures (Imogen, accent aside, honestly fits any rural agrarian portion of the country and honestly reads closer to the great plains than the south, and Dorian is influenced by Native American culture). I actually do think that Taliesin did a good job making Ashton feel like they were part of Bassuras (and they aren't from there originally, but did grow up there culturally), but the fact is I've seen multiple people ignore that "Bassuras" is specifically taken from Tagalog (and that Makenzie de Armas was one of the Marquet designers) and hc it as Central American rather than Filipino despite Matt explicitly saying it's the latter.

I do think that the answer, if the cast was not comfortable playing Marquesian characters (and I am not a POC so take this with that grain of salt, but I also think, with some effort and some sensitivity work, they could have done so, particularly since Marquet is inspired by but not one to one), the answer should have been to either be clearer this wouldn't be centered in Marquet and would simply start there which would have lowered those expectations and to perhaps plan an EXU in Marquet that does primarily star actors who are from north Africa, or western, southern, or southeast Asia; or just set the campaign in Issylra or something. I get that Marquet is more central and cosmopolitan than Issylra by far, but we're now in an awkward position where we might have a campaign set mostly in Fake North America; a campaign set virtually entirely in Fake Europe/debatably central/northeast Asia; and a campaign that was ostensibly set in Fake SWANA/SEAsia but really was mostly about the moon. Like, the cast doing a thoughtful but perhaps imperfect go at Marquesian characters would have, at least in my opinion, been preferable.

If it helps I think the way Matt and the worldbuilders describe Marquet it doesn't feel (to me) overly orientalist and the fandom has definitely had way more "do you see this shit Edward Said" moments than the cast, despite the fact that only half the characters had spent significant time in Marquet. Really, the narrative issue is "the characters don't feel tied to this place or invested in the same way in this plot because the plot isn't tied to this place", and the unfortunate overtones come from the fact that it was the Ostensible Marquet Campaign that got the plot that's not really about Marquet.

(as someone running Netherdeep - I will say that helps. The bulk of that story is in a lovingly and sensitively reworked Ank'Harel. I'm hoping TLOVM also does a better job than C1 with Ank'Harel.)

[crow-cello]

// im spamming a lot, i apologize LOL

lucifer corrupting the eden humans !! (adam was already a slut, but now lilith can join 👁️👁️)

lilith is finally made and is introduced to adam, who is overly excited to meet his new partner and show her around the garden and tell her about all the facts he knows about the animals and plants in eden!

although at first, it seemed like she had an awfully troublesome time trying to open up to the first man, acting nervous and fiddling with her long, blonde hair. it was just then he noticed her organ between her legs, it was just the same as his! maybe they could bond over that?

"Adam? Oh, is that the new human? Lilith, was it?"

Lucifer! Adam's favorite angel has arrived! Perhaps he could help the man make the woman feel more welcomed and comforted? Lucifer was always so efficient in that area, it's why Adam always felt so relaxed, despite how exhausted he would be afterwards.

Lucifer used his charms to have Lilith obey him, and with enough persuasion from him and Adam, she was wrapped around his finger in no time.

Lucifer carefully explored Lilith's sensitive cunny, the warm heat welcoming the angel's fingers while the first man helped Lilith relax and praise her for taking him so well. He was gonna have to reward him thoroughly for being so helpful.

"See, Lily? It's not so bad, doesn't it feel so good?"

"I-It feels... odd."

"That's what I said too! But you'll see, you'll feel really good too! Right, Luci?"

This was going to be a quite a start for the unconventional relationship between the three.

NOOO don't be i just only hope you don't mind my slow responses as I wanna make sure i am eating thoroughly these big-brained ideas!!

i also love the idea of lilith and adam being made as equals not only as humans, but as bodies with the same genitalia, as heaven had no concept of male and female completely. no, this was something that would become acquired eventually with how charged lucifer would become with these two 😏

also, adam being something of a curious little dork is so innocent, fitting of his naivety when lilith and lucifer were endgame, so of course it would take lilith some warning up to when she had been made for adam, when she had already been secretly seeing lucifer prior with how similar their mindset is~

Of course, Lilith is piqued by Adam's familiar built, perhaps there was some common ground with her other half. Including Lucifer in the mix made it a whole lot easier to become acquainted. He was a charming devil, not that she would know the extents of his persona.

His curious perversions were something she wouldn't be able to call out to, as the idea of sin was far from both her and Adam's thoughts. (Adam was still the biggest sinner of them all for gullibly falling for Lucifer's touches and not prefacing to Lilith beforehand what she was getting herself into!)

The first time Lucifer trains Lilith to touch herself before inserting his own fingers was quite the experience for these three. Lilith's cunny took his digits in nicely, and Adam was more than impressed to see how their bodies fit so well. Lilith was quite the fast learner, and she understood Lucifer's ropes much quickly in no time! And so, they become quite the unconvential trio!

That was all well until Adam begins to feel a little left out as we have seen the angst prior to this origin of them acksks 👁️🥹

[blue-little-angel]

Heyo, Cloud! How's it hangin'? Can I please request a Fyozai (pre-romance?) drabble with lee!Fyodor and ler! Dazai? The plot is yours, I just want Dazai to absolutely *ravage* the rat with raspberries LMAO- Whether it be affectionate or by sworn revenge, Dazai would do both honestly XD. Have an awesome day!

Hope your day is as great as you are

Hello, I am kinda tired but still surviving hehe 🥹

Lee: Fyodor

Ler: Dazai

Fandom: Boungo stray dogs

Fyodor sighed, keeping his attention focused on the book in his hands even as he heard the familiar footsteps approaching. He had hoped for a quiet evening alone to read, but it seemed fate had other plans.

"Well if it isn't my favorite rat," came Dazai's scathing voice from beside him. Fyodor sighed again.

"What do you want now, Dazai?"

"Can't I stop by to bother my dear friend without wanting anything?" Dazai replied in an overly sweet tone. "You wound me so."

The Russian turned the page, refusing to give Dazai the satisfaction of a reaction. But suddenly the book was snatched from his hands. He opened his mouth to protest but was cut off by the detective leaning in close, an unsettling grin on his face.

"I think someone needs to be taught a lesson about keeping their nose in books instead of paying attention to more important things," Dazai murmured. Before Fyodor could react, Dazai was assaulting his neck with raspberries, blowing against the sensitive skin. "Like me! I am important!"

Fyodor squirmed, trying and failing to suppress his laughter at the ticklish sensation. "D-Dazai, stop this instant!" he protested through gasps. But Dazai showed no signs of stopping, ravishing Fyodor's neck with playful vengeance. Despite his words, perhaps Fyodor didn't truly want it to end.

Fyodor's laughter slowly subsided as Dazai finally took pity on him, moving back just enough to meet his eyes. But the brunette's grin remained just as infuriating as ever.

"Had enough yet, you anemic devil?" he taunted. Yet despite the insults, his tone held no real bite.

Fyodor huffed, trying to regain some composure as he smoothed down his rumpled collar. "You are incorrigible," he said with as much disdain as he could muster.

But the effect was somewhat lessened by the flush in his cheeks and the way his lips still twitched with barely restrained smiles. Dazai chuckled, clearly noticing.

"And you're utterly hopeless," he replied, shifting to sit beside Fyodor with their sides pressed together. Before Fyodor could protest the continued proximity, Dazai had looped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close.

"Do shut up and accept your defeat with some grace, rat."

Fyodor knew he should push Dazai away. But he couldn't deny a small, secret part of him that enjoyed these moments of closeness, no matter how roughly Dazai treated him. With a reluctant sigh, he leaned into Dazai's side just a fraction.

"Very well, you loathsome cretin. For now, you've won." His words were sharp but his tone betrayed nothing but fond exasperation. And as they sat together in comfortable silence, even insults couldn't disguise the care they felt for one another.

That was until the dark haired man found himself laying on the couch, the brunette's head somehow ended up under his shirt, lips making contact with his ridiculously ticklish tummy

"Дерьмо. . .shit"