#and another idea i had needs much reworking

[coffeeaddictandinsomniac]

The urge to write a 200k+ medieval fantasy book with slow burn enemies to lovers is very strong.

But then I remember I have to think of an actual plot that happens and not just little scenarios to throw them in ;-;

[x-for-a-y]

>be me, hobbyist writer >get gradually reminded of & motivated to work on a doatk fanfic that's been in the drafts for a good while >eh i'm not working on any other stories right now, fuck it, let's get some progress made on this one >the fic features roommate as one of the main characters >focuses on and changes some of his backstory to highlight how interesting his character is when taken more seriously >treats him mainly like an oc >"this looks like it's going well" >go to sleep >the next day >wake up, check announcements >roommate dead >mfw

[violenteconomics]

as a prank, ace and epel start referring to their upperclassmen as members of their family rather than by name — when they're not actually talking to their upperclassmen, of course — just to see how long it will take them to notice. and after a while, the other freshmen start doing it, too.

ace is the first one to come up with this idea. he think it's a harmless little thing, a prank that'll cause plenty of mayhem but won't get him in any serious trouble. so he starts referring to cater and trey as his dad and mom respectively, and riddle as his uptight, no-nonsense older brother.

("one time i saw my brother try to put one of mom's tart into like a ziplock bag to save it for later, and when he took it out like two days afterwards, it fell apart immediately and he started bawling, ha ha! my dad got the whole thing on camera and shared it with me — i can show you if you want.")

he ropes epel in on the plan. epel is a little more hesitant, but seeing this as a way to get back at vil, even in a small way, he agrees to it. vil is now "ma" and rook is now "pa". people do start to wonder why he still uses he/him pronouns to refer to his supposed mother, but they decide not to question it too much.

("a few months ago, my pa told me a story about how one time my ma was trying to comb his hair, only for his comb to get stuck. so he got another comb to get the first one out, and that ended up getting stuck, too. five combs later, and peepaw had to rush him to the barber for an emergency haircut. it was pretty funny, but now i'm left wondering how pa even knew that story... hold on, i need to check my bathroom mirror for cameras, excuse me.")

surprisingly, deuce catches on pretty quickly, and he starts thinking maybe it's a new dorm policy. he doesn't know why, or why nobody else seems to be doing it, but ace seems pretty sure of himself, so he starts doing it, too, if a bit awkwardly.

("my brother always gets on my case for my bad grades. it's a little frustrating, but he only does it because he cares. my dad tutors me whenever he can, but he's not very good at studying, either. but whenever i do get good grades on my report card, my mom makes me egg tarts!")

yuu starts after they ask ace about it, and thinking it's a good prank, they decide to join in on a little mischief. so they start referring to all the teachers as their "dad". it makes people really confused, because they assume they only have one dad, two at most, but "dad" seems to change personalities every single time they talk about him.

("i was helping my dad do paperwork the other day, except we didn't get anything done and spent the entire evening playing solitaire and making dog puns."

"i was filling my dad's basketballs for him for his next game, whilst simultaneously helping him rework his pick-up lines that he's going to use on rsa's 'hot librarian' — his words, not mine. it was... a weird experience."

"i was feeding my dad's cat a couple of days ago, but i guess i fed him too much, because he's just a ball with limbs now. it's fine, though — it's not like my dad actually goes anywhere. too old for that, y'know?")

ortho is up next. idia's already ortho's brother, so he can't really do anything with that, but he really wants in on the average teenage experience of pranking your peers. so he starts referring to literally every upperclassmen he knows as his "brother". this is when everyone starts to realize that something's wrong, because some of things ortho says can not apply to idia in any reality.

("my brother is so talented! he's so good at talking to people, and making them sign contracts with him, and convincing them to invest in his restaurant... gosh, i wish i could be as good at communicating as him!")

jack is, unsurprisingly, very unamused when he figures out what the others are doing, but he doesn't try to stop them. but after a few weeks of exposure, and jack starts unconsciously doing it, too, which the others don't point out to him because they think it's absolutely hilarious.

("my brother didn't show up to morning practice, again, so my other brother and i went lookin' for him, and we ended up findin' him in a tree. obviously, my brother and i can't climb as well as my eldest bro can, so my brother just... threw a spelldrive disk at him. to get him out of the tree. and then we had to rush him to the infirmary because now he had a concussion. i don't... i don't know why he thought that would work.")

sebek is the last hold-over. not only is he unamused by this prank — and frankly very aghast when he realizes that jack has also been infected by it — but he's also really repressed and will do literally whatever it takes to not sully his image in the eyes of diasomnia. of course, with enough wear and tear, this doesn't last very long.

("ugh. my brother fell asleep on the road AGAIN! i swear, so many people have tripped over him, i'll be surprised if he hasn't broken any ribs yet.")

ace and epel think all of this is extremely funny, so they all keep trucking along with it with nobody noticing for a couple of weeks. it's all fine and dandy until the first-years are out on the town during the weekend, and deuce gets involved in a really bad carriage crash.

at the hospital, deuce starts deliriously asking for his older brother to take him home. but when the receptionist checks his familial records, they're really confused because deuce never even had a brother.

unfortunately, ace knows exactly who deuce is talking about, and awkwardly spends the next 30 minutes trying to get a hold of riddle over the phone.

the awkwardness doesn't end as riddle actually gets to the hospital, and the doctor smiles and says, "you must be mr spade's big brother."

[byuntrash101]

incubus: coming of age

fem!reader x incubus!san smut | mdni 11.3k being in love with your boss, doctor jeong yunho, is a nightmare. unlike this dream you're having right now of him gently kissing you in the middle of the night. but something feels off. doctor jeong doesn't quite sound like himself... nsfw tags under the cut

multiple smut scenes (2), demon!san (needs its own warning), the duality© of choi san he's cute and sweet then hot then even hotter, he's pouty and whiny and then a cocky little shit, monster cock!san (i mean he do be a demon tbh so don't expect realism), dirty talk (he's filthy), oral (f&m), eye contact>>>, breath play, overstim (f), multiple orgasms (he ain't no sex demon for nothing), slight dumbification, breeding kink, a sprinkle of spit play, explicitly asking for consent, pet names (kitten, baby, good girl), breath play, praising, begging™ (that's my brand baby), bulge kink, marking (in a quite literal sense), orgasm control, squirting, an ungodly amount of cum, cum play, lowkey wholesome ending <3 a/n: please enjoy this rework of an old fic of mine

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“Aaaah… Don’t stop” you huffed as you gripped on the bed sheets tightly “I’m cumming” you cry out through gritted teeth, furiously rubbing on your aching and throbbing nub. “F-fuck… Aaaah… Yunho…” You moaned, his name so naturally rolling off your tongue as you pushed yourself over the edge, finally grasping your orgasm and letting it wash over you in waves of heated bliss.

Once your sinful deeds accomplished, you sighed to yourself, lying wide awake in the dark bedroom, contemplating the blank ceiling as your bare chest heaved up and down. 

You did it again… You just couldn’t help yourself, you touched yourself to your handsome boss… Again!

You clicked your tongue, annoyed at your own lack of will.

Yunho was the head of the ophthalmology department at the KQ Medical Center where you worked. Doctor Jeong Yunho was everything a woman in her mid 20s, such as yourself, could desire. He was tall and well built, had strong broad shoulders that seemed like they could carry the weight of the entire world, he was unbelievably attractive with his big puppy eyes and a smile that could light up a room. And on top of that he was incredibly smart and a true gentleman, a wonderful listener, always considerate of his team and that smile! You thought again as you recalled how he looked fondly at you earlier today as you handed him yet another patient file.

As an ophthalmologist of said team, you worked directly under him. And God knew how much more you wanted to do under him…

You shook your head…You really had to stop dreaming about your married boss. Yes, he was married, happily married. And yes, your little thoughts and heart flutters were nothing more than that… dreams, just silly dreams.

You sighed and flipped to your side, tucking your head comfortably on the pillow to finally get some sleep. Not even taking the time to slip your panties back on. Simply buttoning your nightgown back up.

***

You have no idea how long you’ve slept for when you’re woken up by the sound of a pair of lips smacking and the feeling of the said lips attached to your bare shoulder. You blinked a few times, your blurry eyes adapting to the dark room solely illuminated by the rays of the full moon peeking through the blinds. Your eyes fell on the blonde tuft of hair occupied with gently nibbling on your collarbone.

“Hmmm… You finally woke up y/n?” The man lifted his head…

Dr Jeong?!?!

You flung yourself to the headboard, covering yourself with your blanket. Yunho was not at all startled by the sudden screech of terror you emitted and just casually joined you up the mattress. He leaned in and started to playfully lick around your ear. His tongue was surprisingly cool against your burning ear and the tickling sensation raised goosebumps on your skin.

“Aaah” A soft and unexpected moan seeped from your lips. You immediately clapped your hand over your traitorous mouth, refraining from moaning again. Your ears have always been your weak spot.

“Oh baby, you’re so sensitive” his deep voice resonated in your auditory, shivers running down your spine as you fought the urge to lean your head back to give him more access to your neck.

“Dr. Jeong,” you started, voice wavering before the tall blonde interrupted you. 

“Call me Yunho, darling” The pet name spoken in his soft sultry voice made arousal stir your guts around, the butterfly wings tickling your stomach as they took off by thousands.

“Y-Yunho, what are you doing?” You asked in a short breathed whisper, trying so hard not to whimper and, against all odds, succeeding. Yunho smirked, wet lips pressed against the thin skin of your neck.

“Come on baby… You know exactly what I’m doing” He marked a long pause to suck on your earlobe, compelling you to close your eyes. “I’m here to make your wildest dreams come true” Your eyes immediately shot open.

“How would you know about that?” You pushed him away to have a look at his face.

“I just do,” he shrugged nonchalantly before trying to go back to your neck, but you stopped him with a firm hand on his broad chest right between his pecs.

“There’s no way Doctor Jeong would know about that or even act like that at all… Who are you?” You asked, squinting as you grew suspicious. The man chuckled, incredulous.

“Y/n… It’s me Yunho your super sexy gynecologist boss”

Dread crept under your skin, you gasped loudly as you brought the covers further up your body… Doctor Jeong would never speak of himself as “super sexy” and above all else… He’s not a gynecologist!

“Who are you really?” you asked, tilting your head and frowning.

Soon the man dropped his shoulders and the fake reassuring smile, turning his face away from yours.

“Fine!” he spat, he got up from the bed and right there before your very eyes, red smoke started to form at the bottom of his feet, soon enveloping completely his big and tall figure. You rubbed your eyes, persuaded to still be in deep sleep, that was the only logical explanation.

When the smoke dissipated, Yunho was gone and there stood a boy. He had raven black locks of shiny hair perfectly sitting on top of his head, piercing and sharp dark brown orbs looking right into yours and pouty pink lips.

Well, a boy that is if you disregard the two obvious 10 cm (4in) tall horns that sprouted out of his forehead. And a just-as-obvious spade shaped black tail dangling behind him.

He was wearing an oversized black hoodie and a pair of denim shorts with thick white sneakers. He shoved his hands in his back pockets, looking annoyed.

“Who are you?” You asked again, this time more to yourself as you have trouble trusting your own eyes. The thing -for lack of a better word- runs his black stained fingertips through his hair.

“My name is San” he finally said.

“What are you?” you asked after clearing your throat trying not to squeal. San rolled his eyes and sighed deeply, his expression shifting from exasperated to defeated.

“I’m an incubus”

“A what?!” You nearly choked on your own saliva.

“A sex demon that-”

“I know what an incubus is!” you interrupted him, frustrated at the irrational scene taking place before your eyes.

“Well… At least I was supposed to become one” he looked down. You tilted your head in confusion. “Yeah… today is my exam… You’re my exam” You frowned your brows, the confusion thickening in your eyes.

“Your exam?” you echoed.

“Yeah, I was supposed to seduce you to pass…” Your heart jumped into your throat.

“Seduce me?!?” you said louder than intended, feeling yourself almost slipping into cardiac arrest.

“Are you going to repeat everything I say?” he snapped back with a biting tone. “Yeah… I kinda like… studied you and your preferences all semester just for today but it’s all for nothing… I’m going to fail anyway” he hung his head low, sulking cutely.

His words barely made any sense in your fuzzy mind. But then you took a closer look at him, he looked so sad, his cat-like eyes turned droopy, his lips forming an adorable pout as he nervously whipped his tail around. You immediately cursed your subconscious that decided to send you such a weird dream tonight. But the pouting incubus had you second guessing yourself.

“Well…I guess I can make an effort so you can pass your exam” His tail perked up and his eyes instantly lit up.

“Really?” 

You hesitated again.

“Y…yes” you dragged on the word, as if you were trying to keep the right of changing your mind for as long as possible.

“Oh, thank you so much!!!” he chirped, his lips stretching in the most adorable smile, making his sharp eyes turn into two small crescents. And you didn’t really know why but his happiness spread to you, you found yourself mirroring the beaming smile of the heart warming demon.

But something didn't sit right with you.

“Wait, an exam… how old are you?” you asked, uncertain again. San’s smile faded away as he tilted his head to think.

“Hm… You mean in demonic blood moon years or human sun years?” he asked dead serious. When you didn’t reply anything and only looked at him with round and confused eyes, he started mumbling to himself. “Yeah, how would she know what a blood moon year is…” he started counting on his fingers “I’ll be… One… Two… Ten… 19 years old in July” He said proudly puffing his chest.

“Oh my God! You’re only 18!!!” you nearly screamed, almost losing balance and falling off the bed. “I can’t I’m sorry, you’re way too young” San jumped to your side and grabbed both your hands pressing them into his black stained ones.

“Please y/n” he said, piercing cat-like eyes harpooning into yours and begging for your sympathy . “If I fail… I’ll be expelled from school and my parents will disown me… and…” he looked down at his feet, his grip slightly tightening around your hand, his voice quivering. “I’ll be prohibited from breeding, which is an incubus’ sole purpose” He hung his tails in defeat.

You didn’t know why or how but seeing him like that made your heart sink to the bottom of your stomach. You couldn’t possibly say “no” to such a face. You sighed again, it was your turn to feel defeated. 

“Fine…” you couldn’t help but to smile softly when you saw him wag his tail back. “What do you need to pass?” He looked to the side, recalling the instructions.

“For me to have just the passing grade I need to” he nervously licked his lips before looking back into your eyes “I need to successfully give you… one orgasm”.

You blinked your eyes twice, unsure of the information perceived by your ears. You started to shake your head slowly as the realization started to come clearer into mind. “Wait please y/n! We don’t actually have to have intercourse”

“Please don’t say it like that” you asked in a prolonged sigh, removing your hands from his to massage your temples, with knitted brows.

“Wait y/n! I mean… I could maybe… just…” he hesitated “go down on you?”. Silence fell for a second, but you started to shake your head again. “Please” he pleaded, getting on his knees at your side on the mattress, attacking with the damn irresistible eyes and pouty lips.

Silence again.

“OK…” you finally breathed out, getting up and pacing around the room. Once again, his tail cutely perked up. “If it’s a dream then I guess it’s ok…” you whispered to yourself this time your gaze drifting to the floor as you still have trouble processing what is going on.

Just a dream. You repeated to yourself.

“Oh my! Thank you! I promise I will make you feel good” your eyes shot back to him. It was almost imperceptible but the last two words sounded different. Something was different.

San took a step in your direction and you wanted to step back but the back of your legs hit the edge of the bed. You froze in your steps. He leaned into your ear and if you didn’t have your eyes to back up your ears on this one you would have sworn it wasn’t San speaking to you anymore. He took this deep, sultry, and alluring voice that only a demon could have.

“I promise you won’t regret it. Because I was trained for this.” You felt the unusually hot glide of his tongue on your ear as swarms of butterflies collectively took off inside your guts. “I was trained to please you… Only you.” Goosebumps ran across your skin as electricity sparked up in your core.

He went back to lick and suck on your ear you’re surprised how much surface his tongue can cover but you don’t pay that much attention to it, you’re too busy being gently laid back in your bed by San as he licked down your neck, leaving sloppy kisses and playful bites in his wake. His sharp teeth easily sunk into your skin and the pleasurable sting dragged a throaty moan out of your mouth. San briefly pulled away to look at you. He smirked at your flushed rosy cheeks.

“Baby, are you already feeling me?” Just as he said that he pushed his hips into yours and you had to keep yourself from loudly gasping when you felt… it. You haven’t seen it yet, but you just know it… That thing… was huge.

You let out a whimper and he unveiled his pointy teeth, the white pearls glistening under the moonlight. While San buried his face back in the crook of your neck you noticed how the buttons of your nightgown started to faintly glow red and in total stupor you understood they were undoing themselves. The straps swiftly slipped off your skin and you were left absolutely naked before San’s eyes.

He pulled away drinking in your most natural form while you laid on your back, thighs tightly pressed together.

“Baby you look this good, and you want me to behave?” he said in that voice again. He licked his lips, his tongue was different. It’s long and pointy, unnaturally red and… hot too… you recalled from the neck kisses. Your heart pounded in your chest.

He leans back again, and his disproportionately long tongue fully wrapped around your nipple. You moaned and bit your bottom lip. He lightly flicked his tongue. You gasped as it was gradually more difficult to resist.

He dipped down again, hot tongue gliding across your skin from your chest to your stomach and dangerously approaching your center. When he noticed you were keeping your legs tightly shut, he looked back up at you. Your eyes grew wide when you noticed the soft dark brown of his eyes was replaced by a glowing and ominous burgundy red.

“Baby, don’t make this harder than it has to be” San said, not parting his lips from your pubic bone still showering you with a thousand breathy kisses. Then with a flick of the wrist, your legs flew open, the magical force prying your legs open as if it were nothing, coercing you into unveiling yourself to the ravenous gaze of the demon. Before you could even realize it San was eyeing the most private part of you. 

And just like that the demon was at heaven's doors.

“Baby, it didn’t even start yet and you’re already this wet for me” his teasing made you squirm and it’s only then that you realized in what state the incubus has put you.

You were absolutely drenched. You never were this wet… Ever! Even in your wildest dream with Doctor Jeong. Without even proper touching, you soaked the sheets all the way through the mattress. You couldn’t see it, but you felt long strings of your juices linking your sopping center to the bed and coating your inner thighs.

When San approached his face very slowly, eyes focused on his target, licking his lips hungrily, when he’s right there, just a couple of centimeters away from your soaked slit he looked up at you. Sharp eyes glowing red and harboring a smirk that could only be described as downright evil.

“Oh, and y/n, one last thing. This is not a dream… It’s real… I’m real”

You didn’t have time to process the information before his tongue made contact with you, directly aiming for the clit. You gasped loudly, gripping the sheets. The sensation was unlike anything you’ve felt before. His tongue was uncommonly hot and wet, slimy even, like lubricated? It was also kind of rough, rugged, like a cat’s tongue. But strangely it was the best part about it, the little asperities were stimulating you in a novel way. You simply couldn’t hold back anymore. Frankly, you didn’t want to, you were giving in.

Your delighted moans filled the room, and your meek voice had San smirking, lips still tightly pressed to your folds.

“That’s it, kitten, moan for me.”

The pet name made you moan louder, your hand instinctively finding his head, fingers intertwining with the thick black hair between his horns and gripping it. His abnormally long tongue swirling around your clit, driving you to the verge of sanity. The pleasure rose steadily, and you felt the familiar build up form in your stomach.

He wrapped his lips around your swollen and very sensitive clit to give it a gentle suck. Another throaty moan slipped out your mouth which made you bite your lip right after. His sharp teeth grazed against you and you felt a small bite on your already aching bud. The sting was divine and made you scream out a moan. San felt you twitch under his tongue as you unconsciously buck your hips up and down, grinding your needy little cunt against his tongue.

“Kitten, are you gonna cum?” he asked with a mouth full.

You looked down at his dark red glowing eyes, his satisfied smirk, his pitch-black hair stuck to his forehead, his face smeared with your overflowing juices… Fuck why did he have to look so good?

You nodded, biting on your bottom lip so hard you could have drawn blood, feeling your walls flutter, inching so close to the edge, your peak within reach but San slowed down…

No… Please… 

You wanted to beg but you didn't.

You let out a desperate whimper that made San’s smirk grow even wider.

“Then tell me, Kitten. Tell me how good I’m making you feel. Tell me what you want.” he whispered in that deep voice again.

Fuck… How did he know you so well, the weak spot around your ear, the pet name, the dirty talk, the teasing? He knew about all the little things you fantasized about in the dead of night, all the details that drove you mad but never dared speak of out loud. All these secrets you kept for yourself until now. He knew your mind and your body. He had all the cards in hand and you were losing, giving up. But giving up never felt so good.

The agonizing slow flicks of his tongue on your throbbing pussy were killing you and you just wanted more. You needed more.

“Please, please San…” you whined. “Please, please let me cum. I-I need it so bad. Please”. you begged, your mind fogged up with lust. He chuckled in victory.

“Good girl” he praised before shoving his whole tongue in your clenching pussy. You didn't have the will (or the strength as a matter of fact) to control your voice anymore. You let your moans cascade off your tongue and crash heavily on the bedroom floor. The sounds were music to the demon's ear, the irrefutable sign you gave yourself up to him.

“Fuck… yessss…” you brought your second hand between the demon's horn to grip his hair too. Not realizing how harshly you're pulling at it, sting made San grunt against your heat.

“Beg me for it, Kitten”

“Please Sannie… aaah… Don’t stop… Please” you were pleading, you were so fucking close.

His tongue worked wonders going in and out of you at an astonishing speed, every time hitting your g spot dead on. Somehow, he managed to tongue fuck you while still give attention to your clit. Expertedly alternating between your fluttering and gushing hole and your touched deprived little bundle of nerves. 

“M’c-cumming” you whispered in a strangled breath.

“Yes, cum for me Kitten. Cum all over my mouth” San’s deep voice resonated in your ear as your eyes were closed shut. Your legs tensed up and your back arched as the knot finally ruptured, making you unravel at San’s touch. Juices flowing out into San’s open mouth. He sent you into an earth-shattering orgasm. The overwhelming sensation took over your entire body, making you shake uncontrollably as you screamed out his name. Never have you felt something like this. A simple human being would have never been capable of doing the things he had done to you.

San slowed down allowing you to ride off your high without hurry. When he parted his mouth from your quivering core you heard him swallow thickly then hum in satisfaction.

“Mmmmh… Delicious baby” he said wiping his glistening mouth and chin with the back of his hand, the glow in his eyes slowly fading to the original dark brown.

Your chest was heaving up and down and you still couldn’t believe what just happened. The things you felt you can’t really understand or even name them. All you knew was that you didn’t want to let them go.

San had already climbed off the bed when you let your heart speak. Or maybe the voice was coming from further south? 

“San…” he turned around “I-… hum…” you didn’t really say anything but San smirked. He clicked his tongue and shook his head.

“Is Kitten becoming greedy?” With that a red halo of light started to surround him and his clothes just simultaneously dropped to the floor.

You looked at him with round eyes and a hanging jaw. Who would have known he was hiding all this behind his boyish face? He looked absolutely stunning. You would have never suspected such broad shoulders underneath that oversized hoodie. He was toned and in shape. But the most impressive thing was without a doubt his masculine attributes…

His huge dick stood proud and tall. It was quite literally the size of your forearm and you just kept staring at it as it lightly twitched, precum shining and pearling at his slit.

You licked your lips as the sight made your mouth water. San picked up on your piqued interest right away.

He slipped back in bed with you and whispered in your ear again, planting kisses around your ear. He grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks in a firm grip, his black stained thumb tugging at your lips before he slipped his long tongue inside your mouth. Instantly the taste of your own cum spreaded on your tongue, lust clouding your mind. San continued to push his tongue inside, past the back of your mouth and until it was down your throat. Making your lips finally meet. Your eyes instinctively rolled to the back of your head, your mind slipping into some kind of half consciousness as you could only think of San’s plump lips on yours, only think of his tongue down your throat and the heat and the mess it was creating, both your saliva mixing and dripping on your chin. Goosebumps woke on your skin in the nape of your neck as his heavy breathing fanned your warm cheeks.

When he pulled out and you gasped for air, light headed from the burning oxygen in your lungs.

“I know you want more,” he said as he let go of your face to forcefully grab your wrist, placing your hand on his fat huge cock. The thing was so hard and hot, twitching under your fingers, you bit your lip trying to repress an embarrassingly needy moan and barely succeeding. San enfolded your fingers around his cock, making your hand appear so tiny in comparison to the huge cock inside of your clenched fist. He harshly thrusted himself in your small hand wrapped around his two big ones. You whimpered as San growled in your ear.

“Tell me what you want, kitten” San’s low grunts made you shiver, heat pulling in your stomach once more. He gave another powerful thrust in your fist.

“Please… San” you started with your lips trembling. “Fuck me” you finally said in a breath, barely above a whisper.

That was all that San needed. He left your side and kneeled right in front of you. He harshly pulled on your parted thighs to bring you closer. You let a whimper out as his member rubbed against your still very responsive clit.

He wiggled himself even closer and linked his hips with yours, his fat cock resting on your stomach.

“Look kitten, this is how full I’m going to make you” he chuckled, an evil smirk playing at his lips, slightly swaying his hips to rub on your nub. You bit your lip and lifted your head to take a look. You whimpered when you saw the angry red and leaking tip reach all the way up to your midriff.

It’s never going to fit…

He seized his thick member and started to rub the tip against your slit, gathering your wetness and coating himself with it. You bucked your hips up, impatient to be filled. But San gently took your chin in his black stained fingers and lifted your head up. Your eyes shoot back to his, the red glow was back.

“Look at me while I fill you up with this huge fucking cock” he whispered detaching every syllable of the three last words, eyes diving deep into yours. The smirk was gone, he was done playing.

Slowly and steadily, he pushed himself inside you. His girthy tip delightfully stretching your tight little cunt. You felt him progress inside you, surprisingly you didn’t feel any discomfort at all. Something of this length, of this girth, it should have hurt. But it just didn’t. Instead every centimeter felt like pure heaven as his glowing eyes locked into yours as he frowned and grunted.

Eventually he reached the deepest part of you and your hips linked again. You squeezed your eyes shut and your toes curled up… Because as crazy as it may sound just with this one slow stroke, he made you cum. You couldn’t explain it, there’s no logical explanation but you, a woman of science, you didn’t have a single thought anymore for logic. You only wanted more. More of this unholy pleasure. More of this demon, more of him.

You pressed your lips into a thin line to not moan. But San wasn’t fooled, he couldn’t possibly when your tight cunt was so desperately fluttering around him. He hunched his warm body over yours and leaned into your ear to whisper with the deep voice that you were starting to know.

“Oh Kitten,” he clicked his tongue with a patronizing tone. “You came with that?” He cooed as he slowly pulled out of your still throbbing cunt. “But I have so much more in stock just for you”

Then he stood back straight and took a bruising grip on both of your thighs to smash himself back into your dripping heat.

“Fuck” you yelled. Your eyes shot open as you cursed out loud, unable to resist the feeling. Your previous orgasm still hadn’t completely worn off and he was already forcing another one into you. Your eyes rolled back as your jaw fell open, shaking every time he thrusted his huge cock inside you.

San smirked when he felt the signature clenching and throbbing of your on coming high. But that didn’t stop him. As another orgasm washed over you, your legs shook uncontrollably as you moaned out his name.

“Aaaah… Sannnnn”

“Awww, you’re cumming again… Kitten really has become greedy” he chuckled slowly, adapting his pace to allow you to breathe. Your high slowly wore off. Your eyes came back into focus and you caught San’s tail lazily waving behind him before they drift to his handsome (but evil) face.

“Oh Kitten, you’re back! I almost thought you were going to pass out with this one.” he chuckled again, still slowly pumping himself deep inside of you. “You’re not used to feeling this good, huh?” You couldn’t even reply anything, your brain couldn’t process just one useful coherent thought so you just laid there trying to process the feeling but San sped back up, going even faster. Right when you thought it couldn’t get better. Right when you thought he couldn’t possibly fuck you any better than this… he does exactly that.

Immediately you gripped the sheets again, arching your back. You were already back to screaming for him. He felt amazing inside you. The way each thrusted into you to deliciously spread your aching tiny little cunt, the way he rammed himself into you, rearranging your guts and shaping your hole to perfectly fit his fat cock… Frankly in this instant you couldn’t even remember your own name.

“Fuck… Aaaah…”

The sound of wet skin clashing reverberated against the walls of your room. Finally, you felt him dangerously twitch inside you. He was coming close to his release, and it showed in his dark red glowing eyes.

“I’m gonna cum inside you” he grunted lowly, tightening his grip on your thighs. This was definitely not a question. It was a statement.

You welcomed his demand as it meant salvation to you. You were exhausted, your pussy just couldn’t take another one of these intense orgasms. You felt like you were going to collapse as you laid there on your back while he furiously pounded into you, your eyes rolled back and your tongue hanging out of your mouth, flapping on your chin with every thrust.

“Yesh, pleash cum inshide me” you mumbled, not even bothering to slip your tongue back in.

“I’ll make you mine, kitten” he growled, making you shiver.

“Yesssshhhh” you huffed in a shaky breath.

Your own release was coming close, again. Your toes curled upward, and you arched your back, your tight pussy frantically throbbing and clenching around San as his cock pulsed and twitched inside you finally releasing his delicious piping hot cum.

“Fuckkkk” San breathed out through gritted teeth as you sunk your nails into his biceps.

Gallons of thick white sticky liquid gushed out inside you, adding on to the full feeling of San’s cock. You felt astronomical volumes of cum filling you to the brim until it had to flow out of you in a slimy river of gooey white spurts.

You both caught your breath for a good two minutes before you could even move. When San finally pulled out your mixed juices still linked him to you in long strings.

He was quicker to recover than you. Your chest was still heaving up and down when he magically popped his clothes back on.

He looked back at you and the change in attitude was blatant. The glow in his eyes was gone, his innocent boyish expression was back, the cat-like eyes had lost their sharpness and looked back at you with a kittenish expression, and his smile? just adorable. Even his tail was cutely wagging behind him. Suddenly there was nothing evil about him (once more, disregarding the demon horned of course).

“Thanks y/n! Imma have the best grade ever. I bet Hongjoong had to keep the illusion spell…” He smiled from ear to ear, the shiny brown irises completely disappearing to leave two cute crescents.

Completely drained out you barely managed to simply nod back at him and grinned from the corner of your mouth.

“Anyway, bye… Kitten” he said, a playful glint briefly passing his eyes while the red smoke engulfed him once more.

When the smoke cleared out you were almost - not almost - sad that he’s gone. You sighed deeply, cum still lazily dripping out of your broken-beyond-repair hole.

How  were you supposed to go back to a normal life after that?

***

Well in fact… you didn’t. It was over a year later and San never came back. Every night you were hoping that somehow, he would come visit you again. But every night you laid in your bed disappointed, actually, even worse: frustrated.

Because after that fateful night you never touched yourself to your handsome boss Doctor Jeong Yunho again. Actually, you completely lost interest in him. Sure, he was still very handsome and gentlemanly but you just… didn’t care anymore.

To be clear you didn’t touch yourself to Yunho, but you still did have intimate moments with yourself… Well, you tried at least. Because nothing, nothing came close to what you felt when San took care of you that night. Actually, you knew no human being, no simple mortal could possibly fuck you that way. It’s not something a being of flesh and blood can do… It’s something only an unholy creature could do, something only a demon could make you feel.

So every time you succumbed to the urge of relieving yourself by letting your fingers play with your folds it ended in either, a complete failure where you couldn’t even drive yourself to your peak or, a lukewarm, disappointing and frustrating orgasm.

A whole year…

A whole year spent fantasizing about a teenage demon that only used you to pass a stupid exam then vanished from your reality without failing to completely shatter your whole world.

So yeah… it sucked…

You sighed to yourself, staring at the same old ceiling of your room. It was one of those nights where the tension was just too much, but you didn’t feel like going through the hassle of actually pleasuring yourself knowing damn well it was going to be temporary and frankly dissatisfying.

You turned to your side, determined to chase off the frustration by getting some good sleep. Exhausted you drifted pretty quickly into a deep slumber.

But the sleep was anything but good… You found yourself covered in sweat, wrestling in your sheets, engrossed in a fever dream. Not much of it made sense but you felt hands were roaming your body, an usually warm embrace was enveloping your form, you felt rugged flesh lapping at your ear. You heard jerky breaths, lowly grunts, an unnaturally deep voice talking to you…

Missed me… Kitten?

“San?!” you shouted as you sat up in your bed, eyes snapping open.

You looked around in a slight panic, your night gown clamped to your sweaty skin and your chest heaving up and down.

“Fuck” you cursed yourself under your breath, disappointed when you realized your mind played tricks on you again. You were just here alone in your room, soaked in frustration… and arousal.

“God damn it” you cursed again as you slipped your nightgown over your head and kicked the covers off your heated skin. Leaving yourself naked on top of your bed. Immediately the cold air lifted goosebumps on your humid skin, hardening your nipples.

You let your fingers slip to the crux of the problem. You knew there was only one way to finally be able to chase away the memory of San, even if it was only for tonight.

The cold fingers on your drenched heat drew a sharp breath off your lips. You were so excited about this stupid fever dream, so excited about him that only a few rubs already had you with your toes curled up in pleasure, fisting the sheets tightly.

“Aaaah… San” you softly moaned his name. With eyes closed shut, you tried to recall the way he felt inside you, the way his eyes glowed red, the way his low voice sent shivers down your spine…

Awww Kittennn~…

It was like you could hear him… you gave no rest to your sensitive and throbbing nub.

“San, I’m gonna cum” you whispered to yourself. Pleasure slowly taking over your entire body. You slipped a finger inside your drenched heat to aid yourself to your peak a little quicker. Then another one. You aimed directly for your sensitive spot and you felt yourself tightly clenching around your fingers. You’re so close… so so close.

“Aren’t you going to wait for me?”

This time…There’s no doubt.

Your eyes snapped open again as you stopped what you were doing and you were met with San staring you down at the foot of the bed, licking his lips, eyes already wavering with a tint of red.

But for a second you doubted. Was it really him? You can’t help but to ask yourself. He looked so different. Sure, the spare shaped black tail still loosely dangled behind him but other than that his whole aura changed. The boyish features are completely gone. Instead, his eyes and jaw look sharper. He looks broader, more muscular. His plain black tee is tightly hugging his fit and toned body, making it easy for you to see abs peeking from underneath the constrictive fabric, abs you can’t recall from the previous visit. His arms muscles were thicker, and a lot more developed. Along with his pecs of which you could clearly see the outline of under the skin tight black tee. His matching jeans let you see through their rips his smooth silky skin and generous thighs.

But the most noticeable change is definitely his horns. The cute 10 cm (4in) tall skin-colored horns were replaced by huge 30cm (1ft) long ones. They were directly sprouting in a spiral from his forehead and stood proud on top of his head. Their base was black but as they went up it faded to a dark and deep blood red.

Overall, he looked much more mature.

He wasn’t a boy anymore… he was a man.

“San?” you started hesitantly as the demon already slipped beside you in bed. “Is that really you?” you couldn’t help but to ask.

“Yes, Kitten… It’s me” he whispered in the low voice you've missed so badly. Bringing his lips close to your ear and you felt his rough tongue lap at your sweet spot, the familiar sensation drew a shaky breath out of you. For a minute you didn't say anything, you were just there, under his spell as he played with you. In the midst of it all, you didn’t even notice you were stark naked, or maybe you just didn’t care. You didn’t want to protest quite frankly, you let him do, you let him gently nibble at your bare collarbones and plant gentle kisses on your neck. You let him because that’s what you’ve been waiting for… For a whole fucking year.

But then you shook your head, snapping out of it. You left his side and get off the bed taking the sheets to wrap around your naked body and get up, knowing that his soft kisses kept you from thinking rationally.

“San…” you turned your eyes back to him “you've… changed”. He chuckled and the red glow faded to slowly disappear as he got up.

“Yes… I know, a lot can change in 12 years…” he casually said while stepping closer to you.

Wait. What?

“What 12 years? No, it was just last year” you corrected him, and he took your hands in his slender black stained fingers.

“Maybe to you. But not to me” You suddenly recall the demonic blood moon years he had mentioned on his first visit. Maybe that’s what he meant. “I’ll be turning 30 this July.”

Your jaw dropped. How was that even possible? But then again, here you were questioning the passing of time for an incubus. So what's crazier really?

“You remember what I told you about breeding?” San’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

“Yes… that it is an incubus sole purpose, right?” you said absentmindedly, still having trouble wrapping your mind around the situation. But you were brought back to the present moment when San squeezed your hands tightly and dived in your gaze with his piercing dark brown orbs.

“Yes, I came back for that…” he leaned in and you instinctively leaned your head back giving him unconditional access to your neck. San’s voice went down an octave again, lips only millimeters away from your ear. “I came back for you…” he whispered before he licked around your sweet spot, making your heart loudly thump in your chest and your toes curl on the cold wooden floor of your bedroom. You bit your lip trying to restrain your voice.

“I’m going to breed you” his voice was hypnotizing, “You will bear my children and bring them into the world” You couldn’t even wrap your mind around what he was saying, “I chose you, y/n. I only want you” His voice was putting a spell on you. “I can fuck any women I want but…” his warm hand was now wrapped around your nape, and the other one gently pulled on the sheets wrapped around your nude body that you let fall to the ground without resistance.

“San what do you mean?” you asked in a jerky whisper, only focusing on his hot breath on your ear. He ignored your question.

“I need your approval to breed you, y/n” His blunt nails grazed against the naked skin of your lower back, you started to softly moan, you were wrapped around his fingers, completely bewitched by his cat-like eyes fixed into yours. 

“So, say yes, y/n… Say yes Kitten” he said before his large palms groped your ass and pulled you against him, closing in the last centimeters that were left between his clothed body and your naked one, sending radiating heat from your core to your entire body.

What were you supposed to reply? Were you supposed to say "no"? How could you do such a thing after waiting for him for a whole year, everyday growing a little more desperate, a little more frustrated… How could you possibly say no, when his hands were roaming your body like they have always known you. When he whispered with that voice in your ear. When minutes ago, you would have given anything to have another night with him…

You… just…

Couldn’t.

“Okay…” you whispered ever so quietly, barely audible even for your own ears.

You felt San’s cheek lift against yours as he smiled. When he pulled back, you can see his pointy teeth glistening under the full moon, like they did a year ago. He was wearing the same evil smirk that you knew so well, the same wicked and devious smirk that he burnt into your memory a year ago, making sure you could never forget about it.

Fuck…

Right there something snapped, something changed. When San looked back the red glow in his eyes was more intense than ever, his expression was wicked. Lust dancing in his dark orbs as he licked his lips with appetite.

You didn’t even notice the red glow around your naked form before you felt your feet being lifted from the ground. San smirked at the confusion plastered on your face. His magic made you levitate and harshly threw you on the bed, almost smashing your head on the headboard. You should have been stunned but the scene taking place right before your eyes kept you conscious and focused.

The red glow now circled San and in a fraction of second his clothes were gone. Not dropped to the floor, just gone. They completely vanished. And he stood right before you in all his glory. You couldn’t help but to let your eyes trail his body.

His intense gaze, his sharp jawline, long narrow neck, his collarbones. The large and sturdy muscular shoulders. The developed muscles of his pecs and arms moving and mesmerizing you. The dangling black tail. The toned abs, already lightly sparkling with sweat.

Then your eyes finally went below the waist line.

You do remember the enormous… thing – for lack of a better word – San fucked you with last time. How could you forget? You could never. That’s why you know for a fact that this thing right there in front of you, rock hard, lightly twitching and oozing precum at the slit, is actually bigger.

Your jaw dropped to the floor. The veiny and pulsing monstrous cock was as lengthy as your thigh and as thick as a soda can. When you looked more closely at it you realized it was beaded. Beads of different sizes were visible, forming bumps under his skin that progressed down the shaft. Your heart jumped in your chest. Because you knew that huge ass cock was made for pleasure. Tingles started to bubble in the pit of your stomach, and you unconsciously pressed your thighs together.

San couldn’t help but to smirk when he noticed fear and anticipation swim in your confused eyes.

He stepped closer to you.

“Oh Kitten” he started as he crawled in bed to you. The wicked smirk still dancing on his lips, red glowing eyes fixed on you. “We’re going to have so much fun~”

Then with the familiar flick of his wrist your legs flew open at his will. You gasped in surprise. And San’s smirk grew wider when he noticed how your folds glistened with your juices.

“Kitten look at you…” He said, gesturing his chin towards your most private part. “You’re always so wet for me” his low voice sent shivers down your spine as embarrassment rushed to your cheeks. But the spell maintained your legs nice and spread out for him.

San leaned in closer to your drenched heat, sharp teeth on display and tongue out.

You gasped loudly arching your back when you felt his rugged tongue aiming directly for your clit. Still very sensitive from almost cumming a few minutes ago.

“Mmmmh… Kitten you taste even better than last time” he purred, lips pressed to your core, the vibrations sending electricity in your body.

San took his sweet time gently lapping at and around your nub to tease you, while cascades of juices flowed out of your impatient center. You can’t endure the teasing anymore, not after all this time, not after a whole year. You unconsciously bucked your hips up, grinding your pussy on his tongue while a tiny pleading whimper escaped your lips.

San stopped in his tracks. You were taken aback when the glowing red pair of cat-like eyes looked back up at you as he shook his head fainting disappointment. But the smirk was quick to return.

“Baby” his warm breath fanned your delicate parts. “Don’t be so fucking greedy” he said before sinking his pointy white teeth in the sensitive little bud. The sting pulled a scream out of you while you gripped the sheets. Immediately after San’s tongue plunged inside your hungry little hole, reaching the deepest part right away. At an alluring speed, his long tongue came in and out of you, each time poking at your sweet spot. Your loud moans echoed through the empty night, the familiar knot, quick to tighten again after this much teasing.

“San don’t stop” you pleaded, feeling your release coming in. San’s red orbs still fixed in yours while his tail lazily dangled behind him.

The incessant stimulation of your g-spot got you clenching around his long and rugged tongue while you finally came, letting go of the knot. You screamed in absolute bliss.

That’s it… this feeling… The sensation you’ve been craving.

“Fuckkkk” You cried out.

San parted himself from your throbbing center for a moment, allowing you to ride out your high at your own pace. Your chest was heaving up and down, sweat was pearling between your breasts.

“Baby, don’t think it’s over just yet” he said, smirking again. “I have so much more in store for you…”

You didn't have time to fully recover yet but San dove down to your soaked folds again, this time his hot and wet tongue only focused on your swollen nub. You scream out in surprise and pleasure. Immediately your back arched again.

His tongue somehow felt like it vibrated, the feeling was intense and suffocating, and you knew you would soon be thrown into another strong orgasm again. Your hand instinctively flew to San’s hair, resting in between his two horns, fingers harshly pulling at his luscious raven black locks.

“Is Kitten cumming again?” he said with a mouthful.

You couldn’t even process an answer as the crushing orgasm washed over you again, excessive amounts of your arousal coating your tights and linking your center to the sheets. You moan out without restrain, not making any efforts whatsoever to keep your voice down.

When he was done San sat back up on the bed. You didn’t even notice how he stroked his huge monstrous pole in his fist.

“Kitten, I hope you’re not too tired yet…” you jumped when you felt the unnaturally hot tip glide against your folds. “Because it’s my turn now” he singsang.

He shimmied his way to your parted thighs. Like last time he rested his cock on your stomach to measure it up to you. Now there’s no doubt the thing is much much bigger than last time. A year ago, it reached to your midriff, now the red tip is comfortably placed between your breasts. In a sort of trance, you wrapped your hands around it, the both of them can barely circle the girth of his dick. It was huge… Abnormally long and terrifyingly thick… but you couldn’t wait to feel the thing inside you.

San smirked when he noticed you eyeing his member with burning desire. He pulled his hips back and aligned himself at your entrance. His tip teased you as you bit your lip, gathering your wetness for a smooth crossing.

“Look at me Kitten” your eyes shot back to San’s glowing orbs. “Look at me while I make you take my cock” You let a tiny whimper out when you feel him pushing himself inside you. The tip gently and slowly parting you. San grunted in your ear.

“Fuck Kitten, you’re so tight for me baby” he breathed out in his low voice.

With every centimeter it got better and better, you don’t feel any pain, only divine pleasure. You felt each one of the beads along his shaft, each one more pleasurable than the last. History repeats itself as with this one slow introductory stroke you found yourself coming undone for him again.

“I’m gonna cum” you whispered in a strangled breath, your eyes still locked with San’s. His smirk grew wider at your frowned brows and trembling lips. But he kept on steadily pushing his cock inside you, stretching you further and further.

“I know” he whispered before violently pushing the last few centimeters in. The unexpected and overwhelming pleasure washed over you as you sank your head back in the pillows, a long string of moans falling off your lips while your cunt twitched uncontrollably around San, a satisfied grin playing on his lips.

“Kitten” he said while pulling back slowly as you were still high from your climax. “I don’t think you’re ready for me” You peeled open one eye with difficulty to look at him and nodded to contradict him. San chuckled. “You think?” he asked, pulling his dick out of you while your walls desperately clenched around nothing.

“Y-yes” you whispered, squirming, craving for him to fill you up again. “Yes, I missed you so much” the words rolled so naturally off your tongue before you even realized they did. San lifted an eyebrow.

“Really Kitten? You missed me?” you nodded again. “Well… you only waited for a year” you gasped as his hot tip circled your aching little nub before going back to your entrance. “I waited for 12 years” he said in an unnaturally low grunt.

He slammed his hips into yours in one powerful and shattering thrust which set you right back to screaming again. His movements were fast and precise each time he sent his big cock smashing against your g-spot. The pleasurable feeling was unbearable.

“San… Aaaahh…” you moaned his name, as you got dangerously close to the edge again.

“Yes, moan for me Kitten” he said through gritted teeth. “Am I not a lot better than last time?” he panted.

You couldn’t believe it but it’s true. You didn’t think it was possible but yes. He got incredibly better at fucking you to the point that you were ready to pledge your pussy to him for eternity. For him only. You’d do anything to be fucked like this every day until your body eventually gave out from exhaustion.

“Yesss…. Aaaaah… fuck” You shouted closing your eyes under the pleasure. Your loud and unrestrained moans made San smirk.

“You’re mine” he growled continuously fucking you deep and hard. “Fucking look at me I told you” He planted his black nails at the side of your face, making you wince and also open your eyes. The red glow was brighter than ever. “Say that you’re mine” he commanded.

“I’m yours” you whined locking eyes with him as the clenching of your cunt warned San of how close you were.

“Kitten, are you gonna cum again?” he chuckled, eyes locked into yours, furiously pumping his abnormally large cock inside your now shapeless little hole.

“I’m gonna make you mine Kitten. I’m gonna pump you full of cum. Do you want that Kitten?”

“Yes please” You begged in a short breath, your release getting dangerously close.

“Good girl” He grunted getting close to your ear, his rugged tongue licking the shell of it. “Now cum. Cum around my big cock while I fill you up to the brink with hot cum.”

The low whispers were enough to rocket you over the edge. You screamed in absolute bliss, twitching around his huge cock as you felt the hot sticky liquid rushing into you and overflowing out. Just like last time the quantity was inhumane, testifying of San’s demonic nature.

When San finally slipped out of you, you felt your heat meekly clench around nothing, already missing the way San’s monstrous cock was making you feel so full.

You were left completely dazed, lying on the bed, eyes still rolled back in your head, focusing on the fading sensation of your peak.

You didn’t even notice when San stood by the bed and you also didn't notice how, contrary to last time, cumming had not calmed him down. The thing is still alive and lively. In other words, he’s far from done with you.

“Kitten, I’m gonna fuck your face now” he announced.

You didn’t have time to process the meaning of those words that you were being pulled by your arm. Your body was lying across the bed while your head was resting upside down on the edge of the mattress.

“Open wide Kitten” San’s hot and wet tip brushed against your lips. Almost out of instinct you opened your mouth.

San pressed himself inside your narrow mouth. The stretch was borderline unbearable, San’s cock was too big. Way too big for your tiny mouth and you barely managed to take the head of his dick inside your crowded wet hole. San grunted loudly, indulging in the feeling of stretching your lips to his convenience.

“Fuckkkk… y/n”

When he reached the back of your throat he started to slowly pull out, taking his cock completely out. You ceased the opportunity to take a deep breath. And that proved to be the right move, because seconds later San went back inside you but with much less tenderness. He placed both of his hands on your cheeks gripping your face tightly to aid himself with intruding your mouth.

He had no mercy for your poor sore throat, his powerful thrust silencing you except for the wet and sloppy sounds that your mouth emitted.

“How does your cum and mine taste like Kitten?”

His voice sent shivers across your skin, your eyes rolled back as your pained pried open jaw gradually went numb. You wanted to scream how good he tasted on your tongue but you couldn’t. You wanted more, more of this intoxicating taste taking over your mouth and clouding your mind.

“Fuckkkk… Kitten… You’re gonna make me cum” He whispered, his voice conveying the feeling of his incoming orgasm. “I’m gonna cum in your mouth baby. Want that Kitten?” You only produced a gargled moan and San knew how eager you truly were to taste more of him.

“Such a good girl for me”

Only instants after you felt the stream of his warm load shoot to the back of your throat, instantly filling your mouth. Squirts after squirts of cum crashed on the inside of your cheeks and on your tongue, some even slipped out of your mouth and lazily dripped down to your cheeks and forehead.. The bitter taste invades you and your entire body, making you dizzy, light headed.

When San pulled out you hurriedly swallowed a big mouthful of thick and hot cum before drawing a sharp -and much needed- breath.

San gently stroked your cum and spit covered cheeks.

“You’re such a good girl for me Kitten” he said before laying back on the bed, his back against the headboard. And your eyes went wide with stupor when you noticed that still. The monster has not calmed down. His cock is still hard, pumped full of burning blood, tip a shade of angry red and profusely leaking at the slit.

You felt exhausted and drained out by all the orgasms you failed to count. You couldn’t even lift a single muscle even if you tried.

But you didn’t have to because once again your body was enveloped by a red glowing light. With that you were lifted in the air. San’s magic spreading your legs into an impressive split, suspended in the air above him while he patiently waited for you to come down on him with his hands behind his head.

Beads of sweat formed on his chest and rolled down his toned abs. Sweat also stuck his bangs to his forehead and his horns. He was absolutely gorgeous, the kind of beauty that nobody would ever be able to turn down… and especially not you.

And unlike you, he looked everything but tired.

Slowly his magic lowered you down. You gasped when his hot tip brush against your drenched folds.

“I just need more of you, Kitten. Can you handle me?”

You wanted to respond but you were unable to think of anything coherent as, already, the steady descent had you stretched out around his girth and completely cock dumb. You only whimper meekly for a response. Slowly but surely San set you down on his cock, cunt perfectly angled with his huge dick. Each centimeter, each bead going inside you, making your body tense up with agonizing pleasure.

When you were halfway through the red light around your body went off and he dropped you to take the rest of him in one go. And it was just too much for you. The way his cock smashed into your sensitive sweet spot while San had his glowing red orbs fixed on the place your bodies met sent you into the abyss again. This time the pleasure was so intense that not only your needy cunt absolutely crushed San’s cock with a vice grip and uncontrollable spasms but also gushed out juices in powerful clear streams, drenching San’s muscular torso. San smirked as he clicked his tongue and shook his head.

“Kitten… You came again with the very first stroke” he said, fainting disappointment, taking pleasure in seeing you struggle above him, shaking uncontrollably, eyes rolled back, jaw hanging open and toes curled up.

Before you could even go back to your senses, you felt yourself getting lifted again and the red glow came back around your figure. You whimpered as you felt San slide out of you. But right before the tip popped out, he smashed you back onto him. You arched your back as a delighted long string of moans escaped your lips.

“Damn Kitten you’re so tight” San said through gritted teeth.

You couldn’t even say anything back as he’s already lifting you up with his magic. Each time he increased the pace until he had you jumping up and down his girth. The familiar knot tightened again.

“How good does my cock feel baby?” San asked his red eyes fixed on you as he made your breasts bounce on your chest with each back and forth.

“It’s the b-best…. San it’s the best thing ever. F-fuck! Wanna be fucked like this every day” you answered, struggling with your words, mushing them together. Visibly, it was what San wanted to hear as the evil twinkle in his eye intensified.

“Yeah Kitten? You want that, huh?” he grunted in the low voice you loved so much, sending swarms of butterflies flying in your stomach. He went faster again. The wet sounds of skin clashing bounced off the walls punctually interrupted by San’s and your moans.

“I’m gonna c-” You wanted to announce but San interrupted you.

“Not yet Kitten, this time you’ll cum with me and when I tell you to” He lifted you again, making you hover over his dick. Still, just above him. You squirmed only wanting to be filled again.

“Say what you want Kitten”

“Want your cock Sannie” he raised his eyebrow. “Pleasepleasepleaseplease” you begged, your pleas making him smirk again.

“Yeah baby? Is that what you want?” he said as he slipped the tip inside, the beaded shaft made you scream in bliss as San slowly lowered you on his cock, legs spread wide, offering him the best view on your cunt, your swollen clit hard and red and the shapeless entrance drooling and pulsing, aching to be filled again.

“Yessssss” you screamed while tears welled up in the corner of your eyes.

But then San’s spade shaped tail swiftly wrapped around your neck, the slick scales gliding on your skin send goosebumps in the nape of your neck. When the tail had made a full circle around your neck, San suddenly tightened the grip.

“Then fucking take it” he smashed you onto his huge cock.

You opened your mouth to scream but not a sound came out. You were completely silenced. Only the wet and lewd sounds of your pussy could be heard as San’s tip touched the deepest part of you, forming a visible bulge inside your stomach. Tears of pure joy rolled down your burning cheeks.

San then went back to this unforgiving rhythm. Every time angling you just right to smash your sensitive spot. Gradually your mind went blank as he fucked you furiously, your jaw hung open and your eyes rolled back into their orbit.

“Look at me” San whispered in his demonic low voice. Your eyes came back into focus and snapped to him. “I’m gonna cum inside you” he continued to whisper. You nodded vigorously, knowing it meant he’ll finally let you cum too. 

“With this one I’ll make you mine. I will pump you full of my seed and impregnate you. I’ll make your belly swell with my cum and have you bear my progeny” You nodded again, streams of tears wetting your heated cheeks. The restriction of blood to your brain fogged your vision with specks of white, making  you see stars as the pleasure rose again to an unbearable level.

“Now cum. Cum for me Kitten” San grunted.

You felt his cum flow into you, and that sent you over the edge into the most intense orgasm you ever felt, that’s including the ones San gave you in the past. This one was different. His big fat cock smashing into you, his glistening chest drenched with his sweat and your cum, the dirty talk, the pet name, the commanding tone, the low voice, the tail around your neck, the thick and hot cum filling you up. It was all too much.

Your spread out legs tensed up and shook uncontrollably as San led you to completion. Just as you were on the verge of losing consciousness due to the air restriction and the heavenly stimulation of your orgasm, San loosened his tail around your narrow neck. A strangled moan escaped free of your sore throat as you were finally able to vocally express the immense pleasure you felt.

“Yes, that’s it, baby” San purred. “Scream for me”. He kept you going up and down his length for a while longer.

You cried out a long moan as your head was thrown back and your tongue hung loose out of your mouth. San slowly decreased the pace until it came to a stop. He lifted you out one last time, as soon as his big member popped out of you, gallons of his cum flowed out of your tired and stretched out hole. San laid you down gently next to him. Before linking his lips with yours and shoving his long and rugged tongue inside your mouth while you didn’t notice the red glow marking you in the lower stomach region.

You laid there for you didn’t know how long, trying to gather your thoughts. You were completely drained, fucked beyond repair…

After a while San stood back up.

“In three weeks, the children will be born” you pelled open your eyes to look at him. “I’ll be back to take them… and you.”

What?!?

“Wait… me? Also babies? Plural?” so many questions shot through your mind.

“Yes” San said as he wiped himself with a piece of cloth he found. “I marked you as mine” It’s only now that you noticed the small obscure and cryptic symbol San engraved on the skin of your pubic bone with his demonic magic. The character seemed to be a language you can’t comprehend.

“What is this?” you asked, pointing to the tattoo.

“It means you are to be my wife”. Your eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets.

“WHAT?” 

“Yes, you know what a succubus is right, a female incubus? ” you noded, unable to speak one more word.

“Well, succubus aren’t born. Succubus are made. They are human women chosen by incubus to become their wife and bring their heirs to the underworld.”

You wanted to say something, but you only stuttered nonsense.

“Over the course of the next three weeks you will kiss your humanity goodbye. Horns will sprout out your forehead and you will grow a tail. Your magic energy will increase, and you will slowly be able to use different magic spells. In three weeks, I’ll bring you back to the underworld with me, where you will live with me. And serve me with your body…” San marked a silence “and heart.”

“But… you… I-” San sat next to you on the edge of the bed and cupped your cheeks to make your troubled eyes meet his.

“Isn’t that what you asked for?” He asked, there was nothing left of the deep voice, instead he spoke softly, his dark orbs fixed into your unsure gaze. He brushed his thumb over your bottom lip “Right, Kitten?”

“Yes…” you whispered, bewitched by his intense stare.

“Over the past year, your feelings for me bloomed, didn’t they?” You felt blood rushing to your cheeks as San’s gaze was unwavering, sharp cat-like eyes piercing right through you and touching your soul. 

You didn’t answer anything, but you didn’t have to. San knew exactly how to read you. His eyes started to glow again, along with the symbol marked on your skin. And you were enveloped in his light. You felt like your soul was being bound to this creature, almost morphing with him. The bond was pure and benevolent. And real. From now on you were his and he was yours.

He got back up and magically summoned more clothes from thin air. Red smoke started to appear at his feet, gradually growing around him.

“I’ll be back in three weeks. Wait for me, Kitten, okay?” He said with that adorable boyish smile you haven’t seen in a year, he winked at you before disappearing in the red smoke.

You rubbed over the tattoo and over your belly, where life had taken its domain. This time, you wouldn’t have to try to go back to your normal life.

It was impossible anyway… and frankly you didn’t want to.

IF U WANNA HELP ME PLEASE REBLOG WITHOUT USING THE COMMUNITY LABELS 🖤

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a/n: so how was it? how was demon san? as a proud member of demon line i thought the concept suited him hehe. dont hesitate to tell me if you liked it. that would make me so happy <3

[wh1sp3rr]

giving katsuki a massage! + [1.6k wc]

ೀ masterlist ೀ requests ೀ

he’s sat by his oaky desk, shiny finish decked high with towers of books. his back congruent with the soft cushioning of his chair. black-rimmed glasses tipping of his nose as his laptop’s screen burns into his pupils. twenty or so tabs open, completely organised in his eyes, and the click clackity click of his keyboard. a hum that’s been prolonged for hours.

you get up from your comfortable place in his bed, leaving the snuggly warmth your body had adjusted itself to and move behind katsuki, peering over his shoulder to see what exactly he was working on.

he’d told you it was the latest assignment aizawa had set out and, against your better judgement, rather than set out to finish it promptly like a good student, you procrastinated and wandered into your boyfriend’s dormitory 'by accident’ so you say and found yourself already eased by his presence.

though you did have to beg him to let you in.

“you’re gonna distract me.” is what he said, his reading glasses already on and arms crossed.

but you argued and pleaded with him, “no, katsuki, i won’t! please, just let me stay. i’ll be on my phone the whole time, you won’t even know i’m there.”

but he wanted to know you were there he thought. he stared at you for a minute. pondered on whether or not this was a good idea. and he knew it wasn’t. he knew that.

but then you brought your hand up to his, pinkie finger stuck out and said in that cutesy voice of yours, ‘promise.’

he glanced at it, eyes meeting yours then your little finger again and his tough facade cracked with a sigh, not long before he locked his pinkie with your own then smoothly brought your hand closer and laced his fingers with yours, squeezing firmly and affirming a soft, “promise.” the word having a light airy feel on your knuckles as he brought his lips to your hand.

so now, two hours later, katsuki still very much locked in on the task at hand you decided enough was enough.

your careful eyes watch the words he types. aloud, you read the passage he’s just completed, “and thus agrarian economies shifted to industrial productions ultimately redefining labor dynamics within an early britain still used to traditional artisan roles.” you look down at him, still as ever, almost as if waiting for your verdict.

“feels like a good place to call it, kats. the end?”

he shakes his head, answers without looking back at you and continues typing, slightly adjusting the wording so it sounds smoother. “nah. still needs another paragraph.”

“katsuki, your paragraphs are like 50 lines long!” you complain, slight whine in your tone. he didn’t like when you did that.

“well that’s what a paragraph is.” he moves his head to the side so you can hear him better.

“no, it’s not!”

he deletes a few words and types again, reworking the sentence.

“and so, agrarian economies moved to industrial production, redefining labor dynamics in early britain still familiar with traditional artisan roles.” he mutters, rereading it to himself to test it’s fluency, see if it sounds the way he wants it to.

“baby, you need a break.” your words are laced with genuine concern. “look at how tense your shoulders are.” you bring your hands to them and immediately he relaxes, your touch alleviating him.

you take this as an opportunity to run your fingers through his hair, deep pulls of tufts from the roots at his scalp to the very tips. he leans into your touch, groans quietly as you knead and massage his head, something very much needed, but then he remembers he’s still got this paper due and forcibly shocks himself up.

“promised me you weren’t gonna be a distraction.” he says firmly, hands gently pulling your own away from his hair.

“did i?” you playfully remark, squint your eyes a bit. you bend your knees and bring yourself to his level, paw at his hair once more and rake it behind his ear. his side profile was so handsome, jaw sharp and clenched.

“why don’t you take five and chill with me for a bit? maybe i can give you a massage, okay?” you kiss below his ear and watch his jaw loosen slightly. not as tight nor as tense.

“i’m gonna need more than five. especially if you’re gonna give me a massage,” he finally breaks, giving you that eye contact that made the butterflies in your tummy flutter at long last.

you giggle, “exactly!”

you sweeten your tone, drawl your vowels, “come on, please?”

he knows what you’re doing and it’s working. he smiles in a ‘you’ve got me, hands up’ sort of way and (falsely) begrudgingly turns his chair to face you with said smile.

you pull him up easily and he lets you drag him to his bed. happily flop down on it.

his hand finds its place on your thigh, the other by the dip of your waist. you enjoy the feeling. how firm his hold was and yet still ever so careful, like he was only focusing on you and how small you were in his large hands.

soon you lift your hands and cross them at the wrists behind katsuki’s neck, keep a close proximity between your noses. “lie down,” you simply say, quickly eyeing the mattress, crimson cover pulled tightly over it, very katsuki-esque.

defeated, he obliges. lets his chest meet the bed and stretches his long legs out, you kneeling to the side to make room.

once he’s finally sprawled out, you let your pelvis sit atop his, “sorry if i’m too heavy.”

he laughs heartily, the one that always makes your heart melt and you weak in the knees, “oh, shut up.” his sentence rumbles with the buzz of his laughter to which you offer him a soft smile, despite the fact that he can’t see your face.

“mmm, can you tell me where you feel the most tightness?” you ask politely.

he hums, then gestures to his upper back, around his shoulder blades, that sort of general area. “it’s mostly just my shoulders like you said. and a bit down here too.” he hovers his hand over where your knees rest on opposite sides of his waist.

without saying anything, you quickly start. first spreading your hands over the tight muscle by his shoulders repeatedly. you know you’re doing a good job when you hear katsuki’s relieved groans. letting out all that pressure and stress that’s built up in his body.

your hands slowly drag down the form of his body, thumbs kneading in on his lower back. again, another groan sounds from katsuki’s lips. “ahh, just like that, baby.”

you blush, thinking of the many times that sentence has been uttered in a very different context but you enjoy making your boyfriend feel good in any way. enjoy how his breathing becomes deeper the more you move your hands.

“it’ll feel better if you take your shirt off,” you suggest.

“mmm, yeah…" he nods, "yeah, you’re probably right.” he gets up and you slide off him easily. watch him coolly tug the black cotton material over his head, eyes glaze over when you see his taut body underneath, finally unveiled.

katsuki flops back into the mattress face down as soon as he chucks the fitted tee away, he’s clearly enjoying his break.

you chuckle, “didn’t i tell you? you should’ve stopped over an hour ago,” you step back over him so your pelvises are connected again.

he grabs your thigh, face still deep into the mattress so his voice is muffled, “i know, you’re right, baby. ya always are.” your cheeks grow warm at the sincerity of his tone.

you repeat your massaging motions with your soft hands, feel the vibration of his moans through his flesh before bringing your lips close to between his shoulder blades. “awh, baby,” he says, “gotta pay you back for this somehow. maybe i’ll marry ya after we graduate.”

“yeah? that a fact?” you tease.

“yup.” he rubs his hand up and down over your leg. “can take your last name or you can have mine. whichever you prefer.”

“hmm. hyphenate?”

“your choice, darling.”

you sigh contently, “always love when you call me that,” you say quietly as you continue pressing into his tender tissue.

“i’ll call you it more often then,” his hand slips down and easily wraps round your ankle, his thumb rolls circles into the bone as his fingers clasp against the slight dip in your foot.

“you mind getting up so i can kiss you?”

you giggle, “nope,” holding your ground.

he moves from underneath you anyway and quickly grabs you before you can run away. “come here, you,” he playfully grunts.

your laugh is melodious in his ears, he’d do anything to hear more of it. his favourite sound. among others.

he cups your face before you can escape and kisses you passionately. you grab at his wrists, smile still lifting your cheeks and stretching the skin around your eyes taut.

it’s heated at first but then slows into something more intimate and raw, almost innocent. he then pulls away from your lips and plasters smooches all over your face. each kiss louder than the last as you simper each time.

when he stops, he’s still holding your face. his eyes watching how the highlights in yours grows, iris thin in how full the pupils are, he sees his own reflection in them and your pretty smile.

“i love you.” he says, unabashedly.

you lean into his touch, kiss his palm, “i love you, too.” your small hand over his much larger one holding your cheeks. “let’s go to sleep?” you ask, looking at him through your lashes.

his smile is sweet when he strokes the skin by your eye for no particular reason other than to just feel more of you, “yeah.” kisses you there. “let’s go to sleep.”

© WHISPER 2K24 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

[anthonys237thfreckle]

Love in Oklahoma - Javier ‘Javi’ x F! reader

prompt: javi and his girl bought a small farm in Oklahoma, reworked it and adopted little nancy!

TW: mentions of injury, implications of smut

i saw @tempesttamers make a post about seeing anthony ramos with nancy and they needed a javi fic who has a miniature cow named nancy lol. it was such a cute idea, so thanks for that!

Whenever it wasn’t tornado season down in Oklahoma, the excitement was buzzing for the next one. Everyone round the bonfire of another cheap motel, all the storm chasers would gather and share stories of chasing a twister or two, the failures, close calls, successes… reminiscing the adrenaline high everyone felt in their own way.

But you and Javi had no place to stay apart from those motels. Your homes were far away from the southwest, and though storm season was over, Javi still needed to do a lot of research and analytics for storm patterns, their paths, conditions, humidity levels and even sometimes forecasts. Storm Par was busy all year.

Since he dragged you from your own job in the city down to Tornado Alley, you felt like you belonged down there, among the wheat fields, cheap food, thick humid air and wide skies; you and Javi would stargaze at times, and they seemed brighter down there for two reasons. One, there was no pollution for them to shy away behind and two, Javi was there - the man who seemed to make everything brighter.

So rather than stay basically homeless, Javi saved up some money and bought a little house with a farm. Barely half the size of a football field, it was selling for pretty cheap, so you Javi bought it for the two of you.

It wasn’t grand, but you two loved it very much. A small, simple, two story farmhouse with a porch, wide and welcoming, its wooden steps leading up to the red-brick house. Inside, it was definitely in need of some handiwork, but it was inviting nonetheless. After all, blank walls are nothing but a canvas to store potential. Dark stained wooden floorboards run throughout, giving it a rustic elegance. Though scuffed by generations of footsteps, they were very well polished. The kitchen, an open wide space, the heart of the home, had a traditional water pump basin and sink. You grinned when you saw it, turning to Javi who raised his eyebrows in shock and chuckled quietly, shaking his head in amusement. The sink sat beneath a window with a picturesque view of the backyard. White wooden cabinets adorned the walls, giving the kitchen its own light. Though the house was partially furnished, providing you with a large, rectangular dining table, some vintage pantry cabinets, and some sturdy chairs the previous owners left behind.

The second floor was led by some creaking wooden steps, and after climbing the short flight, you were met with a master bedroom with a large window overlooking the front yard, connected to a bathroom with checkered floor tiles, one of your new favourite things. They had a normal tap unlike the kitchen basin downstairs, and large mirror with some storage units and a shower. The other room, another bedroom, was smaller in comparison, but still had a window and a large bookshelf covering one whole wall. The other bathroom, almost as large as a room itself, was spacious, with two sinks, a rainshower, and bathtub.

Needless to say, you two fell in love with the house.

Once you two moved in, you both started to rework the place a little. Javi invited some close friends from Storm par and you invited Kate and the Tornado Wranglers to held paint the walls. Once that was done, everyone went out for dinner at a local diner, letting the stench of fresh paint air out. 2 weeks of relentless reworking went by, the crew made everything a lot faster; the house was homely, cozy, inviting. A bit of a contrast to the two city people you two were, but all the hard work made it all the more impressive. All your old stuff was shifted in, the crew helping you move all the heavy furniture, then left you two to do your own thing. Once everything was furnished, you both fell asleep on your shared bed upstairs, holding each other close.

After a day of rest, you both spent from sunrise to sunset out on the farm. Javi drove you to the farmer’s market, finding people who sold nearly mature crops with the purpose of repotting. You both bought 3 tomato plants - one in each colour: purple, red and yellow - 2 cucumbers, some Napa cabbage, romaine lettuce, arugula, some raspberry and blueberry shrubs. Once back the sun was high, you both slathered some sunscreen on and spent hours outside, repotting everything into the fertile southwestern soil.

The Tornado Wranglers came over for housewarming, bearing gifts; Kate bought you a pot of flowers, with her own recipe for a fertilizer which wasn’t damaging. Tyler brought a handmade sign saying ‘Not our first farmhouse!’ with the ‘Not’ crossed out in red paint. You accepted it with a laugh, and Javi just rolled his eyes playfully. Boone bought you both a vintage polaroid camera, and you had the idea of taking a photo of everyone who visited this house, and sticking it on the wall near the entrance, as a cute little housewarming idea. Lily brought some food, her famous enchiladas. Dani bought you two a weighted blanket and a toolbox, knowing how handy that can get. Dexter bought you two some encyclopedias and books you two would definitely enjoy. Everyone shared laughs and jokes and memories over dinner, and you both realized how this farmhouse really changed your lives.

You both started living a new life together, which contrasted everything before.

You always had a knack for baking and cooking, but only did so occasionally, because you could always buy bread from the supermarket, and you were busy. Now that you had joined Storm Par (once you cornered Javi and Scott into finding ethical investors) you both worked from home, giving you a lot of time for each other, and equally important, yourselves. Now, not a weekend went by when you went on a baking spree, pulling in Javi to help you out leading to flour fights, stolen chaste kisses where he’d lift you onto the counter, and everything in between. You baked sourdough, focaccia, dinner rolls, peanut butter cookies, muffins with fresh blueberries from the yard.

Javi rarely ate breakfast, mostly because he was too lazy or never had the will to eat anything shitty anyways, so every morning he’d be blessed with a platter of fresh herbed butter on sourdough toast, free range eggs from some chickens you both bought, and crispy organic bacon. Now, he claims breakfast is his second favourite meal, and when you ask what comes first, he just gives you a knowing look, which ends up with him getting flicked on the forehead.

All in all, your lives had changed for the better, but it was only about to get even better.

As you both drove back from the farmer’s market one evening, you saw a little curled up black and white creature on the side of the road

“Hey, baby, look..” you pointed over, and his eyes followed yours.

“Is that-” he slammed the breaks, rushing out of the car, you following behind.

It was a baby cow, or a miniature one, and its leg had a horrible gash on it.

“Its owners probably ditched her, pool gal…” He said softly, stroking the calf’s head when he found no ear tag on her.

You and Javi shared a look, and a silent communication went between you two. You needed to help her out.

You rushed over to your trunk, pouring out some milk and giving her some sustenance in the hopes of earning her trust. After carefully lifting her, making sure she didn’t thrash around, Javi put her in the backseat after you put a blanket down. You sat with her, the animals’ head resting in your lap. You drove a little way out of town for a vet, and after a quick checkup, you were given some ointment, and since the calf was abandoned, you both decided to keep it.

“Come on, Nancy” Javi said soothingly, carrying calf back into the car.

“Nancy?” you chuckled “We’re naming her already?”

“Yeah” Javi said with a chuckle “I like Nancy” he smiled, petting the calf’s head

“So do I” You said after a moment of thought. “Let’s get going”

Once everyone was back home, you brought out a wheelbarrow, and Javi put Nancy in there, the both of you gently bringing her to the barn. Once she was settled on a pile of hay, Javi gently tied her neck to a pole, making sure it wasn’t cutting anything off. You brought a bottle of milk with you, feeding her as her big black eyes got drowsier.

“Can I sleep here with her?” Javi asked you with concern.

“In the barn?” you laughed “Seriously?”

“I’m dead serious, (name)” Javi said, a look of determination you couldn’t fight.

“Alright, let me get the limoncello candle” you said in fake annoyance. Javi smiled, and called out.

“Love you, baby!”

—

Once you came back with the lit limoncello candle to ward off any bugs, setting it in the corner, you brought some sleeping bags and a bottle of water and milk, for you two and Nancy.

“I’m sleeping here with you” You said, handing him a sleeping bag.

“You don’t have to..” Javi said softly, never taking his eyes off Nancy as he stoked her head, tracing the blotches of black on her cream fur.

“I want to” you reassured, settling into the sleeping bag. “G’night, Javi” you murmured after giving him a sweet peck on the lips.

“Love you” he said, watching you over his shoulder as you settled in for the night.

“Love you too” you yawned “You know, if you changed your mind-”

“No” He interrupted you stubbornly “I’m staying here with Nancy” He reinforced.

“Whatever you say, baby” you chuckled, closing your own droopy eyes. “Make sure to actually catch some sleep”

“Yeah, I will. I promise” He nodded. “Goodnight, (name), I love you”

“Love you too, Jalapeño” you chuckled “Goodnight”

Javi chuckled at the nickname you loved using, and watched as you fell asleep. He looked over at a now asleep Nancy and smiled. He was so happy he bought this little home with you. He looked over at you again, then crawled over, unzipping the sleeping bag.

“Javier….” you whined “I was falling asleep!”

“Hold on just a second, baby..” He unzipped the sleeping bag, detached the zippers on his own one, and attached the two bags together and crawled inside, zipping it back up.

“Now we can cuddle!” he grinned, and you shook your head with a chuckle, burying your head in his chest and wrapping your arms around his torso.

“Okay, now really goodnight.” you murmured with mock annoyance.

“Yeah, really” He chuckled, nodding. “Goodnight, love”.

And with that, you both fell asleep in the barn, in each other’s arms, alongside your new companion. Javi dreamt of your lives progressing in this little farmhouse, filling it up with kids, maybe a German Shepherd… ironically, the house did have a white picket fence too, which made everything all the more cliche. But he didn’t care how much of a sap he was around you - since you seemed to love it anyway. Your lives had gotten so much.. lovelier.

If anything, you both found more love here, in Oklahoma.

[jullbnt]

I don't know if this is too simple for a request, but how about Twilight Princess Link as a child with Ocarina of Time Link acting as a father figure next to him? (Feel free to reject this though if you have too much on your plate!!)

Oh my heart 🥺

I've wanted to draw baby Twilight for a while so this is perfect!! I don't know if you had something that soft in mind but here it is :)

And here’s another quick sketch of the Hero of Time passing on his most sacred knowledge of magic beans 😆

(Idk I thought it was a cute idea? Maybe I’ll rework it later)

I sprained my ankle yesterday and am in quite a bit of pain right now so this felt comforting to draw (and now I need more Time being a dad)

The good side of things is that I'm on medical leave for the week so I'll have plenty of time to work on your requests 😁

———————

I won’t accept more requests at the moment! This is a request I received for my 500 followers celebration and I still have a lot to do :)

Answered art requests

[acealistair]

Dragon Age: The Veilguard GameInformer Article Transcribed

I saw some people lamenting that they had no way to read the GameInformer article, and while MVP dalishious posted screenshots of the article here, I figured that might be a little difficult to read, plus people with screen readers can't read it of course. So I've gone ahead and transcribed it! Full thing below the cut!

As a note, I transcribed it without correcting any typos, capitalization errors, etc. that the article itself had (as much as it pained me, omg the author capitalizes so many things that shouldn't be and vice versa). There may be some typos on my part as I did this as quickly as I could, so apologies in advance for any you might encounter.

I have also created a plot-spoiler-free version of the article for those who would like to learn more about the mechanics of the game without learning more plot info than they want!

Throughout my research and preparation for a trip to BioWare’s Edmonton, Canada, office for this cover story, I kept returning to the idea that its next game, Dragon Age: The Veilguard (formerly subtitled Dreadwolf) is releasing at a critical moment for the storied developer. The previous installment, Dragon Age: Inquisition, hit PlayStation, Xbox, and PC a decade ago. It was the win BioWare needed, following the 2012 release of Mass Effect 3 with its highly controversial and (for many) disappointing ending. Inquisition launched two years later, in 2014, to rave reviews and, eventually, various Gameo the Year awards, almost as if a reminder of what the studio was capable of.

Now, in 2024, coincidentally, the next Dragon Age finds itself in a similar position. BioWare attempted a soft reboot of Mass Effect with Andromeda in 2017, largely seen as a letdown among the community, and saw its first live-service multiplayer attempt in 2019’s Anthem flounder in the tricky waters of the genre; it aimed for a No Man’s Sky-like turnaround with Anthem Next, but that rework was canceled in 2021. Like its predecessor, BioWare’s next Dragon Age installment is not only a new release in a beloved franchise, but is another launch with the pressure of BioWare’s prior misses; a game fans hope will remind them the old BioWare is still alive today.

“Having been in this industry for 25 years, you see hits and misses, and it’s all about building off of those hits and learning from those misses,” BioWare general manager Gary McKay, who’s been with the studio since January 2020, tells me.

As McKay gives me a tour of the office, I can’t help but notice how much Anthem is scattered around it. More than Mass Effect, more than Dragon Age, there’s a lot of Anthem - posters, real-life replicas of its various Javelins, wallpaper, and more. Recent BioWare news stories tell of leads and longtime studio veterans laid off and others departing voluntarily. Veilguard’s development practically began with the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020. When I ask McKay about the tumultuousness of BioWare and how he, as the studio manager, makes the team feel safe in the product it’s developing, he says it’s about centering on the creative vision. “[When] we have that relentless pursuit for quality, and we have passion and people in the right roles, a lot of the other stuff you’re talking about just fades into the background.”

That’s a sentiment echoed throughout the team I speak to: Focus on what makes a BioWare game great and let Veilguard speak for itself. Though I had no expectations going in - it’s been 10 years since the last Drag Age, after all, and BioWare has been cagey about showing this game publicly - my expectations have been surpassed. This return to Thedas, the singular continent of the franchise, feels like both a warm welcome for returning fans and an impressive entry point for first-time players.

New Age, New Name

At the start of each interview, I address a dragon-sized elephant in the room with the game’s leads. What was Dragon Age: Dreadwolf is now Dragon Age: The Veilguard. Why?

“These games are reflections of the teams that make them, and as part of that, it means we learn a lot about what the heart and soul of the game really is as we’re developing it,” Veilguard game director Corinne Busche tells me. “We quickly learned and realized that the absolute beating heart of this game is these authentic, diverse companions. And when we took a step back, as we always do, we always check our decisions and make sure they still represent the game we’re trying to build.”

Dreadwolf no longer did that, but each member of BioWare I speak to tells me The Veilguard does. And while I was initially abrasive to the change - lore aside, Dreadwolf is simply a cool name - I warmed up to The Veilguard.

Solas, a Loki-esque trickster member of the Elven pantheon of gods known as the Dread Wolf, created the Veil long ago while attempting to free the elves from their slave-like status in Thedas. This Veil is a barrier between the magical Fade and Thedas, banishing Elven gods and removing Elven immortality from the world. But players didn’t know that in Inquisition, where he is introduced as a mage ally and companion. However, at the end of Inquisition’s Trespasser DLC, which sets the stage for Veilguard, we learn in a shocking twist that Solas wants to destroy the Veil and restore Elves to their former glory. However, doing so would bring chaos to Thedas, and those who call it home, the people who eventually become The Veilguard, want to stop him.

“There’s an analogy I like to use, which is, ‘If you want to carve an elephant out of marble, you just take a piece of marble and remove everything that doesn’t look like an elephant,’” Veilguard creative director John Epler says. “As we were building this game, it became really clear that it was less that we were trying to make The Veilguard and more like The Veilguard was taking shape as we built the game. Solas is still a central figure in it. He’s still a significant character. But really, the focus shifts to the team.

“[We] realized Dreadwolf suggests a title focused on a specific individual, whereas The Veilguard, much like Inquisition, focuses more on the team.”

Creating Your Rook

Veilguard’s character creator is staggeringly rich, with a dizzying number of customizable options. Busche tells me that inclusivity is at the heart of it, noting that she believes everyone can create someone who represents them on-screen.

There are four races to choose from when customizing Rook, the new playable lead - Elves, Qunari, Humans, and Dwarves - and hundreds of options to customize your character beyond that. You can select pronouns separately from gender and adjust physical characteristics like height, shoulder width, chest size, glute and bulge size, hip width, how bloodshot your eyes are, how crooked your nose is, and so much more. There must be hundreds of sliders to customize these body proportions and features like skin hue, tone, melanin, and just about anything else you might adjust on a character. Oh, and there’s nudity in Veilguard, too, which I learn firsthand while customizing my Rook.

“The technology has finally caught up to our ambition,” Dragon Age series art director Matt Rhodes tells me as we decide on my warrior-class Qunari’s backstory, which affects faction allegiance, in-game dialogue, and reputation standing - we choose the pirate-themed Lords of Fortune.

Notably, instead of a warrior class, we could have chosen mage or rogue. All three classes have unique specializations, bespoke skill trees, and special armors, too. And though our Rook is aligned with the Lords of Fortune faction, there are others to choose from including the Grey Wardens, Shadow Dragons, The Mourn Watch, and more. There is some flexibility in playstyle thanks to specializations, but your class largely determines the kind of actions you can perform in combat.

“Rook ascends because of competency, not because of a magical McGuffin,” BioWare core lead and Mass effect executive producer Michael Gamble tells me in contrast to Inquisition’s destiny-has-chosen-you-characterization.

“Rook is here because they choose to be, and that speaks to the kind of character that we’ve built.” Busche adds, “Someone needs to stop this, and Rook says, ‘I guess that’s me.’”

Beyond the on-paper greatness of this character creator, its customizability speaks to something repeated throughout my BioWare visit: Veilguard is a single-player, story-driven RPG. Or in other words, the type of game that made BioWare as storied as it is. McKay tells me the team explored a multiplayer concept early in development before scratching it to get back to BioWare basics. The final game will feature zero multiplayer and no microtransactions.

Happy to hear that, I pick our first and last name, then one of four voices, with a pitch shifter for each, too, and we’re off to Minrathous.

Exploring Tevinter For The First Time

Throughout the Dragon Age series, parts of Thedas are discussed by characters and referenced by lore material but left to the imagination of players as they can’t visit them. Veilguard immediately eschews this, setting its opening prologue mission in Minrathous, the capital of the  Tevinter Empire. Frankly, I’m blown away by how good it looks. It’s my first time seeing Veilguard in action and my first look at a Dragon Age game in nearly a decade. Time has treated this series well, and so has technology.

Epler, who’s coming up on 17 years at BioWare, acknowledges that the franchise has always been at the will of its engine. Dragon Age: Origins and II’s Eclipse Engine worked well for the time, but today, they show their age. Inquisition was BioWare’s first go at Ea’s proprietary Frostbite engine - mind you, an engine designed for first-person shooters and decidedly not multi-character RPGs - and the team struggled there, too. Epler and Busche agree Veilguard is the first RPG where BioWare feels fully in command of Frostbite and, more generally, its vision for this world.

We begin inside a bar. Rook and Varric are looking for Neve Gallus, a detective mage somewhere in Minrathous. The first thing players will do once Veilguard begins is select a dialogue option, something the team says speaks to their vision of a story-forward, choice-driven adventure. After a quick bar brawl cutscene that demonstrates Rook’s capabilities, there’s another dialogue choice, and different symbols here indicate the type of tone you can roll with. There’s a friendly, snarky, and rough-and-tough direct choice, and I later learn of a more romantically inclined “emotional” response. These are the replies that will build relationships with characters, romantic and platonic alike, but you’re welcome to ignore this option. However, your companions can romance each other, so giving someone the cold shoulder might nudge them into the warm embrace of another. We learn Neve is in Dumat Plaza and head into the heart of Minrathous.

Rhodes explains BioWare’s philosophy for designing this city harkens back to a quick dialogue from Inquisition’s Dorian Pavus. Upon entering Halamshiral’s Winter Palace, the largest venue in Dragon Age history at that point, Dorian notes that it’s cute, adorable even, alluding to his Tevinter heritage. If Dorian thinks the largest venue in Dragon Age history is cute and adorable, what must the place he’s from be like? “It’s like this,” Rhodes says as we enter Minrathous proper in-game.

Minrathous is huge, painted in magical insignia that looks like cyberpunk-inspired neon city signs and brimming with detail. Knowing it’s a city run by mages and built entirely upon magic, Rhodes says the team let its imagination run wild. The result is the most stunning and unique city in the series. Down a wide, winding pathway, there’s a pub with a dozen NPCs - Busche says BioWare used Veilguard’s character creator to make each in-world NPC except for specific characters like recruitable companions - and a smart use of verticality, scaling, and wayfinding to push us toward the main attraction: Solas, attempting to tear down the Veil.

All hell is breaking loose. Pride Demons are rampaging through the city. Considering Pride Demons were bosses in prior games, seeing them roaming freely in the prologue of Veilguard speaks to the stakes of this opener. Something I appreciate throughout our short journey through Minrathous to its center below is the cinematography at play. As a Qunari, my character stands tall, and Rhodes says the camera adjusts to ensure larger characters loom over those below. On the flip side, the camera adjusts for dwarves to demonstrate their smaller stature compared to those around them.

This, coupled with movie-liked movement through the city as BioWare showcases the chaos happening at the hands of Solas’ Veil-break ritual, creates a cinematic start that excited me, and I’m not even hands-on with the game.

Eventually, we reach Neve, who has angered some murderous blood mages, and rescue her from danger. Or rather, help… barely. Neve is quite capable, and her well-acted dialogue highlights that. Together, Varric, returning character Lace Harding, who is helping us stop Solas and is now a companion, Rook, and Neve defeat some demons. They then take on some Venatori Cultists seizing this chaotic opportunity to take over the city and other enemies before making it to Solas’ hideout. As we traverse deeper and deeper into this hideout, more of Solas’ murals appear on the walls, and things get more Elven. Rhodes says this is because you’re symbolically going back in time, as Minrathous is a city built by mages on the bones of what was originally the home of Elves.

At the heart of his hideout, we discover Solas’ personal Eluvian. This magical mirror-like structure allows the gang to teleport (and mechanically fast-travel) to Arlathan Forest, where Solas is secretly performing the ritual (while its effects pour out into Minrathous).

Here, we encounter a dozen or so demons, which BioWare has fully redesigned on the original premise of these monstrous creatures. Rhodes says they’re creatures of feeling and live and die off the emotions around them. As such, they are just a floating nervous system, push into this world from the Fade, rapidly assembled into bodies out of whatever scraps they find.

I won’t spoil the sequence of events here, but we stop Solas’ ritual and seemingly save the world… for now. Rook passes out moments later and wakes up in a dream-like landscape to the voice of none  other than Solas. He explains a few drops of Rook’s blood interacted with the ritual, connecting them to the Fade forever. He also says he was attempting to move the Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain, part of the Evanuris or Elven gods of ancient times, to a new prison because the one he had previously constructed was failing. Unfortunately, Solas is trapped in the Fade by our doing, and these gods are now free. It’s up to Rook to stop them; thus, the stage for our adventure is set.

The Veilguard Who’s Who

While we learned a lot about returning character but first-time companion Lace Harding, ice mage private detective Neve Gallus, and veil jumper Bellara Lutara, BioWare shared some additional details about other companions Rook will meet later in the game. Davrin is a charming Grey Warden who is also an excellent monster hunter; Emmrich is a member of Nevarra’s Mourn Watch and a necromancer with a skeleton assistant named Manfred; Lucanis is a pragmatic assassin whose bloodline descends from the criminal House of Crows organization; And Taash is a dragon hunter allied with the piratic Lords of Fortune. All seven of these characters adorn this Game Informer issue, with Bellara up front and center in the spotlight.

The Lighthouse

After their encounter with Solas, Rook wakes up with Harding and Neve in the lair of the Dread Wolf himself, a special magical realm in the Fade called the Lighthouse. It’s a towering structure centered amongst various floating islands. Epler says, much like Skyhold in Inquisition, the Lighthouse is where your team bonds, grows, and prepares for its adventures throughout the campaign. It also becomes more functional and homier as you do. Already, though, it’s a beautifully distraught headquarters for the Veilguard, although they aren’t quite referring to themselves as that just yet.

Because it was Solas’ home base of operations, it’s gaudy, with his fresco murals adorning various walls, greenery hanging from above, and hues of purple and touches of gold everywhere. Since it’s in the Fade, a realm of dreams that responds to your world state and emotion, the Lighthouse reflects the chaos and disrepair of the Thedas you were in moments ago. I see a clock symbol over a dialogue icon in the distance, which signals an optional dialogue option. We head there, talk to Neve, select a response to try our hand at flirting, and then head to the dining hall.

A plate, a fork and knife, and a drinking chalice are at the end of a massive table. Rhodes says this is both a funny (and sad) look at Solas’ isolated existence and an example of the detail BioWare’s art team has put into Veilguard. “It’s a case of letting you see the story,” he says. “It’s like when you go to a friend's house and see their bedroom for the first time; you get to learn more about them.” From the dining hall, we gather the not-quite-Veilguard in the library, which Busche says in the central area of the Lighthouse and where your party will often regroup and prepare for what’s next. The team decides it must reach the ritual site back in Arlathan Forest, and Busche says I’m missing unique dialogue options here because I’m Qunari; an Elf would have more to say about the Fade due to their connection to it. The same goes for my backstory earlier in Minrathous. If I had picked the Shadow Dragons background, Neve would have recognized me immediately, with unique dialogue.

With our next move decided, we head to Solas’ Eluvian to return to Arlathan Forest and the ritual site. However, it’s not fully functional without Solas, and while it returns us to Arlathan Forest, it’s not exactly where we want to go. A few moments later, we’re back in the Arlathan Forest, and just before a demon-infested suit of mechanized armor known as a Sentinel can attack, two new NPCs appear to save us: Strife and Irelin. Harding recognizes them, something Dragon Age comic readers might know about. They’re experts in ancient elven magic and part of the new Veil Jumpers faction. The ensuing cutscene, where we learn Strife and Irelin need help finding someone named Bellara Lutara, is long, with multiple dialogue options. That’s something I’m noticing with Veilguard, too - there’s a heavy emphasis on storytelling and dialogue, and it feels deep and meaty, like a good fantasy novel. BioWare doesn’t shy away from minutes-long cutscenes.

Busche says that’s intentional, too. “For Rook, [this story’s about] what does it meant to be a leader,” she says. “You’re defining their leadership style with your choices.” Knowing that Rook is the leader of the Veilguard, I’m excited to see how far this goes. From the sound of it, my team will react to my chosen leadership style in how my relationships play out. That’s demonstrated within the game’s dialogue and a special relationship meter on each companion’s character screen.

Redefining Combat Once More

Bellara is deep within Arlathan Forest, and following the prolgoue’s events, something is up here. Three rings of massive rocks fly through the air, protecting what appears to be a central fortress. Demon Sentinels plague the surrounding lands, and after loading up a new save, we’re in control of a human mage.

Following the trend of prior Dragon Age games, Veilguard has completed the series’ shift from tactical strategy to real-time action, but fret not: a tactical pause-and-play mechanic returns to satiate fans who remember the series’ origins (pun intended). Though I got a taste of combat in the prologue, Veilguard’s drastic departure from all that came before it is even more apparent here.

Busche says player complete every swing in real-time, with special care taken to animation swing-through and canceling. There's a dash, a parry, the ability to charge moves, and a completely revamped healing system that allows you to use potions at your discretion by hitting right on the d-pad. You can combo attacks and even “bookmark” combos with a quick dash, which means you can pause a combo’s status with a dash to safety and continue the rest of the combo afterward. It looks even cooler than it sounds.

Like any good action game, there is a handful of abilities to customize your kit. And, if you want to maintain that real-time action feel, you can use them on the fly, so long as you take cooldowns into effect. But Veilguard’s pause-and-play gameplay mechanic, similar to Inquisition’s without the floating camera view, lets you bring things to halt for a healthy but optional dose of strategy.

In this screen, which essentially pauses the camera and pulls up a flashy combat wheel that highlights you and your companions’ skills, you can choose abilities, queue them up, and strategize with synergies and combos, all while targeting specific enemies. Do what you need to here, let go of the combat wheel, and watch your selections play out. Busche says she uses the combat wheel to dole out her companions’ attacks and abilities while sticking to the real-time action for her player-controlled Rook. On the other hand, Epler says he almost exclusively uses the combat wheel to dish out every ability and combo.

Busche says each character will play the same, in that you execute light and heavy attacks with hte same buttons, use abilities with the same buttons, and interact with the combo wheel in the same way, regardless of which class you select. But a sword-and-shield warrior, like we used in the prolgoue, can hip-fire or aim their shield to throw it like Captain America, whereas our human mage uses that same button to throw out magical ranged attacks. The warrior can parry incoming attacks, which can stagger enemies. The rogue gets a larger parry window. Our mage, however, can’t parry at all. Instead, they throw up a shield that blocks incoming attacks automatically so long as you have the mana to sustain it.

“What I see from Veilguard is a game that finally bridges the gap,” former Dragon Age executive producer Mark Darrah, who left BioWare in 2021 before joining the Veilguard team last year as a consultant, tells me. “Uncharitably, previous Dragon Age games got to the realm of ‘combat wasn’t too bad.’ In this game, the combat’s actually fun, but it does keep that thread that’s always been there. You have the focus on Rook, on your character, but still have that control and character coming into the combat experience from the other people in the party.”

“This is really the best Dragon Age game that I’ve ever played,” he adds, noting his bias. “This is the one where we get back to our roots of character-driven storytelling, have really fun combat, and aren’t making compromises.”

Watching Busche take down sentinels and legions of darkspawn on-screen, I can already sense Veilguard’s combat will likely end up my favorite in the series, although admittedly, as a fan of action games, I’m an easy sell here. It’s flashy, quick, and thanks to different types of health bars, like a greenish-blue one that represents barrier and is taken down most effectively with ranged attacks, a decent amount of strategy, even if you don’t use the pause-and-play combo wheel. Like the rest of the game, too, it’s gorgeous, with sprinkles, droplets, and splashes of magic in each attack our mage unleashes. Though I’m seeing the game run on a powerful PC, which is sure to be the best showcase of Veilguard, Epler tells me the game looks amazing on consoles - he’s been playing it on PlayStation 5 and enjoying it in both its fidelity and performance modes, but I’ll have to take his word for it.

Pressing Start

The start or pause screen is as important to a good RPG as the game outside the menus. Veilguard’s contains your map, journal, character sheets, skill tree, and a library for lore information. You can cross-compare equipment and equip new gear here for Rook and your companions, build weapon loadouts for quick change-ups mid-combat, and customize you and your party’s abilities and builds via an easy-to-understand skill tree. You won’t find minutiae here, “just real numbers,” Busche says. That means a new unlocked trait might increase damage by 25 percent against armor, but that’s as in-depth as the numbers get. Passive abilities unlock jump attacks and guarantee critical hit opportunities, while abilities add moves like a Wall of Fire to your arsenal (if you’re a mage). As you spec out this skill tree, which is 100 percent bespoke to each class, you’ll work closer to unlocking a specialization, of which there are three for each class, complete with a unique ultimate ability. Busche says BioWare’s philosophy here is “about changing the way you play, not statistical minutiae.”

Companion Customization

You can advance your bonds by helping companions on their own personal quests and by including them in your party for main quests. Every Relationship Level you rank up, shown on their character sheet, nets you a skill point to spend on them. Busche says the choices you make, what you say to companions, how you help them, and more all matter to their development as characters and party members. And with seven companions, there’s plenty to customize, from bespoke gear to abilities and more. Though each companion has access to five abilities, you can only take three into combat, so it’s important to strategize different combos and synergies within your party. Rhodes says beyond  this kind of customizable characterization, each companion has issues, problems, and personal quests to complete. “Bellara has her own story arc that runs parallel to and informs the story path you’re on,” Rhodes says.

In Entropy’s Grasp

As we progress through the forest and the current “In Entropy’s Grasp” mission, we finally find Bellara. She’s a veil jumper, the first companion you meet and recruit in-game (unlike Neve, who automatically joins), and the centerpiece of this issue’s cover image. Because our mage’s background is Veil Jumper, we get some unique dialogue. Bellara explains we’re all trapped in a Veil Bubble, and there’s no way out once you pass through it. Despite the dire situation, Bellara is bubbly, witty, and charming.

“When designing companions, they’re the load-bearing pillars for everything,” Rhodes says. “They’re the face of their faction, and in this case [with Bellara], their entire area of the world. She’s your window into Arlathan Forest.” Rhodes describes her as a sweetheart and nerd for ancient elven artifacts. As such ,she’s dressed more like an academic than a combat expert, although her special arm gauntlet is useful both for tinkering with her environment and taking down enemies.

Unlike Neve, who uses ice magic like our Rook and can slow down time with a special ability, Bellara specializes in electricity, and she can also use magic to heal you, something Busche says Dragon Age fans have been desperate to have in a game. Busche says if you don’t direct Neve and Bellara, they’re fully independent and will attack on their own. But synergizing your team will add to the fun and strategy of combat. Bellara’s electric magic is effective against Sentinels, which is great because we currently only have access to ice. However, without Bellara, we could also equip a rune that converts my ice magic, for a brief duration, into electricity to counter the Sentinels.

As we progress through Arlathan Forest, we encounter more and more darkspawn. Bellara mentions the darkspawn have never been this far before because the underground Deep Roads, where they usually escape from, aren’t nearby. However, with blighted Elven gods roaming the world, and thanks to Blight’s radiation-like spread, it’s a much bigger threat in Veilguard than in any Dragon Age before it.

I continue to soak in the visuals of Veilguard with Arlathan Forest’s elven ruins, dense greenery, and disgusting Blight tentacles and pustules; it’s perhaps the most impressive aspect of my time seeing the game, although everything else is making a strong impression, too. I am frustrated about having to watch the game rather than play it, to be honest. I’m in love with the art style, which is more high fantasy than anything in the series thus far and almost reminiscent of the whimsy of Fable, a welcome reprieve from the recent gritty Game of Thrones trend in fantasy games. Rhodes says that’s the result of the game’s newfound dose of magic.

“The use of magic has been an evolution as the series has gone on,” he says. “It’s something we’ve been planning for a while because Solas has been planning all this for a while. In the past, you could hint at cooler magical things in the corner because you couldn’t actually go there, but now we actually can, and it’s fun to showcase that.”

Busche, Epler, and Rhodes warn me that Arlathan Forest’s whimsy will starkly contrast to other areas. They promise some grim locations and even grimmer story moments because, without that contrast, everything falls flat. Busche likens it to a “thread of optimism” pulled through otherworldly chaos ravaging Thedas. For now, the spunky and effervescent Bellara is that thread.

As we progress deeper into the forest, Bellara spots a floating fortress and thinks the artifact needed to destroy the Veil Bubble is in there. To reach it, though, wem ust remove the floating rock rings, and Bellara’s unique ability, Tinker, can do just that by interacting with a piece of ancient elven technology nearby. Busche says Rook can acquire abilities like Tinker later to complete such tasks in instances where Bellara, for example, isn’t in the party.

Bellara must activate three of these in Arlathan Forest to reach the floating castle, and each one we activate brings forth a slew of sentinels, demons, and darkspawn to defeat. Busche does so with ease, showcasing high-level gameplay by adding three stacks of arcane build-up to create an Arcane Bomb on an enemy, which does devastating damage after being hit by a heavy attack. Now, she begins charging a heavy attack on her magical staff, then switches to magical daggers in a second loadout accessed with a quick tap of down on the d-pad to unleash some quick attacks, then back to the staff to charge it some more and unleash a heavy attack.

After a few more combat encounters, including one against a sentinel that’s “Frenzied,” which means it hits harder, moves faster, and has more health, we finally reach the center of the temple. Within is a particular artifact known as the Nadas Dirthalen, which Bellara says means “the inevitability of knowledge.” Before we can advance with it, a darkspawn Ogre boss attacks. It hits hard, has plenty of unblockable, red-coded attacks, and a massive shield we must take down first. However, it’s weak to fire, and our new fire staff is perfect for the situation.

After taking down this boss in a climactic arena fight, Bellara uses a special crystal to power the artifact and remove it from a pedestal, destroying the Veil Bubble. Then, the Nadas Dirthalen comes alive as an Archive Spirit, but because the crystal used to power it breaks, we learn little about this spirit before it disappears. Fortunately, Bellara thinks she can fix it - fixing broken stuff is kind of her thing, Epler says - so the group heads back to the Veil Jumper camp and, as interested as I am in learning what happens next, the demo ends. It’s clear that even after a few hours with the game’s opening, I’ve seen a nigh negligible amount of game; frustrating but equally as exciting.

Don’t Call It An Open World

Veilguard is not an open world, even if some of its explorable areas might fee like one. Gamble describes Veilguard’s Thedas as a hub-and-spoke design where “the needs of the story are served by the level design.” A version of Inquisition’s Crossroads, a network of teleporting Eluvians, returns, and it’s how players will traverse across northern Thedas. Instead of a connected open world, players will travel from Eluvian to Eluvian to different stretches of this part of the continent. This allows BioWare to go from places like Minrathous to tropical beaches to Arlathan Forest to grim and gothic areas and elsewhere. Some of these areas are larger and full of secrets and treasures. Others are smaller and more focused on linear storytelling. Arlathan Forest is an example of this, but there are still optional paths and offshoots to explore for loot, healing potion refreshes, and other things. There’s a minimap in each location, though linear levels like “In Entropy’s Grasp” won’t have the fog of war that disappears as you explore like some of Veilguard’s bigger locations. Regardless, BioWare says Veilguard has the largest number of diverse biomes in series history.

Dragon’s Delight

With a 10-hour day at BioWare behind me after hours of demo gameplay and interviews with the leads, I’m acutely aware of my favorite part of video games: the surprises. I dabbled with Origins and II and put nearly 50 hours into Inquisition, but any familiarity with the series the latter gave me had long since subsided over the past decade. I wanted to be excited about the next Dragon Age as I viewed each teaser and trailer, but other than seeing the words “Dragon Age,” I felt little. Without gameplay, without a proper look at the actual game we’ll all be playing this fall, I struggled to remember why Inquisition sucked me in 10 years ago.

This trip reminded me.

Dragon Age, much like the Thedas of Veilguard, lives in the uncertainty: The turbulence of BioWare’s recent release history and the lessons learned from it, the drastic changes to each Dragon Age’s combat, the mystery of its narrative, and the implications of its lore. It’s all a part of the wider Dragon Age story and why this studio keeps returning to this world. It’s been a fertile franchise for experimentation. While Veilguard is attempting to branch out in unique ways, it feels less like new soil and more like the harvest BioWare has been trying to cultivate since 2009, and I’m surprised by that.

I’m additionally surprised, in retrospect, how numb I’ve been to the game before this. I’m surprised by BioWare’s command over EA’s notoriously difficult Frostbite engine to create its prettiest game yet. I’m surprised by this series’ 15-year transition from tactical strategy to action-forward combat. I’m surprised by how much narrative thought the team has poured into these characters, even for BioWare. Perhaps having no expectations will do that to you. But most of all, with proper acknowledgement that I reserve additional judgment until I actually play the game, I’m surprised that Veilguard might just be the RPG I’m looking forward to most this year.

[justheblueberry]

handbinding of A Study in Scarlette by kittebasu

There are people who want to live forever, and then there is Shinichi, who just wants to live a little longer than this.

this bind has been in my head since i first read the fic like, three years ago. i dreamed up so many ideas for it, for so long, and now it's finally done! the typeset was actually done in early 2022, back when i was still using google docs, but it went through a few iterations because i was just. so. fiddly. with every aspect of this book. it needed to be perfect (as close to perfect as i, an amateur bookbinder out of my depth, can get) and it had to be absolutely over the top, to reflect the insane amount of love and care that the author put into the fic itself.

the first time i read this fic, i barely knew what detective conan was, much less all of the intricate plot details; i was just along for the ride, but by the end i was completely invested. i went back and watched through the anime as well as a few movies (it took me six months) and then read the fic again. and then a few more times. kaishin and the world of dcmk has utterly gripped me. it's 100% this fic's fault and i love it so, so, much.

i went through a few iterations of visual designs and i'm really happy with the little details i managed to squeeze in.

the entire color scheme is based around red, because 1) it's a murder mystery, 2) for scarlette shinamoto (and the title of the fic as well as the original holmes novel it references), and 3) the irony of "lady red" actually being red. the secret fourth reason is that i think red/gold is a super sexy color combo.

i sewed the textblock with red thread to reference holmes' "scarlet thread of murder".

another detail i love is the five yen coin bookmark, it was one of my first ideas and it turned out even better than i thought.

i wanted the endpapers to evoke a sense of the white marbled floor of the ballroom, with the glow-in-the-dark kaitou kid caricature being the luminol on the floor, and the little pops of red looks like blood that's been mixed in. i lucked out in that the other side of the endpaper was like a lavender-purpley color, i like to think of it as a little wink wink nudge to the color of the actual Lady Red.

the chapter pages got a few reworkings, but i'm happy with the illustrations i ended up doing for each of them. the chapter titles are one of my favorite things about the fic, each one has so much meaning packed into it and flows so beautifully, and i wanted to put as much care into making them pop as possible.

the cover was a linocut carving i designed and carved, which i then printed onto the bookcloth, and ironed on htv on top.

i also threw in a couple of my drawings of my favorite scenes.

this is getting way too long, so i'll end it here. i'll have a separate post detailing the process every step of the way, if anyone wants to take a closer look. this fic is kind of directly responsible for getting me into fanbinding, so it's safe to say it altered the course of my life. i now spend way too much time (and money) looking at book stuff.

kittebasu, if, somehow, you see this and would like an author copy, i would be honored to make one and ship it to you; i would be overjoyed to gift you with any art i have the ability to make, because the fics you wrote have irreversibly altered my brain chemistry, and being able to give back in any capacity would be a dream. (thank you.)

a few postscripts:

i am not selling any copies of this fic. partially because i believe in the gift economy of fandom as well as firmly keeping fanbinding a hobby that will stay unmonetized, but also because it took me months (years, if we are counting when i first finished the typeset) to finish this and i do not have the strength.

however, if you are also a fan of this fic and would like a copy, i honestly, fervently, encourage you to give fanbinding a try! renegade publishing and its discord server are an absolutely wonderful and free resource. i knew nothing about bookbinding and had zero materials when i first started, but i've learned so much thanks to the lovely people there. if you're still apprehensive about getting started, i'd be willing to share my typeset of this fic as well as answer any questions about the making of this book if you DM me.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

I was re reading your pool fic bc it’s one of my favourite and I wanted to ask ab how Vil would go over giving you a make over when he finds out you’re a girl or how Vil, Rook and Epel would be involved?

Would Epel finally be happy to not be the only one being tortured by Vil with his 20084 step skin care routine?

Would Vil take you shopping and go full MUA?

Would Rook stalk you so Vil can find our about your current beauty regimen?

Also I love your writing so much

Aforementioned Makeover | Yandere Pomefiore

The thing about the pool party is that everyone knew you were a girl 

You had told them straight up

But they either written it off or the time you casually mentioned it or it just wasn’t a priority

Rook most definitely already knew 

More than willing to share one of his extensive photo albums on you when Vil finally decides you are indeed in need  of a makeover

Whether it’s through Rook or forcefully making Epel ask or just interrogating you himself

He’ll go full steam ahead once he has an idea on your situation

But it gets tricky when he realizes Rook’s has a loooonggg list of things he notices and actively updates about your health and routine

It kind of makes him jealous

So he steps up his game a little and demands your presence in Pomefiore immediately

He might wait for exam season where everyone’s on edge 

And far too anxious to debate whatever craziness he’s imposing on the Ramshackle Prefect

“This is just for the time being, no need to lose your head. Focus on your exams and I’ll focus on you. Got that?”

He’s reworking your entire life routine to fit around and with him in the center

Because Rook get’s to openly patrol and monitor you he’s not upset

He also expected it’d turn out this way but that’s a discussion for another time+

Epel though is at first willing to excuse himself

Leaving you to the proverbial wolves until he realizes what this means

“After the fitting, we’ll polish their elegance training, and then after that we’ll have to do a hearty meal otherwise they’d whine all day–” “I agree!”

“But they told me that tomorrow we’d go to the racing derby together…”

“Hm, well we’ll have to cancel that then. (Y/n)’s incredibly short energy and requirements for tomorrow can’t have them waking up too early to go to that. We only have time for what we’ve planned.”

“Yup sorry, monsieur crab-apple! Now please continue Roi du Poison!” 

“...”

If he doesn’t actively include himself or remind Vil of his obsession with training him

He’s going to be left out

Lose more time to get close to you

Less chances for him to win you over

Not to mention the bonding and learning he gets from just aiding his upperclassmen in their endeavors

“Now this Epel is the perfect time to ask questions. In this condition their mental state is still intact, so any questions you ask isn’t immediately going to be met with mindless and incoherent blubbering.”

“But why would I want to ask questions? What good is talking to this piece’a crap gonna do?”

“Tsk Tsk pauvre malheureux you have so much to learn! Consider this prey the beginning of a larger scheme…a member of a conspiracy against notre chéri!” 

“I see…”

Unbeknownst to him he’s prepared to use it all against them when the perfect time strikes

But it’s not wise to underestimate your teachers 

Where do you think that urge came from?

“We at Pomefiore value beauty above most, consider it a privilege we want to highlight yours.” 

“Though the urge to lock it away is palpable; for my Roi du Poison I’ll stiffle my urges just a tad longer!”

“Don’t expect to get too far from me I’m mo’ than set onya heart.”

“Epel!”

“I know I know, geez.”

[auspicioustidings]

Kinktober Day 26

This is a reworked version of the original day 26 taking into account feedback.

Moniker: Mace Risk Level: High. Mace is a permanent resident of the Kennel. Brief: Cervix-bullying, degredation Safeword: Refer to first brief. Mace may push limits now he has you to himself. Ghost will be right outside - Price

You took a deep breath outside of the door and steeled yourself. Bastard had you in a pretty little summer dress, no underwear. The fabric was exceedingly rippable and you suspected that was on purpose. Cervix-bullying didn’t sound like something that was going to be fully pleasant, but then when he had fucked you with his fist you hadn’t thought that could possibly feel good and you came anyway.

Ok, you could do this, was Mace really so fucking scary? If anything he was just annoying around the Kennel. You didn’t think you had been around one another outwith this room without bickering. You pushed the door open, letting it close behind you while you took in the room. Not that there was anything to take in, it was entirely bare, just concrete floor and walls and one very large, fully dressed man.

“Mace.”

“Sweet thing.”

After a beat you leapt into action, twisting around and grabbing the door handle to get the fuck back out. He laughed and in two large steps was on you, grabbing your arm and ripping you back from the door before throwing you to the ground. It fucking hurt and you could feel that the dress was covering sweet fuck all with how you were sprawled. Fucking asshole.

“Wanker!”

“Nah not today, don’t use my hand when there’s a perfectly good pussy” he said, crouching next to you and trailing a finger up your bare leg. “Perfectly good may be a stretch hm? Hear you’ve been getting your little cunt wrecked by whoever asks. Fucking loose slut.”

“If I’m such a loose slut then why do you want me?” you shot back, maybe a little too smug about the very clear outline of hard cock pressing against the fabric of his trousers.

“Maybe I don’t and you’re just a convenient hole” he mused, the rest of his fingers joining the first as he squeezed your upper thigh hard, clearly enjoying the spill of fat around his digits and the little pained winch you gave.

“Or maybe you do and you fought to get another day with me before my contract is up.”

You held his eyes, not willing to submit as fully to him as you did for the likes of Price. A little because you were pretty sure Mace had no interest in a sweet submissive either, he wanted some bite. It was something you had learned during your interactions with him outside of the play room. Even in his interactions with others you saw it. He would wind Soap up something awful, annoy Gaz until the usually laid back man was about ready to get into a fight. You didn’t miss that he seemed to take such a particular interest in those Ghost was close to.

But mostly it was because you weren’t an idiot. There were very few people in this place for which full submission wasn’t a very dangerous concept.

“Punched König’s lights out sweet thing, he’s nursing a fractured jaw.”

You tried not to react to that, but by the glimmer of dark delight in his eyes you had failed and given away how that made your heart race and your cunt clench. Had they really fought for today? The idea of two of the biggest monsters here violently trying to assert a claim for your time shouldn’t have been hot, and yet you were pretty sure you were leaving a wet spot on the flimsy fabric of your dress.

“Must have been a cheap shot.”

“Aww, you defending your daddy? Or were you his momma? Hard to keep track with that one.”

His big body was looming over you, getting closer as his hand squeezed once more before starting to climb up between your leg.

“You jealous?”

“No need, doubt you get this sloppy wet for him. Nah, this is all for me isn’t it?”

His hand cupped your pussy, his middle finger dipping in to test just how wet you were. Wasn’t like you could do much about how soaked your cunt was. Mace was just… fuck he was so dripping with danger and your stupid brain had been so wildly traumatised by war that it took the alarm bells and turned them into arousal. Had it always been that way, or had weeks being the play thing of soldiers created that reaction in you?

“Maybe it’s not and you’re just a convenient cock.”

He barked a laugh and then manhandled you onto your knees, shoving your face down onto the floor as he unbuckled his belt to fish out his cock with absolutely no ceremony. He only tapped his already leaking tip on your hole once in warning before he crammed himself inside you.

Both of you moaned. You forgot how fucking good he felt, how heavy his scarred cock was inside of you.

“You got a silky pussy sweet thing, doubt anyone here could afford it if it wasn’t the military paying. Fucking luxurious, bet Ghost would hate to see his princess stuffed full of my spunk. Gonna fucking ruin it.”

Jesus the floor was uncomfortable, already the scrape of concrete had torn one of the straps of your dress, your tit uncomfortably close to escaping the pathetic bodice and being shredded to pieces with no barrier between skin and ground. And yet it felt right with him to have the constant edge of potential pain, the terror of mutilation being a breath away while your cunt took a pounding that it was craving.

“Ruin my pussy? You’re barely even fucking me” you taunted between pants.

“Not your pussy I’m gonna dirty up and ruin, this cock in going straight into your fucking womb you stupid bitch. I’m going to turn you inside out” he growled.

He wrestled your hips where he wanted them, your back screaming from how it was bent. From experience you knew when he was bringing out the degradation you were about to get your guts rearranged, so you tried to brace yourself. You joined your back in screaming soon after, a strangled yelp leaving you when he thrust back in and this angle sent him so much deeper.

“You feel that slut?”

“Oh my God, holy fuck” you choked, because you did.

His tip was hitting your cervix and it felt insane, like the sharp pain and teeth grinding discomfort of smacking your funny bone off of a hard surface. You tried to drag your body forward a little, one of your nails snapping as it clawed at the floor. He wouldn’t let you budge, completely overpowering you and using your body like a fleshlight.

“She can’t hold up against me for ever sweet thing, open up. Let me the fuck in” he cooed, hammering you sensitive spongy flesh.

Logically you knew that wasn’t possible, but the threat of it was sinking into you like a guillotine sinking through the back of your neck. Could he really punch through? You’d fucking die, he’d rip your womb apart and then he’d dump his cum on the wreckage.

“N-no, Mace fuck! Ah, that hurts” you cried.

It did. You pussy tried to ignore the sharp bite of pain every time he smashed against your cervix and focus on how good the stretch was, but it was too much. The scrape of your exposed skin on the concrete floor added to the pain and it was becoming miserable despite how you tried to push through and enjoy it.

“Quit whining, this is what a hole is for” he grunted, removing a hand from your waist to wrench on of your arms in position to have your hand at your pussy before he put his hand back on your waist to keep fucking you.

You tried to play with your clit, tried to get enough pleasure for the pain to start feeling good. It wasn’t working, but none the less your pussy was clenching around him only in an attempt to get his cock out rather than suck it further in. His laughed moan told you all you needed to know about how it felt for him.

“Mace please” you begged. “It’s too much.”

As much as you knew he’d rather keep going just how you were, you were also more or less warning him that you were going to need to safeword if he didn’t change it up. You nearly sobbed with relief when he pulled out.

“Such a fucking spoiled little princess” he spat while he stood and then hoisted you up to your feet and bullied you against on of the walls, spinning you so your hands were planted and your ass was up, your throbbing hole on display for him.

You screeched when he pounded back into you, trying to wriggle to make things more comfortable and being punished for it with a brutal smack on your ass. He forced your hips back where the angle meant he was bruising your already screaming cervix.

“Not doing everything for you, get your hand on your useless cunt already.”

You didn’t think it would do much good, but this time playing with your clit did feel better. The scrape of concrete was gone now, your knees aching but not being actively split open anymore. The one hand bracing you against the wall hurt, but it was nowhere near as bad as being on the floor had been.

It was hard to focus in on the bundle of nerves giving you pleasure when his cock was busy giving you unreal pain, but you were almost deliriously determined to cum. It felt like a fight with him, like he wanted to make a point that your pleasure was secondary. God it was basically just like how you bickered, constantly trying to come out on top.

You had to be rough with yourself, your fingers furiously rubbing your rapidly swelling clit. It was like a neck and neck race you thought, you just trying to keep a minuscule lead over the pain and trying to cross the finish line before it could claim victory.

“Fuck you” you hissed at him as you fought to cum.

“You’re softening up sweet thing, I can fucking feel it.”

He sounded out of it and you mostly ignored his rambling, violently embracing the orgasm that smacked into you with brutal force. It wasn’t pleasure, not with how your pussy was trying to milk and eject his cock at the same time, but it was a viciously satisfying victory.

Or it was until you actually felt his tip push a little further than should have been possible. Blinding white pain shot through you body at only the barest hint of a stretch of your cervix. You were going to throw up. Oh God.

Terror flooded through you as he frantically tried to use his cock like a battering ram.

“Fuck fuck I’m going to fucking get inside. You’re going to open, holy fuck!”

“Red! Red!” you screamed.

There was shouting and then you were empty and crumpled on the ground shivering and crying. Fingers were between your legs and there was yelling but you were disorientated from that blast of pain and the shock of him genuinely nearly breaking you.

“I don’t think so. She looks swollen and sore, but nothing inside is torn up. The scrapes and bruising everywhere else should be ok.”

Price, that was Price’s deep rumbling voice.

“Calm the fuck down!”

“Fuck off!”

That was Ghost and Mace and you looked over to the racket, finding Ghost trying to wrestle Mace into submission to get him to calm down. You caught his eyes for a moment and saw something dark and vulnerable there.

Him and Nikto were two sides of the same coin you thought. Nikto wanted so desperately to prove a connection with visible marks on the outside, blood smeared on skin, his brand burned into flesh. For Mace he needed an invisible claim on the inside. His cum inside your womb, deeper than anyone else would ever go.

You didn’t think either of them would ever be able to leave the Kennel. But they could be tempered, they could be given enough to soothe the violent possessiveness that drove them without letting it get too far. A tattoo or a scar for Nikto maybe, a plug for Mace to keep all of his cum inside your body for as long as he needed or your open mouth willing to take his spit and cum and blood.

You broke eye contact and burrowed your face into Price’s warm chest, willing your brain to switch off and let him coddle you.

If you let your thoughts keep spinning out about how you were sure you could make them happy, you were going to wind up asking to stay.

[holy-reference-in-a-username]

if you have paid any attention to my ramblings on my process, you know that i tend to rethink my comics and toss out a lot of work if im not satisfied with how it turned out. so i thought id share some previews of comics that have gone unseen, and why they havent been posted (yet?) in order of how likely i am to finish and/or post them :)

(under cut bc long post)

Be nice to each other: Main 4. Tomtord/Polyworld, angst. 4 pages. Matt confronts Tom and Tord on how have been acting, accidentally compelling them into saying how they really feel.

Status: abandoned.

I drew this one quite a while ago and i still really like the dialogue and character interactions i wrote for it! vampire hypnosis is a super cool concept and im definitely going to use it in the future, but this ultimately didnt pan out how i wanted it to.

Why it's not posted: while the buildup and climax are really good, this would be a huge mess to clean up. this would require some serious work both between the four of them and on my part for writing and drawing all of that!! plus, it would totally change the relationship dynamic between Tom and Tord, possibly ending it altogether (and i still have so much i want to do with them!!!)

Ed and Edd: Eduardo, Edd, Eduardo's mother. No pairings, angst. 3 pages. Eduardo can't wait to introduce himself at school, but he's got competition for the name he chose.

Status: abandoned.

Trans Eduardo is such a good concept. imagine figuring out who you are only to find out someone else already is that. of course you're going to hate them.

Why it's not posted: two main reasons. one is that i couldn't figure out how to end the comic (a recurring theme lol), but another is that i'm still not super confident with writing Eduardo yet. ...or writing children. so kid Eduardo is a challenge.

Can't tell where you're looking: Tommatt, fluff. 3 pages. Tom isn't as sneaky as he thinks he is.

Status: on my list!

Tommatt fans, i have heard your pleas i have received your asks. it's on my list.

Why it's not posted: i had a great idea, drew several pages, thought about it, and decided it sucked, actually. it can be reworked, but my motivation did not get out unscathed.

Bad (?) Dream: Tomtord, uh.... yeah thats just smut huh. 2 pages. A bad dream for one and a good dream for the other.

Status: ???

I'm not saying SHIT.

Why it's not posted: originally, it was because i didn't want to post suggestive stuff on this blog. now, it's because i found better ways to cover the concepts in this comic. Y'all will simply have to wait and see ;)

Matt figures it out: Matt, Tom. could be Tommatt. hurt/comfort. a collection of random sketches. Matt figures out how to turn into a bat! It sucks!

Status: on my list!

I've been wanting to talk about this SOOOO BAD!!! because why would you transform in a second via a poof of smoke when it could be an hour-long painful disturbing process?! honestly could be described as hurt/comfort/hurt.

Why it isn't posted: well for one it barely counts as a comic, just random sketches and a general idea. to be fair thats how most of my comics start, but... you know. i havent worked on it in a while mainly because the characters need to solve some personal problems first.

Not tonight: Tordmatt. fluff/suggestive. 2 pages. Matt's got pointy ears again, and Tord knows what that means!

Status: on my list!

TORDMATT FANS I HAVE ALSO HEARD YOUR PLEAS! Also, yippee i get to infodump about my headcanons via a comic

Why it's not posted: unfinished, and i hit a bit of a road block. usually its in writing, but this time its in the art half! so i have no idea how to get around it yet!!!

Puberty sucks fr. imagine losing an eye: Tom, Tom's mother. no pairings. angst. 3 pages. When did Tom's eyes change?

Status: on my list!

You all remember the soul-crushing existential grief that started at the same time as puberty, right? No, just me? Huh.

Why it isn't posted: layout isn't quite what im looking for :/ also, a half-naked child on tumblr, even in a completely non-sexual context, is something i am slightly apprehensive about!

Something's wrong: Main 4. Polyworld, angst/suggestive. 20+ pages. Tom doesn't feel well. Edd, Matt, and Tord try to help.

Status: actively working on it

Oh, you guys remember that poll? Haha thats funny. Yeah i'm still working on this one.

Why it isn't posted: uh its not done yet. and also i am unsure of whether or not it will be allowed on tumblr. or whether or not i want people to speculate on my entire deal.

...and while i'm here:

Communication comic part 6: IN PROGRESS!! these idiots need to establish boundaries. all of them. i believe <3

Zombie Tord part 4: ON MY LIST! i want to get through the communication comic first :3

thank u for reading all my ramblings :D! i am so fucking excited to continue working on all of my dumb shit and i am so happy that ppl like said dumb shit

[avocado-writing]

Gale Anon returns to Say: Yes absolutely the Mummy fic. I''m requesting more good boy Gale if you happen to have more thoughts on it. Or maybe a dirty talk Gale? Follow your heart. Thanks again for ur time, ur writing, and ur filthy mind.

well this got a lot more kinky than I meant it to oop. Thank you to M for helping me flesh out the idea!

cw: kinda cnc?; mild bimboification; mild puppy play; consent checks; excessive use of the words “good boy”; sub!gale; dom!reader

rating: E minors dni

Poor Gale is having a hell of a time of it.

Between teaching his classes; all the admin that the college has him doing; and his wizarding duties outside of academia, he’s barely had a chance to rest. Every night he stumbles home exhausted, barely able to keep up conversation with you, let alone indulge in any more intimate activities. It makes you so sad to see. You thought that after the Absolute was dealt with he’d have more control over his life - but it seems like the exact opposite has happened.

It’s been ages since the two of you were able to indulge, since you’ve been able to lay him out on your bed and ride him into oblivion. Reduce him to a quivering mess who’s barely able to speak or think. It’s something both of you enjoy, you getting him to let go and be a good boy for you.

That’s the issue, really; he’s been using his brain too much. He needs a break. To let himself go lovely and empty-headed, sweet and pliable under you. Let you decide what he needs.

When the college breaks for its spring holiday, he comes home to you so desperate that you think he might cry. You’re sitting in your reading nook when he appears, collapses to his knees in front of you and l buries his face in your lap.

“Today,” he says, voice thick with exhaustion and emotion, “it needs to be today. Please.”

There’s only one thing he can be talking about.

Sometimes it takes a little while for him to empty his head. After all, if you’re as brilliant as Gale is, your mind is always thrumming with ideas and duties, a veritable beehive of thoughts. Usually you’re able to get him there using your myriad of tricks, but sometimes you’re worried it takes too long for him to fully enjoy the session.

So the two of you have been working on a spell.

It is, at its core, a rework to be a far less powerful scroll of Feeblemind. Designed to put its target into a sweet, thoughtless state for a handful of days, where all they can do is experience pleasure and praise. No room for thinking, just feeling. 

The two of you have been refining it for a while now, and though you’re certain it will work - and is able to be lifted with no adverse effects - you still chew your lip, nervous.

“Gale, love, are you sure? If I cast it, you know you’re probably not going to be able to tap out.”

Gale groans and nuzzles into your further, pressing his face into your leg for comfort.

“I’m aware of that, but gods I need it. I trust you entirely with it, with me. I want you to take complete control over me. I want you to take care of me until I’m too boneless to move. Please, my love. Please.”

When he asks like that, how can you say no?

That night, he sits on your bed in only his smallclothes, cock straining in excitement despite his tiredness. You give him a long, sweet kiss, before pulling away.

“Last chance, darling. Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” he affirms, and you begin to cast the spell.

As you chant, you see Gale begin to go a little vacant. His body relaxes, all the tension immediately flooding out of it, the only thing remaining rigid being his cock. Soon there is only a sweet emptiness on your lover’s face, a dopey smile, eyes soft and aroused as he looks at you.

“Gale, are you with me?” 

He turns his head to the sound of your voice, managing an ‘mmm’ of affirmation but no words along with it. You reach out to cup his face and he immediately presses into you, mouth seeking out the warmth of your palm to kiss at it. You giggle.

“Gale!” you squeal, and he gives you another sincere, saccharine smile. Interesting…

“Aren’t you a good boy?” you hum, and his lips open just enough to let out a little moan. He twitches in his underwear. Despite his current state, he still responds to your praises, and you intend to use that to your advantage. 

“You’re so lovely, Gale. My handsome wizard. You’re so clever, but I love having you like this, just a silly boy who wants to behave for me. To be good for me. Don’t you want to be good for me, Gale?”

He nods, tears of desperation forming in his eyes. He scoots forward on the bed until his length is flush with your thigh and gently starts to rock his hips up into you, so needy for any kind of stimulation like this that he’d fuck your leg. 

“Awww, you want to get off, baby?”

Another moan of confirmation. You card your fingers through his hair and his eyes roll back in pleasure. You continue to pet him through your steady stream of praise. 

“Always so good for me, my good boy. Go on, honey, fuck yourself up against me. Let me just pull these down…”

You reach to his underwear and tug at the waistband, allowing his cock to spring upwards. He mewls at the cool bedroom air on his tip, already dribbling with precome, and begins to rut against you with more enthusiasm now that he has your consent. His face is buried into your stomach as his arms wrap around you to hold you close, his hips pressing against you in an erratic pace. When he comes for the first time it’s with a relieved little whine from the back of his throat. He coats your skin with his release, shiny and pearlescent; you feel him collapse into you. 

“Good boy. Good boy, Gale.”

He hums happily. You pet him some more.

“You know what good boys also do? They don’t leave a mess. Why don’t you clean me up, sweetheart? And use your tongue, hmm? Alright?”

Gale looks up into your eyes, soft and sweet and pliable, nodding enthusiastically at your suggestion. He’d do anything to get your pretty words anyway, but like this he is even more open to your kindness. He drops to his knees and begins to lick his spend from your thigh, lips trailing upwards from your knee where it has started to drip down. It is a powerfully erotic image to see him so thoroughly at your beck and call. Your leg is left damp when he is done but he licks his lips to show you that he’s finished and ready for more instructions. 

Oh, you are going to have a wonderful few days. 

In order to keep him near you, you decide to employ the use of a leash. The collar is snug but comfortable around his neck and he’s happy to go wherever you bring him. There’s no point in him wearing any clothes as the tower is always at an ambient temperature, so he spends his days nude by your side. Whenever he’s desperate for attention he searches out your warmth and buries his face into you, and you either run your fingers through his hair if he’s looking for sweetness or use your hand on him if he’s looking for stimulation. Either way he’s left a dizzy mess afterwards who you coddle and praise. 

He’s so relaxed, and it’s an utter pleasure to see. You sit on the sofa, propped up with plush pillows, while he reclines at your feet with his cheek resting on your leg. His proximity to you is a calming presence for him, and often he turns his head to press a kiss into your skin for no reason other than he wants to.

He loves you so completely. In return, your heart is entirely his. 

Occasionally he gets very needy and presses open your thighs, hitching up your robes and nuzzling into your sex.

“Gale, are you sure?” you ask, his glassy eyes shining with surety as he nods. He fucks you with his mouth as if it’s his gods-given duty, ekeing as many orgasms out of you as you’re able to give him. When he’s done and his face is shiny with your come, you see he’s spent on the floor; it is a simple order for him to clean up leaves him moaning in arousal. 

He is thoroughly taken care of. You’re never far from him to offer comfort, constantly checking in that he’s happy. He always nods his affirmation but lets you know if there’s anything the matter; hunger or exhaustion weighing on him. 

You feed him. You don’t need to, he’s capable of doing it himself, but he gets hard as he sits in your lap and you offer him bites of sandwich from your hand, face in a permanent grin of adoration. 

The last night you expect the spell to last is when you finally ride him. The two of you have had so many orgasms over the past few days you’re surprised that there’s anything left in the tank, but you still find it in yourself to fuck him into sweet oblivion. He’s able to clutch onto your hips and moan your name, pleasure his only feeling, your love the only thing he knows.

You fall asleep entwined in an embrace, gorgeous little words dripping from your lips until you drift off. 

The next morning you wake and the bed is empty, but you can smell bacon being fried in the kitchen. You groggily drag yourself along its scent until you find Gale standing at the stovetop, in his purple dressing gown and an apron, humming happily to himself. A couple of sleepy steps forward allow you to embrace him and tuck your face between his shoulderblades.

“The plan was to bring you breakfast in bed, but you seem to have thoroughly waylaid it,” he remarks. You can hear the smile in his voice. He’s verbal again - you’re glad he seems to be back to his usual self. 

“Mmm, I just wanted to see you. How are you, love? Are you alright? I tried to check in with you as much as I could…”

He turns to face you, and you’re immediately struck with how relaxed he looks. His eyes are soft, jaw loose, none of the tension he was carrying apparent any more. 

“My heart, I’m more than alright. I’ve never been so thoroughly taken care of. I’m so glad - blessed, really - to have you to look after me. I love you.”

He kisses you, and it’s long and delicious. 

“So, successful experiment, Professor Dekarios?” you ask, a cheeky grin on your face. He groans at that title, and you feel his cock throb. 

“I think you might have drained me dry over these past days, but I’m more than willing to see if I have one more in me…” he mutters, stepping forward to trap you between his body and the table. 

“It’s for research, after all.”

taglist: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13@trappedinlimbo15@infinitely-kate@dhampling@wereallbrokenangels@tilldeathdonugget@useless-contributions@beardedladyquee

[tbgblr2]

Giving birth the au natural way

This is a reworking of a roleplay I had recently with @allkindsofpreg

Hope you enjoy reading it as much as we enjoyed working on it :)

---

Our midwife was surprisingly agreeable. Which was a shock… first time, clueless parents being left to their own devices to bring forth a baby wasn’t exactly many couples idea of a good time, but for us, we were prepared and ready. We much preferred our own company as much as anyone else’s, and let’s be honest, we find we can be ourselves more when we don’t have a room of people watching us. So we booked the retreat our midwife recommended to us. 2 houses in an area of nothingness, one for us, one for her. We paid through the nose to book them for 2 weeks but we had to be sure so we booked 1 week either side of your due date. We’d spent a week here getting set up when early morning came on your due date accompanied by some mild, but noticeable cramping. A text to the midwife, and a reply saying she was on her way - but if we didn’t need her just let her know when the baby was born and she’d come and do the medical checks.

You swallowed a big gulp of fresh woodland air as you stood on the patio area, the weather thankfully warm enough to not need to wrap up. You were barefoot and wearing a light top and shorts set that you had been sleeping in - by rights should still be sleeping in - but the cramps were getting you excited - you’d waited 9 months for this moment.

You gathered up the hem of your top to rest on top of the impressive expanse of your stomach. The muscles there tightened again and, closing your eyes, leaning against the doorframe. The gentle breeze felt cool against your flushed skin. You pressed a hand to the spot you could feel our little one kicking out against.

“I know, it’s not comfortable for you either, is it?” Another kick in response confirmed it and you smiled. “Well it won’t be long now.” Hopefully, anyway.

You wandered back in the house to scour the kitchen for some light breakfast— you were going to need the energy later. You were just about to pour a glass of orange juice when you felt my arms slide around your pregnancy-expanded waist, my body moulding around your back. You leaned back into me and rested your head against my shoulder. “You should go back to bed,” you mumbled, but I made no move to let you go. “Might be a while before we get another chance.”

“I heard you correctly earlier, and I’ll be damned if you think I’m missing any of this” I say, kissing the back of your neck and sending a shiver down your spine. I release off you and fill the coffee machine and set it to brew “though I suspect I might need this” I say with a grin.

I walk to the door you were recently outside of and look out to the sunrise just starting to poke above the horizon.

“Looks like it’s going to be a beautiful day to watch a beautiful woman do something beautiful with our baby”

The smell of freshly brewed coffee brought with it a longing. Technically it was fine for you to have a cup, but the nerves were already starting to build and the whole point of coming out here was to keep everything calm and peaceful. Besides, the baby didn’t seem to like it and nauseous was the last thing you wanted to be right now. You just decided to stick with toast and juice.

By the time you had finished preparing your food, the coffee was finished also, so you poured some into a campfire mug and joined me on the patio.

“I’m glad we’re doing this here,” you said, handing over the cup and taking in the view with me. You placed down your plate, and hands now free, you placed them at your hips and arched backward, pulling your shoulder blades together and stretching your lower back. It made your belly stick out even more and caused your shirt to ride up about halfway, getting stuck there even when you straightened back up. I couldn’t help but chuckle. “What? You find this sexy?” you asked, rocking your hips and rolling your huge tummy around in a little mock seductive dance. “Enjoy it now, before it’s gone!”

I moved around in front of you, my hands clasping around the belly, warm to the touch. I can’t help but smile. “I’ll enjoy it as much as I can… then the next… then the next one after that” I punctuated each statement with a kiss. Suddenly I feel your belly tense and you betray the moment with a slight wince “was that a contraction?” I ask.

“Mmm,” you hummed in confirmation, leaning into my touch and letting out a slow breath, your hands finding purchase on my forearms. This one held on a bit longer, sharpening at its peak, and your grip tightened considerably— your anchor as the pain washed over you. Your stance widened, your knees bend as I supported you and coached you to sway in time with your breaths. Even when it passed you kept your hold on me, looking into the distance and laughing a little breathlessly.

“I guess they started last night,” you admitted, a little sheepishly. “But it was the same as I’d been feeling for weeks now and, I don’t know, I guess I thought labor would feel… different somehow. But they’re definitely closer together now. And stronger.” The aftershocks of that last cramp still twinged and tugged. “So I guess todays the day?”

“We can only hope” I say with a smile. My phone buzzes with a text, I pick it up and read it - it’s from the midwife. She’s texting to say she just arrived and she was going to get bedded down and for us to ring her in case she’s needed - she’d keep her phone on loud so it would wake her. I casually comment that she’s made good time but not really surprising considering the time of day it is.

We hold each other close looking out over the brightening morning.

“Want to go for a walk?” I enquire, “might help get things established? I’ll be nice and even help you get your shoes and socks on!”

Considering you hadn’t been able to reach your feet for some time now, you gladly accept my offer. Grabbing some stretchy leggings and a t-shirt from the dresser, your gaze lingers on the little stack of newborn onesies folded up on top - you give your tummy a little pat—it’s hard to believe that soon there’s going to be a whole new person in the world. You admit you’re going to miss this, the feeling of having someone growing inside me, but you suspect you won’t have to miss it for long. We want a big family.

We start out along the same path we’ve been walking every morning, but only barely make it past the tree line when another contraction hits. You try to walk through it at first, but of course I notice and suggest we take a rest and remind me that this is why we’re here—it’s not a race, we’re not trying to force anything, we’re just going to listen and respond and let it happen.

After an hour, your clothes are stuck moulded to your skin, your hips are aching, and we’re still only halfway through the loop. “This is a lot harder than it was yesterday,” you say, still slightly hunched and out of breath from the latest contraction.

I stop and rub your back, the feeling eliciting a groan of appreciation from you, I then say “come on let’s do the thing”

You smile knowing what I mean. You stretch out, straightening your back as I come in behind you. Reaching around and crossing my hands under your belly I pull up relieving the pressure on your back and hips immensely. Your sigh of relief was glorious. We stood there for a good minute just rocking side to side in the strange form of embrace until you reach down and grab at my hand. The next contraction was building, and I could feel everything in your belly between my fingers. You grunt as the feeling builds, gripping my forearm more and more. The feeling doesn’t last long, 30 seconds at most, but it had only been around 10 minutes since your last one - you were keeping track. They were definitely speeding up.

As your grip lessens on my arm signalling the end of the pain I lower your belly and gradually let go, accompanied by a ‘whump’ sound expelled from you as you took back over the weight.

Still behind you I wrap my arms in the gap between your breasts and the top of your belly hugging you close.

I whisper close to your ear, something about the early morning and complete quiet not wanting me to speak too loudly as I say “sorry baby, I had to… let it go”

Of course the last words were said in a song-song tone as you groaned - nothing to do with the contractions this time. I apologise with “so I started the dad jokes a little bit early.”

You feel a little roll and then a kick up somewhere near your rib cage. “See? Even the baby is protesting,” you whine, rubbing at the tender spot. Alright, maybe you’re a little cranky at having to bear the full weight of gravity again. But it gives you an idea. “Lake?” you suggest.

It’s another two contractions before we get to the clearing, but it’s so worth it. The lake is surrounded by mountains on one side, forest on the other, and the water is crystal clear and still quite cold. I give you a skeptical look, but you’re determined. “It’s warming up now that the sun’s up,” you reason. “Or maybe we’ll just have to huddle together for warmth,” you suggest with a waggle of your eyebrows, without hesitation you pull off your shirt and kick off the shoes you would not be able to put back on by yourself. The leggings are too clingy and stuck to bother trying to take off, so they’re all you’re wearing as you begin to wade into the fresh water.

You take a step in and all the air leaves my lungs in one whoosh. It. Is. Cold. But now here you are, topless, one foot in the water, back straining, and another contraction starting with no feasible form of relief in sight. Suddenly the pressure spikes and this baby feels so heavy pressing down inside you. You let out some noise of surprise or discomfort and I'm there in an instant.

I wade into the water throwing off my top and tossing it into the rough area where your pile of clothes are, my own trousers and shoes still on and soaked through.

“Babe!” you call, though I’m already there—a question, a plea.

I grab hold of your hand as you squeeze for all you’re worth, the pain of the contraction evident. You’re clearly having a difficult time as you let out a low pitched moan as your grip tightens and tightens against my hand. Suddenly you release, gasping a breath out.

“You OK?” I enquire. You nod, not able to speak. A few seconds later you manage “that was a rough one, hope there aren’t too many like that” with a weak smile.

I return the smile to you as your hands release mine and you rub them over my body. “My big strong hero diving into the water to save his damsel in distress”

I gulp, noticing the chilled water having an obvious effect on your nipples, they had already gotten big and dark with the onset of your milk coming in, and now they poked out almost as long as a finger to the first knuckle.

You follow my eyes and see where I have spotted.

“Nipple stimulation is good to bring on contractions you know” you purr at me.

I don’t need to be told twice my hands paw at your breasts, your voice betraying a giggle as I move to the nipples, water from the lake leaving them slippery as my fingers tug and squeeze them. Your hands move from my body to both sides of your belly as you groan - at first with the pleasure of my touch then finally with the effects of another contraction starting its journey on you.

“I guess it works,” you note before the full force of the contraction takes hold, grabbing onto my shoulders and resting your forehead against mine, breathing in and out slowly along with me as the pain crests. It still hurts, but at least the water is taking off some of the pressure and you’re able to stay present through the whole thing.

When it’s over, you slide your hands down my arms and position me hands back on your breasts. “I think we’re getting the hang of this whole ‘labour’ thing,” you say with a grin as I continue my previous ministrations. You initiate a kiss and push yourself deeper into my grasp and chuckle as you’re brought up short by the belly between us.

Your hands find their way to my chest, my hips, then dip down beneath the waistband of my pants. It’s not exactly an ideal temperature for this, but you still hear my grunts of pleasure as you stroke, massage and tug.

We pause for another contraction—your grip moving a safe distance away from anything particularly sensitive—and you bury your face into the crook of my neck with a groan. The vocalizations help, a long, sustained note that rises in volume, but breaks when the contraction becomes too much and you switch to releasing short puffs of air. When you’re finally able to take a full breath again, you lift your head and look into my eyes. “Maybe we should start heading back.”

“You’re the boss, princess” I grin as I follow you out of the water, watching it drain off down your hips and ass as you get closer and closer to the edge. You give a little wiggle as you feel my hand pressed against your soaked through bottoms making contact with your ass cheek and I’m reminded of the caress you gave me in the water, my own length stiffening at the thought once again. We finally reach the waters edge and find a tree stump for you to sit on as I dry off what I can of your feet using my top before sliding your shoes back on again. I give you a hand putting your own top on as I pull on my own - now wet and sticking to my body, as I give you a hand up and we start our slow, squelching walk back to the cabin.

“Right now I want a nice warm shower” I say, you nod as another contraction picks up. You’re now at the point where you’re coping by vocalising, you stop moving as the contraction is upon you. You groan something in between your moans about the head feeling so low and how much your hips hurt that I come in behind you and squeeze my hands tight against your hips, pressing to try and help.

The force of my hands adds a nice bit of respite for your overtaxed back and pelvis, but it does little to counter the powerful pressure barrelling down in your core. You can’t speak, can’t stand up

straight, can’t focus on anything besides the air moving in and out of your lungs, and even that is a struggle.

Between the increasingly frequent contractions and your slow walk turning into an even slower waddle, the trip back from the lake takes at least twice as long as it did to get there. Our destination is in sight when another contraction hits and you grab onto my forearms—it’s a routine by this point—and bend your knees, getting into a gentle squat in front of you. Everything feels swollen and tight and impossibly full as your womb compresses. You start to wonder if your water breaking would relieve some of that painful tension.

Finally, we make it back and the shower is big enough for a party, so there’s easily enough room for both of us and the birthing ball we’d brought. I start the water, help strip you out of your wet and sticky clothes, and get you situated on the ball before getting myself ready and joining you in there. The warmth—and my hands—soothe your tight muscles as you roll your hips in gentle circles on the ball. It’s almost as if you can feel the head moving down with the force of each contraction and as a result you keep your legs splayed wide. More than once you catch my eyes lingering on your feminine curves. With more than a little assistance, you get up and have me take your seat on the ball; then you sit on my lap facing me, your belly pressing into me, your legs wrapped around mine in invitation.

The slippery ball coupled with the slippery occupants take a lot of my concentration to stay stable as you climb onto my lap, but wrapping your arms around the back of my neck helps keep us upright.

Your belly presses tight against me as you continue to writhe and wriggle as you huff and pant in my ear, your forehead pressed against mine.

I find myself getting hard at the closeness of your body and you react to the feel of the bulge pressing against the underside of your belly by rocking back and forth teasing both it and me.

My hands grip behind your back as you writhe, as I manage to get what little purchase I can on your slippery skin.

The contraction snuck up on you, your mind elsewhere as the all too familiar tightening ramped up, causing you to lean back and grip hard on my shoulders. You suddenly squeal as you feel a release. Whilst the obvious splash was lost in the water running within the shower, your waters had broken, and the sudden realisation that the baby’s head is just right on the cusp of appearing at your lips has you start shaking with anxiety, knowing you’re getting closer to having to push.

“Oh!” Even though you’ve been expecting it, waiting for it, the sudden release still takes you by surprise. Without the cushion of the amniotic sac the head descends quickly and violently, locking into your canal like a dislocated joint popping back into place. “Ohhh,” the exclamation quickly turns into a groan—the new wave of pressure that comes with this contraction is intense and your hand automatically reaches between your legs. There’s nothing there to touch yet, but you swear it feels like the baby is about to fall right out of you.

You slide off my lap and settle into a deep squat. Your breaths are coming in short, frantic gasps and the water running down your face makes it difficult to take in air, so you pitch forward onto your knees, resting your crossed forearms on my thighs and burying your head between my knees. Any other time the gesture would be most salacious, but right now all you want is to get through this contraction without drowning. I do my best to pull your hair back and shield you from the shower head, you manage to pant and curse your way through the worst of it.

You say we need to get out of here, to dry off and get to wherever we want to be for the birth, but even when it’s over you can’t bring yourself to unfurl from your current position. I presume you must be comfortable, as we stay this way for several seemingly back-to-back contractions that leave you trembling, nauseous and a little bit lightheaded. The weight in your hips seems to keep you anchored to the ground.

You recall reading about what labour would be like, how difficult and painful and relentless the transition stage usually is, but some part of you thought that preparing for it would make you more equipped to handle it. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this,” you admit, though you’re not sure I can hear your muffled voice over the water spray. Not that you have any choice.

Maybe I did hear you, or maybe I just know you well enough to sense that you need to change positions, because before you realise, the water is shut off and you’re on your feet, wrapped in an oversized towel and my embrace.

I assist you out of the shower and we plod slowly and deliberately step by step into the main living room. Your walking stance still has a widespread gait, almost like you had stepped out of a long day in the saddle, but I know it’s just subconscious with you trying to relieve the pressure on your hips.

I lead you forward to the sofa, where I guide your hands to the armrests on one side. You grab hold and drop down into a partial squat, bouncing a little on your thighs. "Let me get something down here, don’t want to make too much of a mess" I grin, though I think the expression is lost on you, entirely focusing on the weight in your pelvis.

I stroke your back and give it a rub as I step away and grab a few more towels, placing them on the seat and around in front of it. I suspect both the wooden floor, and the faux leather seats would wipe up fine, but I didn’t want to take any chances.

I hear a groan coming from you and look up to see you swaying your hips in a figure eight pattern. You look up and lock eyes with me, you give me a quick smile as if to say that you're OK, and I return the grin with "It's all going as it should baby, you're doing really well. I love you and you're doing a wonderful job."

You suddenly squat down low, using the chair arm as support, roaring as you dip down. I scramble to the side to make sure that there's nothing obvious happening spying a long trail of mucus dripping onto the floor from your crotch. I lift the back of the towel up, exposing your ass as you manage a moment of strained speech "can you see anything?"

"Sorry baby, no." I don’t mention the long trail of slime which I wipe off with the towel. There's no obvious bulging around your lips however. You give a dejected sigh. "I think you were doing really well there when you were using gravity to help, so lets get back to what we were doing in the shower, but maybe a little more upright?"

You nod, and let me take hold of you as I lead you around to the seat. I sit down on it, still noticeably dripping water from the shower from me, and you stand in front of me as I lower myself down. You then drop down into a squat between my legs, your belly hanging low almost touching the ground you squat is that deep - you use my knees and thighs as support. My hands reach over to your shoulders and squeeze as you turn your head slightly and nuzzle into my left hand. The brief moment of calm is lost when the next contraction picks up though, and you're soon roaring out loud once more.

You want to push, but know the urge is coming more from your head than your body. You catch yourself wishing for this to just be over and take a moment to refocus on the present moment. As the next contraction builds, you close your eyes and let your body do what it wants, what it needs.

Your grip on my thighs tightens, concentrating the tension there to allow the rest of your body to relax. Your hips are still restless but keeping them open feels right, so you continue to sway in your deep squat, shifting your weight as your knees swing left, and right, left, and right. You focus the sounds leaving your mouth into one long, sustained hum, the tone increasing in volume and pitch as the pressure intensifies. The pain starts deep in your core and radiates outward, wrapping around your butt, thighs and creeping up your spine and up to your shoulders.

You throw your head back suddenly, arching your back and pulling up against gravity’s strong downward force. The noises in your throat shift to a series of primal whining moans – your whole body trembles as it attempts to deal with the shocks of pain centralized in your core. Just when you think you will surely be split in two, it dulls just enough for you to find my eyes, my focus, my excitement and then you remember… yes, you’re excited too.

I stand with you in the small breaks between contractions to give your knees a break, but the breaks get smaller and smaller and soon there’s not even enough time to change positions before another one is upon you. You don’t want to be stuck in that position, so instead you follow me to a seated spot on the couch. It’s deep enough so that you can settle between my legs and rest your back up against me. I pepper kisses along the line of your shoulder and up your neck as you twist your head so I can place one on your lips. My hands are molded to your generous swell, you placing yours over the top of them, interlocking our fingers as another relentless wave begins.

You pant, moan and writhe through another two contractions before the pressure in your ass and back becomes unbearable - your tailbone feeling like it’s going to snap. You know it must be the baby’s head moving down. Time must be passing, but you don’t know how long it is before the frenzied onslaught of contractions begins to slow and you feel like you can finally take a breath again.

You stand up and sit on my knee, pivoting in the position to swing one of your legs over my thigh, turning yourself sideways so that you can look up at me.

“Hi,” you say, and giggle as I give your bum an affectionate little squeeze. “I think it’s time to decide…” you pause, suddenly filled with nervous energy. I pull you in close, rub your tummy and wait for you to continue. The next contraction confirms it—the feeling, the urge that’s been building slowly until this moment when it now seems so obvious—you try to get the words out but you’re quickly tensed and grunting, trying your best not to be completely consumed by it.

“Need to decide—“ a quick huff, “where I’m going—“ a groan, “hnngh, to start pushing!” you finally yell, slamming backward into me and panting so quickly and heavily that it looks like you’re shaking. One of my hands grabs fiercely onto yours. The other disappears between your legs.

My mind recalls the bits of training and insight given to us by the midwife after we told her we wanted to go it alone. She was supportive, but of course insisted that she was nearby in case anything went wrong. She showed us a demonstration of dilation, and let me practice on a training dummy to see what the different stages felt like, so I was prepared. She explained it was often normal to feel like you need to push too early, so you were pushing against your own muscles rather than pushing into an open hole… it wasn't recommended.

My fingers entered into you, resulting in a small gasp. I immediately noticed how wet your passage was, presumably from the waters breaking, but thankfully I had no issue with snaking my fingers deeper and deeper. What shocked me first was how close to the entrance your cervix was - we had tested early in the pregnancy to see how deep I needed to feel back there, and to be blunt, it was painful pressing in that hard.

I felt the head at that point, my finger tracing around the circle of the entrance, a definite difference in texture between your muscles and the head of the baby. My face beamed. You looked at me quizzically. I replied "I can feel the baby, its right there, you're almost ready to push."

You managed a giggle and a strained sigh as you say "I know, I told you that, don't you doubt me young man when I tell you a need to find somewhere to push."

I look apologetic, but the mirth in your eyes gives away the fact you were just teasing me.

"Lets go outside…" I suggest, pausing a second, half expecting you to say no, that you were too vulnerable like this. You didn’t say anything. I continued. "I figure we wanted the natural air, the calming environment… and I don’t want to think I blew up the air mattress for nothing."

You giggled, but were cut short by another tensing pain. As we hold each other, you groan and howl, but start to wriggle off my lap. I question what the rush is, and you manage between panting breaths "don’t… know… how… long… I can wait."

I walk you over to the door, where you grab onto a chair back from the kitchen table sat by the large window overlooking the wilderness. I first grab hold of a pair of shorts - realising that if someone should walk past, it would be easier to avoid a public indecency charge for you than it would be for me - then pull open the door and rush back in to grab the air mattress I'd blown up the first day we got here.

As I dragged it and hefted it up to get it out the door, you pleaded at me to hurry. Your face showed genuine concern.

I took the mattress down the couple of stairs to a picnic area set outside the house. There was a cleared, grassy area next to it which didn’t have any significant amount of branches or any other sharp things which may burst the mattress, dashing back up for you, I led you down the few steps until you got to the mattress, lowering you down to your hands and knees.

You wasted no time at all, pushing back on your hands and thighs, you groaned, held your breath and gave your first push.

After so many hours of passive endurance, pushing with the contraction actually feels good. It almost seems to counter the internal pressure—almost—like finally being able to sneeze after your nose tickled all day. But it’s still your first time doing it and you’re not used to trying to focus and control those innermost muscles.

You rock back and you’re sure you look ridiculous with your ass high up in the air, but you feel my hands rubbing all along your thighs, coaxing you to relax and keep your hips open wide. For the first few contractions you try holding your breath and pushing as hard as you can for as long as you can. However, all that does is make you lightheaded and tired - and frustrated - that it seems to be fruitless.

I sense your growing impatience and ask if you want me to count for you and coach your pushes. You nod, and when you tense with the next contraction, I start at ten and work my way down to

one. You’re determined to keep going, but I tell me that it’s okay to let go and take a break for a second, that the baby is making its way down and it’s okay to breathe for a moment. You release a pained moan and try to pull in enough air to make it through another push. You’re trying to follow along with my instructions, but between being unable to see my face or feel your progress, having to balance on shaky arms on a shaky mattress… well, it’s just not working like that in this moment.

Carefully, you lower myself down so that you’re lying on your side, belly and head resting on some of the nest of pillows I’d brought out with us. Your knees are bent, one leg resting on the bed and the other flared out so you’re open like a clamshell. I sit toward the base of the mattress by your bent legs, my body angled toward yours so you can see me and your free leg can rest in my lap or over my shoulder. I also have a good line of sight as to what’s happening between your legs.

This puts a bit of unwelcome pressure on your hips, but for the most part this feels better—just as it was this morning, the breeze is fresh and cool against your skin allowing you to focus on my face and what your body is telling you. When another contraction starts, you hook my arm into the crook of my knee and pull it back toward your shoulder - as best as you can around your large stomach. Instead of holding your breath you release it slowly, squeezing your core and curling forward until you run out of air, then inhale just as slowly before repeating the process until the contraction begins to wane.

You lower your leg back down around my waist, put a hand on your belly, and look up at me with a smile. “That was good,” you say, finally feeling like you’re getting into the rhythm of this stage.

I plant a kiss on the top of your knee and join with you in feeling the firm swell that holds our child. “Just let me know if I can do anything” I offer with a little laugh.

Several contractions later you request that I begin holding your leg back—the urge to bear down is becoming overwhelming and you find yourself lost in it and unable to do anything else. The pressure is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, and every push feels like something is on the verge of cracking, bursting or tearing.

You’re holding your breath again, but only for a few seconds at a time—it’s all you can manage before the instinct to recoil from the pain takes over. It’s changing now—sharpening, burning—and you let out a sharp cry, your body jerking as your knees try to snap shut against my firm grip. I hold you in place, letting you squeeze me in a death grip even as I wrangle your legs to ensure your hips stay open. I try to rub a comforting hand along your stomach, thighs, and bum. You know you must be making progress when you feel me stretching and circling your vaginal opening, trying to prepare you for what’s to come. I give a few playful flicks to your clit, as if to make you forget how bad that last round of pushing felt. It works and you grind down on my hand, pushing it deeper into your folds.

“How- how close?” you ask, still panting despite the contraction being over.

“You’re doing really well” I say enthusiastically, “Each time you push, you bulge out… a few more and I might even start to see the head peeking out.”

You seem to visibly grow bolder at the news, renewing your stamina as you pull back your leg again, once more hooking it over my shoulder. I lean in with my hands, pressing lightly against the bulge forming in your vagina, the first outward signs of the head attempting to make its way, with your help, into the world.

Each push brings with it a groan of effort, and several huffing breaths as I keep count for you, trying to keep your focus on the task at hand rather than allowing your mind to wander and lose track of the progress rather than just concentrating on the pain in each rush of effort.

You push your crotch into my hands, wiggling a little as I stretch out my thumb in response and rub it slowly in circles around your clit. Your groans intensify to shouts, making me pause my actions, but you gasp in between breaths that its helping, and I shouldn’t stop. I leaned forward as best I could with your leg still up in the air on my shoulder and kissed the bottom of the bump, all the playful and affectionate touching resulting in your smile back at me as the contraction finally finished.

Another three, maybe four pushes later, and finally, the first outward signs of the baby appear at your lips, the teardrop shape stretching out over a tiny fraction of the head.

I almost jump with enthusiasm. “I can see it’s head baby… you’re doing so well… keep that effort up.” My gleeful sounds give you another burst of stamina, as you double up your efforts for the next push, straining hard.

“Easy baby… remember, it’s a marathon, not a sprint. You can’t force it. Take it nice and slow and you’ll get there sooner than you know.” You’re left panting by the exertion of the last attempt at pushing.

Of course, as much as there was some visibility of the head, it soon slipped back in again, your lips closing up around it as the push was let off, but between us, we both knew we had passed another milestone.

Your hand snakes down between your legs and feel around, realising that you couldn’t feel the head, and a little crestfallen, you start to take your hand away.

I grab your hand before you can remove it and put it back into place, using my fingers to separate your lips. Your fingers probe in and just inside, you feel it too, the slick, slightly spongy texture of the head of our baby.

“Keep it there on the next push” I say, as you nod, and once more the need to push is upon you. Feeling your finger being moved out as the head moves out, whilst only a fraction of an inch, gives you more motivation to carry on, and you’re suddenly beaming at me with your smiling face, the awe of the moment capturing you entirely.

��I feel it. I feel it!” Your finger traces a line up and down the slit between your folds—it’s still small and tight, but even your laughter causes the head to bob in and out of sight. “Hi, baby,” you coo, then look up at me and suddenly you’re overcome with emotion. “We’re about to be- parents,” you manage, biting back a happy sob.

I smile down at you, wiping away a stray tear and cupping your cheek tenderly before moving my hand down to the crest of your stomach. Another contraction starts but you’re still processing your feelings so I give the thigh you have tucked around my shoulder a little squeeze. “Don’t cry now, love, you’d only just got your breathing under control!”

You laugh, but I’m right— your body is demanding that you push and you’ve got to actually get the baby out before we can officially celebrate. You’re reminded of just how much work there is left to do when your next few pushes do little to reveal any more of the head. With my help, your knee is pulled back almost to your shoulder opening you up wide, you have one arm wrapped around the perimeter of your belly as I keep my palm pressed against your opening. The mound presses out and

recedes in time with your efforts, refusing to retain any progress despite giving everything you have to the pushes.

“You’re doing amazing,” I assure you, and you scoff in disagreement. “You are! You’re stretching, opening up nicely for our baby.”

You might have mumbled something about our baby inheriting an unnecessarily big head from me, but the truth is the baby is just big all over—at our last appointment, they estimated 9lbs+ if you made it to your due date… which is today. You groan and make another attempt at the seemingly impossible task, it always feels like you’re making progress until you stop pushing and it all disappears back into your tight folds.

You rest your leg back down at my side and reach your arms up to me. “I need to move again,” you decide. I pull you up to a seated position and help you swing my legs over the side so you’re perched at the edge of the mattress. It’s low enough to the ground that it’s almost a squat, and I kneel down in front of your spread knees. On the next contraction you curl forward, one hand on the underside of your belly and the other squeezing my shoulder. You let out a surprised yelp as the head lurches forward quickly, but just as quickly my hand is there providing support and counterpressure, tugging gently at the edges of your taut hole. The head jerks back inside when you take a breath, but then you lean back into it, pulling one leg back while keeping the other on the ground for stability. Another quick breath and then you’re back at it, letting out a high pitched cry when you feel yourself widen another fraction of an inch as the stretch starts to burn.

“Don’t let me tear!” you beg desperately between pushes—even though you’re just starting to crown, it feels like you can’t possibly open any more, and it’s almost a relief when the head sinks back inside this time.

You don’t make much progress during the next contraction, and I can tell it’s because of your hesitant pushes— you’re afraid of the pain that’s coming. When it’s over, I coax you down into a full squat in front of me. I don’t say anything, just pepper kisses all over your face and belly as my hands escalate their ministrations between your legs that have you squirming and breathless going into the next contraction. You push again in earnest, a mix of pain and pleasure, throwing your head back in a moan that turns into a shout and something in you gives way—the head making its way past my tailbone. This time when you stop pushing, the head stays right where it is, bowing out the skin of my vagina into a wide dome, a small round cap of hair at its peak.

“That’s it, we’re seeing real progress now baby, you’re doing so well.” My voice has a more muted tone than my yelling, enthusiastic outbursts from earlier, more intended to keep you calm and concentrating on the task at hand.

My fingers trace around the bulge between your legs now, feather light you squirm under my caress.

“That… that’s not fair” you manage to gasp, concentrating on the touch and not the cramping pains that have been your ever present companion for what seemed like hours now.

“You deserve a reward for all the hard work you have done, for all three of us” I say to you, my grin can only be described as devilish. My lips meet yours and we kiss in a passionate embrace - my hand curling around your shoulder in support as you brace yourself on my knee to stop you toppling over.

As we’re kissing, you pull back and groan, yet another contraction starting once more. My free hand which was down between your legs reaches up to caress the bump, then continuing further north it meets a breast and a nipple.

The sensitive area had already been a keen play area between us over the last few weeks, your nipples getting hyper sensitive as they were getting ready to express milk for the baby. My touch caused you to shiver as you recalled a recent play session, and you arch your back involuntarily pressing your chest out to give me more access.

My fingers lightly tug and squeeze the nipple, teasing it back and forth until you expressed a few drops of colostrum.

As I did so you pushed, eyes scrunched tight, panting out loud, all of your concentration on the pleasurable touches I was giving you rather than the pain you were feeling.

The nipple stimulation had an unexpected side effect, the contraction surged unexpectedly. You almost faltered and cried out but managed to maintain your composure, growling phrases such as “come on baby, come on out, mummy and daddy want to meet you” in between panting breaths.

You scream all of a sudden “so… much… pressure!” My hand drops down to between your legs and I feel the sheer amount of the head that’s starting to poke through. Unfortunately there’s still quite a way to go until you’re crowning, but my finger slips in between your lips and the baby’s head, stretching your skin a little.

It doesn’t go unnoticed by yourself, as I press my finger in and stretch you howl out in pain.

“I’m sorry baby but I need to help you stretch. There’s a long way to go and we need to take this nice, slow and easy”

You have moisture at the corners of your eyes as you say you know, acutely aware of how much work you have done, and beginning to realise just how much you still have to do.

“I’m with you” I blurt out, trying to get you back to a good place, your forehead slumping forward and meeting mine, as you pant, the contraction finally passing, my eyes look down between your legs and see the head sitting there, testament to the work you have done so far.

Some of the tension leaves you as you feel the skin stretch further - it’s still heavy and tight, but at least it doesn’t feel on the verge of causing damage anymore—and you sink forward into my embrace. You reach your hand down to feel what I’d just felt, barely recognising your own body. Your lips are hot, puffy and flared out monstrously wide so that they press out against your thighs. Your opening is kept taut and open in a perfectly round “O” and the skin feels so tightly moulded around the baby’s head even as its exit refuses to give way. You know women do this every day… but it just doesn’t seem physically possible in this moment.

“I need to stretch.” You’re telling yourself as much as me, but I nod anyway. “I need to relax long enough to let myself stretch.” You look at me almost pleadingly, and I know what you’re asking.

There’s little danger now of losing sight of the modest crown, so I lift you out of your squat and back up onto the mattress. You’re careful to keep your legs wide, knees falling open to the side as you lay fully on your back. I join you as soon as you’re situated, fitting myself between your hips, propping myself up on one side and hovering over your torso. We share a laugh as we try to find our balance, but soon you’re wincing with the start of another contraction.

“Breathe, baby,” I say gently, my free hand moving between your legs to continue its agonizing work. “Just breathe for now. Your body will do the work for you.”

“And you,” you manage before gritting your teeth and clutching at the pillows shoved in various supportive positions around you. I somehow manage to both stretch your hole and pleasure you at the same time, my thumb and index finger seemingly at odds in their objectives. You can’t help but push a little at the tail end and the burning is more bearable this time.

Between contractions you buck up your hips so both of my hands can work toward opening you up, a mix of massaging and stretching and teasing that has you pulling me on top of you. I kiss you deeply before my mouth moves down your neck and chest, settling over one of your darkened nipples as my tongue playfully flicks and envelops the sensitive tip. You’re so caught up in the sensations that the next contraction—made so much stronger so much faster by the stimulation—takes you completely by surprise and you scream, pulling hastily back on your legs and riding your body’s instinct to push.

“Easy now,” I caution you, pushing back against the growing dome between your legs and carefully supporting the suddenly overly stretched skin. “Breathe.”

“I can’t!” you yell, throwing your head back for a quick inhale before curling forward again.

“Then pant, pant! Hoo-hoo-hoo. Like you’re blowing out a birthday candle.”

You try to emulate releasing quick puffs of air but it turns into one long groan that escalates back into a howl as the pressure of the baby’s head combines with my tugging fingers. You have to press your hands into your trembling knees just to try and keep them open. Another push and you see me looking down between your legs, seeing what seems like the whole outline of the huge head pressing out against my skin still trapped behind my relatively small hole. You collapse backward in defeat.

“It’s too big,” you whine as the contraction begins to fade. You’re sure a lot of women feel that way and it turns out fine, but damn does it feel true right now. I look a little concerned, so you pull yourself up, repositioning so that ypu’re on your knees facing me. You take one of your hands and put it back between my legs and position the other over your breast. With a deep breath in then out again, you announce “Guess we better get to work.”

“Next time you need to push, just make ‘mmm’ sounds OK?”

You look skeptical but nod anyway, and soon you start. You pitch rises, and I tell you to keep it slow and steady, focus on the breathing rather than the pushing.

You nod, as my hands do their work. My hand that’s dipped down between your legs is rubbing and softening the skin between them, pressing back against the hard bulge of the head just agonisingly close.

Your head is tucked into my shoulder, one hand steadying yourself against me, the other rubbing slow circles on your breast and nipple knowing how well that was helping before.

A full minute of that contraction passes and I feel some useful movement between your legs.

“Go and do that again” I say as another one picks up. I can see it’s taking all your concentration not to push hard, your hand that is resting on me shaking and passing the vibrations through to me.

“Think you have another one in you?” I ask as that contraction passes, your response practically begs me “Fuck… no, I need to push”

There’s nothing you can do this time as the contraction begins to build, you reach to grab the hand that was playing with your nipple earlier and press it into the mattress with the force of your push.

My hand cupped under you feels success though, your skin seems to peel apart as the head makes its way out of you, the skin rolling back over the head as more and more of it made its way out from inside of you.

“Back at it, quick!” I say as the push ends, and you do so, more of the head seeing fresh air. My hand pressed against your lips slowly moulds the skin back.

You finally relent, the contraction over with, the head now well on its way to a crown. You look into my eyes and can see I almost have tears forming. “You did it babe, you got over this. Might have a full crown in the next contraction.”

You know in your heart you felt everything but need to feel down between your legs to know it was real. You hand scrabbles down and you trace the outline of your opened lips, smiling, clearly approaching exhaustion now.

No time to rest though as another contraction builds.

Your whole hand can fit over the large dome coming out between your legs now—the skin of your vagina stretched in a vertical mountain over the straining head. It sits heavily right at your opening, a slow burn ready to flame to life at the next push. You keep your hand there as the contraction begins to build, feeling how your body squeezes and compresses even before you add any conscious force. You let out a long, slow breath, waiting until the tension grows and intensifies and you absolutely cannot refrain from bearing down with it.

You groan as you finally give into the primal urge, tilting your hips forward and back in time with your pushes, keeping hold of the delicate ring of flesh, alternating between easing it back and releasing it millimeter by millimeter, push after push until a proper crown begins to form.

My hands rub a circular route from my belly to around the curve of your ass, up your thighs, then back again. Suddenly you hold completely still and I follow suit, my hands poised in front of you for whatever you may need. “Mmm,” You moan, the hum echoing through your whole body as you lean forward with your hands pressed into my thighs as you push down, hard. It burns and you let out a strangled whine, but keep pushing. You take a breath and shuffle your knees open wider and push some more. I’m saying something sweet and encouraging, but you’re too focused to really hear it.

“Come on, baby,” you plead again, slumping forward against me as the contraction ends. “Mummy needs you to work with me here.” I tell you to take your time, that there’s no rush, but that’s easy to say when you don’t have a cantaloupe forcing itself out of your body.

“Maybe next one,” I suggest, trying to keep my spirits up.

“Next one,” you agree. It certainly needs to come soon, you’re feeling weary and exhausted with the effort.

Your knees start to hurt again so I help you unfold your legs so that we’re sitting face to face, your spread legs on the outside of mine with me situated in between. I grab a towel and twist it up into a rope, holding one end while offering you to hold the other. “Lean back,” I tell you when the next contraction starts.

“Holy fuck!” you cry, pulling against the towel as your focused on a powerful push and finally feel the head give some more. Your knees instinctually rise so they’re on either side of your belly, and I have a wonderful view of everything that’s happening. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, it’s burning, it’s- babe, fuck!” you’re muttering explicit nonsense in between howls and wails as the intense searing stretch goes beyond whatever you thought possible. Nearly letting go of the towel and the push you suddenly hear me yelling out in my own exhuberant shout.

“It’s crowning!”

Your head snaps up at me, your expression a wonderful mix of joy, wonder, pain, fatigue and probably a dozen other emotions. Your eyes are wide and your mouth lets out a sudden yell - but it doesn’t sound pained as such, more victorious.

As the head reaches its peak, all the burning, searing pain you had been feeling finally relented, your nerves in your skin stretched to their limit and no longer functioning.

Time seemed to stop for you, your brain going a million miles a minute until your focus is back on me yelling at you

“Stop pushing, you’re at your widest, pant it out, please, you didn’t want to tear!”

You follow without thinking, letting out your breath in a slow, slow exhale. It seemed to take forever in that moment of slowed time between us, but suddenly there was a sound that could only be described as a ‘thwack’ as your tightly stretched vagina lips slid back at speed over the baby’s head.

The next moment seemed to take just as long to resolve in my mind.

Firstly jets of amniotic fluid came gushing out from around the head, shooting all the way across to me and coating my chest.

My view was suddenly focused on the back of a head lodged between your legs, said head being slightly cone shaped following its tight passage.

Pools of fluid were still draining out between your legs.

Miraculously you respond first. “Check for a cord” you manage in a croaky voice.

I nod and let go of the towel which you gather up and put to the side of you.

My hands reach down to the baby’s neck and slide down to the gap between it and your lips. I feel nothing caught.

“You’re good, let’s see, I think the head needs to turn now for the shoulders”

I now have a hand under the baby’s head supporting it as I feel you bounce left and right on your ass cheeks as if you’re shifting your weight to either side, the head rotates sideways and I finally get a good glance of the baby’s face.

I look up and once got tears in my eyes as I say to you “baby looks beautiful love.”

You wish you could see it for yourself too, but seeing the love shine through my eyes at our baby’s face is enough for now. You reach down and it’s still surprising that the whole head is outside of your body, that you can trace the outlines of it’s ears, nose, lips and chubby little cheeks. Your eyes well up to match me and I give your belly one last peck before it’s empty again. There’s nothing quite like this feeling, the power and strength of accomplishing such a feat at direct odds with the

softness and vulnerability that comes with being able to really see and touch your child for the first time.

The relief from delivering the head is short-lived as another contraction reminds me that your work is not yet done. The pressure in your stomach is slightly lessened with the release of so much amniotic fluid, but somehow seems to increase in your hips— seems this baby’s got broad shoulders too. You start panting and grip tightly to my forearm, not quite ready to give everything you have into another push just yet. You ride it out, giving low groans through the contraction until the insistent pressure returns and you feel the shoulders nudging at your opening.

“Are you ready?” I ask, alerted to the change in situation by your grip tightening on my arms.

The answer is an easy, “Yes.”

You move your hands to my shoulders to steady yourself and lean into the push. It’s harder than you thought it’d be for your already stretched skin to give way and as a result you let out a determined growl, then release your breath and dive back into another push. I assist with a little tug and that’s all it takes for the shoulders to pop over your tailbone and fill my opening all at once. You scream at the sudden burning stretch, but it only lasts a moment before the rest of the baby slides out quickly and easily on a river of amniotic fluid.

Your senses and emotions are immediately overwhelmed as this little red squalling beautiful thing is placed on your chest. You’re crying and shaking as you cradle it gingerly—it seems so small and vulnerable, and yet those little fists and feet are kicking out angrily at the uncomfortable eviction into this cold, loud, bright world.

“Hi, baby,” you coo wetly, gently patting its back and reaching for me to join us in the moment. I wrap us up in sun-warmed towels and kneel at your side, laughing through tears and peppering kisses all over your face and our baby’s head. You’re so caught up in the moment—the relief and awe and exhaustion and elation—that there’s one thing you missed. You shift the baby’s body a bit and peek under the towel, and the tears renew afresh. “A little boy!” You look back up at me in surprised joy, but I just chuckle—of course I’d already realised that as I lifted the baby up to your chest. “We have a son.” The realization settles over you as comfortably as me arms around your waist, and you have a feeling we’re both thinking the same thing.

We can’t wait to do this again.

After the brief moment of relief and satisfaction washed over us, I realised we had better call the midwife to make sure everything checked out right with the baby. I pulled out her phone and dialled her number to hear it go off just behind us in the house.

She walked out from the cabin we had rented with a broad smile on her face. I suddenly realised I’d handed her a spare key in case she needed to get in quickly and I couldn’t get away from you.

“You guys did really well. I figured things were hotting up when I heard the screams and moans from outside of my place… had to intervene with some hikers who were heading your way wondering what the commotion was all about. Here…”

She handed us both drinks, as I suddenly realised exactly how late it was. I mentally counted up - I’d been awake 6 hours with you, and no idea about how long you had been up during the night.

You handed off the baby to the midwife who clamped and cut the cord, and handed over the cup as you drank thirstily - all that heavy breathing and yelling had left you parched.

“So… I went to double check because I certainly wasn’t expecting you to be doing this out in the open where any old Tom, Dick or Harry could walk past…”

You grinned, feeling your strength return as you drank the liquid.

“It felt natural to do it in nature” you just said.

“Well… baby gets a good clean bill of health, and I dare say mum has come out all but unscathed too. Well done to both of you”

Another hour or so of paperwork, plenty more postnatal checks, and a complete placenta delivery later, we were laid in bed in the cabin, our small family of three, contemplating what we were going to do for the next week in our cabin.

[the-way-astray]

The Keefe Sencen Infantilization Argument (because I've seen people say that saying he infantilizes Sophie is a bad-faith argument):

(Note: This post is a repost. I had my thoughts scattered out over a few posts, so I wanted to put them all together in one cohesive post. If you've already seen all the original posts, then aside from like two sentences being reworked and the format being better now, there's like nothing new here for you. Sorry.)

Examples of Keefe infantilizing Sophie and my explanations as to why this is infantilization and not okay:

Lodestar, chapter 4. What I originally said: “There you go, rocking the whole adorable-when-you’re-angry thing. I think that’s what I’ve missed about you the most.” Keefe infantilizes Sophie by saying she’s cute when she’s angry. She is trying to express her feelings, and all Keefe can do is be all Awwwwww. Isn’t that so cute? She’s angry! How adorable. It’s a form of invalidating someone’s feelings, by treating them like they’re just entertainment or by brushing them off like that. It’s some of the most manipulative behavior out there. It also saves Keefe from having to actually take Sophie’s feelings into account. His infantilization of her also shows up in his incessant need to protect her. It’s icky and gross, and authors should stop encouraging this behavior.

Sophie and Keefe are having a mental conversation and Keefe starts talking about Sophie's love triangle/square situation and Sophie doesn't want to talk about it. Not a fan of this, because Keefe butts into Sophie's personal business, then when she gets worked up, he heavily implies that he thinks it's cute. But this one isn't particularly bad compared to the others. Don't get me wrong, I still think this is infantilization, but the best I can say about it is it's not the worst example.

Lodestar, chapter 46. What I originally said: “You’re so cute when you worry, he told her.” More classic Keefe infantilization. He once again invalidates Sophie’s feelings by dumbing them down and acting like they’re this cute, quirky, inconsequential thing.

Sophie is obviously incredibly worried. Keefe clearly knows this. And his comment is to be like Yeah, but don't you know that makes you sooooo cute??? Like, sir.

Lodestar, chapter 65. What I originally said: “Is this going to be another one of those nights where you spend the whole time yelling at me to come home? Keefe asked, making her sit up straighter as his thoughts filled her head. Because as much as I love it when you get all feisty on me, now’s really not a good time.” God, Keefe is so subtly invalidating. He treats Sophie like she’s just his personal worry machine, not a person with valid concerns and ideas. The flippant way he talks about her worry for him makes me so mad. He takes her worry for granted and throws it back in her face, without a care for how it would affect her mental health. He brushes her off and invalidates her because he thinks he’s so much smarter than everyone else. Not to mention he calls her worry “feisty” and further infantilizes her feelings and ideas.

This one honestly stands alone. Context doesn't really do anything to it. The infantilization for all these quotes is in the quote itself, because it is invalidating to treat someone's outburst of negative emotions as entertainment. Keefe basically just says that he finds it cute when she insists he comes home because she's worried about him??? He's like, yeah, Sophie's worried about me, tearing up her mental health over me, but like. She gets feisty when that all becomes externalized and she begs me to come home! Again, it's just a way he's able to brush Sophie's feelings off and disregard her opinion entirely.

When I say Keefe acts like Sophie is his personal worry machine, I'm saying he acts like her worry only exists for his amusement. He doesn't see the deeper feelings behind that worry (or if he does, he certainly doesn't respect them), and only see it for what he sees it as: something cute and adorable.

Nightfall, chapter 24. What I originally said: “‘I know! Our little girl is growing up and getting so snarky!’ Keefe pretended to wipe his teary eyes. ‘I’ve never been so proud.’” “Our little girl” . . . that totally isn’t creepy or infantilizing at all. The way Keefe talks about Sophie here is genuinely so gross, even if it is a joke. 

This is a joke. 100%. But it's a joke that sat very poorly with me because of the way Keefe verbalizes this. The problem for me is in the quote itself, again, because I feel like saying these sorts of things constantly is just so weird.

Nightfall, chapter 32. Wouldn't say what I originally said adds anything new, so I'm just gonna move past that. The larger problem here is 100% the fact that Keefe is clearly trying to joke to deflect Sophie's anger away. My argument isn't about that. My argument is that saying that someone's anger is adorable is textbook infantilization. In context, Keefe uses it as a way to deflect or joke. But the simple act of saying that is a form of invalidation where Sophie's emotions are made out to be some silly, inconsequential thing.

Anyway, about this quote in particular. Sophie is obviously freaking out, and she is clearly and seriously trying to tell him that his joking behavior is unacceptable. Keefe responds, not by listening at all to what Sophie said or what she's feeling, but by instead saying this. This invalidates Sophie's very real feelings as well as saves Keefe from having to confront what Sophie's telling him. And yes, this is a product of his deflection, but my point here is that saying someone's anger or worry is adorable or cute when they are trying to be serious is textbook infantilization, because it treats that opinion they have as a silly, child-like tantrum. "Awwww, isn't that anger adorable???" is what you say about a tantrum-throwing toddler who just got their favorite toy taken away, not someone your age presenting a valid, serious opinion. My issue is with the statement "Your anger/worry is adorable/cute" itself, not how Keefe uses it to deflect. It also presents Keefe, subtle as it may be, as the only one with valid opinions on things because Sophie's adorable little feelings get in the way of her rationality.

And before you say Sophie calls him out on this, yes, but he doesn't change. I'm not going to talk about it at length here, but Keefe apologizes to Sophie in the Nightfall scene after his bed rest more out of a desire to make up with her than a desire to change his bad habits. You can see this because he continues to do it into Unlocked.

Nightfall, chapter 34. Again, I don't think what I originally said adds anything relevant, so I'll skip that here.

The famous scene. I do admit that Sophie calls Keefe out this time. However, as I've already said, this doesn't stick, so it hardly matter. Keefe continues with this behavior through the series and into Unlocked, where he doesn't necessarily say these things out loud, but you can see he still thinks them.

Nightfall, chapter 70. What I originally said: “‘Much as I’m enjoying this sudden overflow of adorable Foster-rage—it’s not worth it.’” Ah, more of Keefe infantilizing Sophie and invalidating her feelings. If someone finds your anger or worry “adorable” and acts like it’s this cute little quirk, then that’s never a good thing. Especially if they enjoy it. Someone who cares about you should never enjoy seeing you angry or worried.

Sophie's having a serious, key word here is serious, discussion (we'll call it a discussion, even though that's not particularly correct) with Cassius, and even though her rage isn't aimed at him this time, Keefe telling Sophie her rage is adorable when she's being serious is still dumbing down her emotions to that of a toddler throwing a tantrum, not a grown-up (at least relative to Keefe) having a very valid reason to be angry. Just because he agrees with her anger, doesn't mean he can't still infantilize her.

Flashback, chapter 1, page 12. I think what I said in my original post just about sums it up: “‘You’re so adorable when you worry. I’ve told you that, right?’” (12) Yes, you have, and saying it more doesn’t make it any less icky and gross and infantilizing. It’s like he’s dumbing Sophie down to this object who only exists to entertain him with her adowabuw wittle feewings, instead of a person with very real, very complex emotions.

Keefe fans the air, so we have physical evidence he knows exactly how worried Sophie is. And his response is to be like, so cute! So adorable! Once again, this is serious, and Keefe is acting like Sophie's worry exists only to amuse or entertain him. I don't know else to communicate that that isn't a good thing. Someone being worried usually means they have something they're worrying about, worry doesn't just manifest out of thin air for entertainment's sake. Sophie also responds poorly to his writing her off, with what and the glare and all.

(Side note: When I was looking for that quote, I found a quote where Fitz says the exact same thing, I'm talking word-for-word "adorable when you worry" stuff. Like I mentioned in my disclaimers, I'm not saying he's more right for this and I'm not letting him off the hook. It's icky when Keefe does it and it's icky when Fitz does it. But I'm solely focused on Keefe, which is why I'm not bringing that up. It's also worth it to note that Fitz doesn't say this over and over again, the way Keefe does.)

Flashback, chapter 17, page 304. I think I'm just going to copy-paste exactly what I said in my original post because it's exactly what I'm trying to say: “‘Hear that, Ro?’ he interrupted. ‘She’s giving me her serious voice.’” (304) Another example of Keefe infantilizing Sophie and dumbing her feelings down for the sake of a joke. Awwww, isn’t her serious voice so cute? She only does that when she thinks she has something important to say to us grown-ups! Awwwwwww. 

Apparently, people don't get why this is a bad thing, so: acting like someone isn't being serious when you can literally feel their emotions and know they're being serious just because you don't like what they're saying is not just invalidation, but infantilization, because you are dumbing their emotions and the complexities behind them down to that of a child attempting to be serious.

I'd also argue that this shows Keefe's true colors: he only really listens to her opinions and respects them when he agrees with them. Disagreeing with someone is all fine and good, but you can still respect the other person's opinion and not dumb it down and act like it's lesser than your own. If Keefe said "Sophie, I hear you, but I think you're wrong" (in Keefe jokester language, obviously, not word-for-word what I wrote) then I wouldn't call this infantilization, I'd call it respect. My problems arise from when Keefe acts like Sophie's opinions are stupid because Sophie is the one saying them with that adorable little pouty voice.

Flashback, chapter 21, page 355. What I originally said: “It’s always fun when you get feisty.” (355) I’ve said this about a gajillion times, but Keefe’s infantilization of Sophie is so horrific, it’s like he doesn’t care about her at all. He just sees her emotions as amusement for himself.

This is a sad scene, and Keefe has every right to be emotionally . . . off in this scene. But it still doesn't change the fact that he calls Sophie's anger "feistiness" and then says it's fun when she gets angry. You could say that's not exactly what he said, but it's likely that's what he meant given the past few quotes I've shown. Keefe has demonstrated a pattern of thinking Sophie's anger is amusing or adorable or fun. Anger is a negative emotion. When Sophie feels anger she doesn't feel good. And Keefe is like, yeah, but it's cute! Do you see how that's not the greatest thing to say? It says a lot about his internalized beliefs about Sophie, and is essentially confirmed by Unlocked. And even if that didn't represent the way he saw Sophie inside, that's still a really shitty thing to say because it still carries the invalidation.

Legacy, chapter 3, page 70. What I originally said: “‘Tell me why you have that cute little crease between your eyebrows.’” (70) You already know what I’m going to say. Keefe finding Sophie’s worry cute is textbook infantilization. But also, if he finds her worry and anger so adorable, what’s he gonna do when the Neverseen are defeated and Sophie doesn’t have as many things worrying her?

So, the crease between the eyebrows is obviously because of worry. So by saying he finds it cute, Keefe indirectly says he finds Sophie's worry cute, though I'm sure I don't have to spell that out because he's already flat out admitted he finds Sophie's worry cute several times. I'm going to sound like a broken record if I repeat what I've been saying this entire post about why this is infantilization, so instead I wanna talk about that last paragraph there. Keefe literally knows how queasy Sophie's worry can make her sometimes, and he has expressed this before, as well. So he knows exactly what Sophie's going through when she worries. And still, he acts like her worry is amusing, funny, cute, or otherwise a quirky little thing. I don't understand how Keefe can be so invalidating, having had firsthand experience with Sophie's emotions.

“But I was only half listening because she gets this cute little crinkle between her eyebrows when she’s trying to be serious, and it makes me want to reach up and smooth her forehead with my fingertip—and I’m betting she’d think I was super weird if I did that, since it’s not like she’s my . . . ” (Unlocked, very first paragraph of Keefe's diary entry, 481)

Don't have an e-book of Unlocked, unfortunately (boooooooo). So the context is that Keefe is giving us (or himself???) an intro to what he's doing here, which is writing about his drawings. He explains that Sophie gave him the idea and gives a general overview of what she said to convince him. Then he says this quote.

Here's what I said, which I stand by: I hate the way Keefe talks about Sophie. She’s just this soft, kind of ditzy, child-like sort of figure in his head. He admits that he doesn’t care what she has to say, he just cares about how adorable she looks while she says it. This is a textbook sign of a toxic relationship. You should care about what your partner/crush says, because that shows that you see them as a person, not as your personal cover model. Also “trying to be serious” paints Sophie as this impudent little child who’s trying to get the attention of the older, more experienced adults and it very much implies that Sophie is not serious, but awwww, look how cute she looks trying to be serious, isn’t it adorable? Except Keefe and Sophie are the same age. So this is another case of textbook infantilization.

Personally, I think I made it fairly clear why I think this is infantilization. Keefe did not listen to the latter half of what Sophie said because he was too busy imagining how adorable she must've looked as she said it. I don't know how to make it more clear that Keefe does not respect or care about Sophie's opinions. He did what she asked, sure, but he did not actually listen to her. Again, implying Sophie was not being serious when she was is infantilization. It takes away the weight of what Sophie is saying and makes it out to be a thing of like, Oh well, Sophie told me to, so I guess I'll humor her adorable little wishes and give it a shot, but let's get back to what's more important here, which is how cute she probably looks! I don't know how else to explain that that's not an attitude you want in someone who claims to listen to you and respect you.

Addressing some other things (Keefe calling Sophie herself cute [1], Keefe's deflection [2], Keefe praising Sophie's prowess [3], Sophie not seeming bothered [4], and The Real Problem [5]):

I don't think Keefe calling Sophie herself cute or adorable by itself is infantilization. That's just a cute, fluffy teenage crush. 100% cool with that. My problem is with Keefe dumbing Sophie's negative emotions that have complexities behind them down to something cute or inconsequential by calling them adorable. There's a quote in the diary entries where Keefe describes Sophie's blush as adorable and proceeds to describe it in vivid detail. I don't like it for personal taste reasons, but I would never argue that this is infantilization. Because. It's not. There is no dumbing down of emotions here, no shrugging off experience or maturity. There's just a kid with a crush.

As for Keefe's habit of deflecting stuff through jokes, yes, it's a flaw and yes, some of the times Keefe infantilizes Sophie, he's using it as a joke to deflect. Yes, that's the larger issue. But the point still stands that the way in which he thinks of Sophie's worry and anger is infantilization.

There are moments where Keefe talks nonstop (sometimes in a very unnatural way, in my opinion) about how powerful and amazing and brilliant and talented and spectacular Sophie is and how he respects her choices and whatnot. I don't see this as particularly contradictory to his infantilization. Keefe can dumb Sophie's emotions down to cute, inconsequential little playthings while also insisting that he thinks she's amazing and powerful. I do think he does think that she's incredibly talented, but he also invalidates or disrespects her choices because he sees her emotions as adorable and unserious. Sophie is objectively powerful and talented and smart, I'm not really sure how saying those clear facts out loud changes the fact that Keefe still sees Sophie as very juvenile in his head. He can respect her prowess and capacity for talent while still disrespecting her opinions and emotions. The two can coexist. This is why I say Keefe pedestalizes and infantilizes Sophie simultaneously.

As for saying this doesn't bother Sophie (except in that one instance where she glares at him), I'd hardly say it matters. People can be the object of toxic behavior without realizing it. Sophie doesn't really seem to care past a handful of seconds when Keefe reads her emotions without her permission (on purpose, with intention), but I think most of us would agree that that doesn't make it acceptable. And Keefe's infantile views of Sophie say more about him than they do Sophie, which is the argument I'm trying to make. My point is that Keefe sees Sophie's emotions as inconsequential little things that don't need to be taken into account. This is all mapped into how he sees her internally. Again, just because Sophie doesn't seem bothered by Keefe's comments, doesn't mean they're acceptable, especially considering it gives us a view into the way he truly sees Sophie. And if Keefe thinks of Sophie is such an invalidating way, how are we supposed to believe he'll respect her when she argues with him, instead of just writing it off as "that adorable rage"?

And last but not least (as this is literally the reason people are annoyed with Keefe, regardless of what flaw you're talking about): the infantilization isn't the problem. Not really. What the problem is is that it is never called out by the narrative and when it is, it lasts two seconds, doesn't stick, and Keefe continues with it having not learned a thing. He doesn't change, and I can give you a thousand explanations for why Keefe may be so prone to infantilizing Sophie based on his childhood, trauma, and everything else, but none of that is an excuse. And I'm certainly not a fan of the way we're constantly told that Keefe respects Sophie when he's clearly so ready to undermine her emotions or dumb them down. If you're going to have him say things like this, it should be understandable that it's not a good thing.

I think it all comes down to this: Imagine you were trying to get a very serious point across to someone or otherwise feeling very emotional over something and then you look over and the other person's reaction is like, Aw, you're so cute when you're all worked up trying to be serious! Anger so adorable! Worry so cute! I love it when you get feisty! Wouldn't you feel like they don't respect what you're saying? Is that not incredibly icky and weird?

Here is the definition of infantilization. I think it's very difficult to make an argument that Keefe is not doing this to Sophie. And if you think that's bad, oh boy, is it so. Much. Worse. In the actual Unlocked novella. It's very difficult to deny that Keefe only sees Sophie as an adorable little cute thing that amuses him when you read it. But I'll get there . . .

Anyway I'm leaving it off with this because these are the vibes I get from Keefe every time he makes an infantilizing comment about Sophie (minus the yelling, Keefe doesn't really yell):

[santaricotta]

They’re having another reading session!

It’s almost been a year since my first ever post, so I figured it’d be the perfect time for a redraw! The original is… um… well… I’ve definitely improved lol

(Some updates and stuff below the cut)

I’ve been having a bit of art block when it comes to Luca stuff lately (besides the FDM comic). It’s not because of a lack of interest (this fixation has been going on for over a year now and isn’t stopping anytime soon), I just don’t have any ideas on what to draw. I have been thinking of writing, though. I have an entire doc filled with random ideas (shout out to the notes app), maybe I could flesh them out? I have one in particular I’d love to write, about Luca and Giulia’s time in Genova. It’s basically what I’d want out of a Luca series; seeing how the Underdogs spend their time apart during the school year. I might start working on that, actually! We’ll see, lol.

Festa Del Mare updates may slow down? I’ve had the whole thing written since I came up with the idea (thanks notes app), but now that it’s been a bit, I want to go back and rework the story a little. Not too much, though. I mainly just need to redraw the thumbnail sketches for the rest of the pages, which is gonna take a bit of time. Trust me, though, I do not plan on stopping this project. It’s way too much fun for me!

I also just want to thank you all so much for your support, it means the world to me! Each reblog and comment I get brings the biggest smile on my face, and can make even a horrible day turn into a good one. You guys are the best ♥︎

That’s enough rambling from me, lol. Have this extra doodle as a thanks for reading it all. Ciao! ★彡