#anticipate a recipe post

[rasberryt0rte]

Tumblr ik I'm late to posting but holy FUCK I just tried Nutella and marshmallow fluff on these pumpkin American cake things I made and I think the US is onto something my perception might be fucked up bc I had smth to drink earlier but omfg.... American high brow cuisine,,Lord strike me down for I'm going to demolish this stuff

I'll post the recipe tmrw as an apology for inktober lateness I promise the combo is Yummers

[taetr4ck]

Can i request a drabble about how skz will treat you like a princess as their s/o?

Also, can i be "💌" anon?

and all these little things —

he who loves, dances upon the tapestry of stars. 

skz!hyung line x reader, 1.1k words overall, brief mention of struggling with food (nothing descriptive) — fluff, comfort, a sprinkle of angst. maknae line here

a/n : hi of course my love !!! the moment i received this ask i never opened my laptop this fast LMFAOOOOOOOOO and yes of course, you can be 💌 anon! welcome to my blog, and i hope you enjoy this request !! ily <3 and pardon me for breaking this into two parts ,, i’ve been itching to post this 😭 my attention span is actually comparable to a goldfish 😞 but the maknae line is almost finished! just need to sprinkle some spice here and there

bang chan who acknowledges your inner child — 

A promise — a promise Chan swore to himself that he would love every inch and aspect of you, including your inner child that was once abandoned and neglected. He never failed to make you feel loved, a love one can’t find anywhere else – a love that was made for you. He’s lovely, he’s lovely. His affection makes your whole being buttery, smoothly melting in his touch. His love is different from anyone else’s – it’s as if your heart bloomed with flowers that smell like him, and the surroundings suddenly light up when he enters the room. 

He never neglected you. Not even once. His gaze is always fixated on you every time you talk – your voice is a sweet melody to him as if every word you say is coated with honey. 

Tap, tap, tap. The gentle taps of his finger on your skin when you feel like the world is deceiving you give you a sense of comfort – accompanied by an arm wrapping around your defeated, exhausted body, keeping you safe and understood. The familiar gesture and warmth seeping into your skin keep you grounded amidst your sobs, those sobs that never fail to make his heart shatter every time you surrender your tired soul to him. He whispers sweet mumbles in your ear, as if his only goal is to protect you. He is love, he is solace itself. 

He is the aurora that loves in what in you is unfinished, the aurora that embraces the little child in the shackles of your healing heart. The world may be against you, but you’ll be fine. You’ll be fine; he’s always here.

lee know who cooks a hearty meal for you — 

There was never a day when Minho didn’t cook for you. The living space is always surrounded by the aroma of his cooking – making your stomach growl with anticipation. He smiles as he hands you a bowl full of your favorite food, looking at you with stars in his eyes. The simple gesture is enough to make your heart flutter, tugging at every string. Eating the meal together that he wholeheartedly made is enough for him to die a happy man – for him, it’s more than enough. Sharing a meal together is a love language, his love language.

When he’s away, he sends you recipes for you to make on your own. It reminds you of the times he always cooked for you – your arms wrapped around his waist, leaning on the circle of his back. His warmth may be absent at the moment, but his love and familiarity still permeate through the quiet shared space. You will see him soon, just wait a little longer.

In times when eating isn’t an option, silently working at the desk in your shared bedroom, Minho is always here to remind you to eat. He knows the feeling of working on an empty stomach, and he doesn’t want you to experience the same agony. From hourly fruit snacks to full meals delivered right to your table, he never fails to make you feel as if you deserve to be cared for. You deserve to be cared for. It’s as if he’s an angel in disguise, destined only for you to pamper and nurture. In times when you can’t take care of yourself, he does it for you. He plays the role he chose, to cherish and love you as a whole.

changbin who never lets you lift a hand — 

The living embodiment of chivalry, as they always say about him. Changbin never lets you lift a hand – not even a finger. The door of his car, the door of your favorite restaurant, the bags of groceries with a cute backstory – Changbin giggles and smiles at you every time you pick something from the grocery shelf, red hearts evident in both of his eyes, showing how lovestruck he is – completely captivated by you. 

Changbin goes to the extent of even carrying your things – your pretty handbag, your school or work backpack – he doesn’t want you to strain even a fiber of your muscle. Heck, he’d even carry you if he wanted to. Whatever it is, he got you. 

He loves to serve you, and he's sworn to be devoted to you. Love always has a center, and it’s you who centers his heart and his whole being. You’re his princess, and he is the knight. The knight who’s willing to do anything, ready to carry it all – he’s willing to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders if that's what it takes to be with you. He doesn’t want anything in return; he just wants you to stay by his side and let him take care of the rest. He adores you more than you'll ever know, and he surely knows he was made for you.

hyunjin who notices every detail — 

He who notices everything — your hair, your perfume, the shade of your new lipstick – everything. Nothing can escape Hyunjin’s loving gaze, as if his eyes were made to look at you – to worship every inch of your skin, to tell you you’re beautiful, beautiful that he can ever endure. He looks at you as if you were the only thing that matters to him. You’re beautiful. He looks at you like you are more than the pain you’ve ever endured. You don’t understand why, but he never fails to make you feel things – tugging heartstrings every time he utters his worship, your skin heating to the feel of his feathery touch – his touch that feels like home, his kisses that feel like a sanctuary. 

“You’re so beautiful,” those are exactly the words he always says. Every time you wake up, gaze still unsteady; every time you two go out for a date, every time you’re stressed – hair disheveled, dark circles evident under your eyes. And even when you’re in slumber – whispering his never-ending devotion beside your sleeping figure, full of content and peace. His tone is full of sincerity, making your heart flutter with tenderness and adoration. His love makes you overwhelmed, but that’s only because his love is always honest. 

Hyunjin spent most of his life running away from love until you gave him the courage to try. It’s like you’re the rose that suddenly bloomed in a garden full of camellias. After a long time of suffering from longing and madness, love was finally bestowed upon him. The first bite of your pure and genuine love seemed to have taken him aback; each bite overwhelming to the core. Your sudden entrance into his life silenced the monsters in his mind – ceasing every inch of darkness surrounding within. He didn’t prepare, he was never prepared. You’re his light, providing love and sunshine with no end. He’s a hopeless romantic, after all. Except that it’s not hopeless anymore.

taglist: @agi-ppangx @skzstarnet / taglist form

⋆ taetr4ck, est may 2023. / requests open

[spdrvyn]

full stomachs, fuller hearts — MIGUEL O'HARA

SUMMARY: miguel has gotten used to eating dinner by himself so you decide to change his nightly routine.

THIS FIC CONTAINS: literally nothing but pure unaldulterated fluff. gender neutral terms mostly but querido is used once.

NOTES: OKAY so this was actually a request for someone but i was a dumbass and accidentally POSTED the draft when i meant to save it for later, i panicked and deleted the post so now i lost the request from my inbox forever 💔 whoever that dude was i hope you find this and i hope you enjoy

Lonely dinners were always a common occurence for Miguel.

That was just how things are. After a long and drawn out day of protecting the multiverse, protecting the city, protecting everything that he's built up and coming home to a desolate penthouse.

It was the norm for him, he had grown accustomed to it. Being isolated in general wasn't a foreign concept to him, but you brought more change to his life that he thought he would hate.

He loves you a lot. You two had been in a committed relationship for a few months now but haven't moved in yet. The every few hours during a day that you would get to visit him or perhaps he could swing by to your apartment were the only times he felt some sense of warmth in his cold, silent life.

It's not like he didn't want to ask you to move in, he does. Oh, so badly. It's just that the constant fear that he's going too fast or getting too excited over this newfound love. He doesn't want to scare you away.

There was also just a small part of him that was getting too used to being around you. It's gone to the fact that whenever he ate dinner, he'd always imagine you on the other side of that table, laughing and sharing stories about how you're day went.

When he snapped out of it, the sight of the empty chair across him brought his spirits down even more.

You were aware of this too.

Which was why you were up at the wee hours of the night, trying to watch an online video recipe for making empanadas. You knew how to cook enough meals to get by but you wanted to try something different for Miguel.

The bar was set a little bit higher this time. You've been over at Miguel's place before and he has cooked for you and every single time you've tried his dishes they were utterly delectable.

You didn't only want to make all of this food for him just because he's constantly eating alone but because he's really expanded your tastebuds ever since you two developed a much more intimate relationship. You could at least owe him one homecooked dinner.

Reminders to yourself, thank Lyla for letting you in and don't blow up Miguel's penthouse.

As you followed the tutorial step-by-step, you couldn't help but let your mind wander a little further. You wondered how Miguel was doing right now.

Yes, he's strong and agile in an almost inhuman way but at the same time you still worried for him. If only he could be here right now, you'd love to have the opportunity to cook with him.

He was grateful that you weren't in the present moment with him right now, his stomach growl in anticipation for it's next meal as he was running and swinging from rooftop to rooftop to get back to his penthouse.

There were many obstacles that he encountered on the way back. The classic old lady getting her purse snatched which gave him severe déjà vu, a bank robbery, and a cat stuck in a tree.

He grew progressively exhausted with each stop, not forgetting that he had his actual duties at the headquarters that he just left from. Sore muscles and a throbbing head, a painful combo for Miguel.

Maybe he should just skip dinner altogether and opt to immediately pass out on his bed, showering in the morning and having a very heavy breakfast. Yeah, that would work...

He glares into the window of his penthouse, not because he was hesitant to make the jump but because the lights were open. He was sure that he left all of his rooms in complete darkness before leaving.

With one final jump, his claws dig into the edge of his window as he pulls himself up. His eyes narrow, in attempts of getting a good peek of what exactly was going on.

An intruder, a home invasion, Lyla having a party without telling him were all of his possible theories.

What he didn't expect was to see you setting up his plate on his kitchen island, plates of delicious smelling food prepared as well.

There was an intrusion, that's for sure. The intrusion of blush on his cheeks, which he quickly had to shake as he took his mask off.

However, as quickly as it disappeared, it came back once he saw the look on your face the moment you noticed his presence.

Pure glee and warmth is how he'd describe it. It's also how he'd describe the embrace that you immediately pull him into, throwing the silverware that you were readying.

It's not like he hesitated to touch you either, he wrapped his arms around you. So glad that he gets to bask in your existence again, bask in you.

"What's all this, querido?"

You separate from Miguel for a brief moment before walking over to the kitchen counter, proudly showing off your creations. "Empanadas and menudo!"

It was like stars clouded Miguel's vision as it all goes through his mind. You came to his house, fixed up a whole meal for him, and for what? He doesn't remember getting you any gifts recently.

So why?

"Are you just going to stare or are you going to try one?" chuckled you, at least it got Miguel to snap out of his daze. His hands reaches out to one of the empanadas and he takes a bite.

Okay, if he was being honest, he's tasted much better before.

But you put so much thought, so much time, and so much care into making this for him. All of those qualities overshadowed the taste and dryness of it, filling his stomach with something else entirely.

This was probably one of the best empanadas he's ever tasted.

"It's really good." He says, swallowing the last of his food, "Best that one I've ever tasted, mi cielo." Then leaning in to press a small kiss to your forehead, warm hand cupping your cheek.

"You're just saying that, Miguel. I tasted them before you got here and they're really dry."

"Still the best I've ever tasted."

He continues to plant kisses on you, trailing from your forehead to the bridge of your nose to your cheek then boarding at your lips, you giggle into the kiss but before it progresses any further, he stops and pulls away.

"Do you want to move in with me?"

request rules here, masterlist here

[blues824]

I saw your sheep mc posts in the request masterlist and imagine if sheep mc couldn’t talk like in the manga but can only bleat like a regular sheep. So the brothers got them Dog Buttons that people sometimes use to get their pets to communicate with them. Imagine a scenario where mc uses one of the buttons that say a swear word to cuss out a brother🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Gender-neutral reader.

Lucifer

He had seen a video of the talking buttons on Devilgram, sent to him by Levi, and had asked if you would like them to be able to communicate properly. After you sat on the piece of paper that said ‘yes’ rather than ‘no’, he put in an order for them. A few days later, he got a notification on his DDD that they were delivered.

Upon opening the box, he saw that the buttons were brightly colored, and thus you would be able to distinguish them. Also, there were labels for the buttons as well. He sorted the buttons from normal words to curse words, and for the rest of the day it was a reliever for everyone that you were able to finally communicate in a somewhat normal medium.

However, the peace had not lasted more than a couple of hours. He was sitting in the living room when you were pressing two buttons over and over again. If you couldn’t tell already, it was ‘fuck’ and ‘you’. He looked and saw that you were cursing out Mammon, and he had to refrain himself from laughing out loud as he went to solve the issue.

Mammon

He let out a very loud laugh as he heard that Lucifer ordered the buttons for you, but you rammed into his shin with your horns and that got him to shut up. He helped set the buttons up, and labeled them for you. He pressed a few, and said ‘love you’, and you said ‘love you two (too)’. 

For the rest of the day, Mammon pretty much spent his free time sitting with you and communicating with you through the buttons. It was a lot more fun than he originally anticipated, and he could see why you were enjoying them. The Avatar of Greed was happy that you could finally ‘speak’ to him.

But, Satan came out of his bedroom in a rage and stomped on and broke the ‘outside’ button. You, being the chaotic sheep that you are, immediately started pressing buttons. You said ‘fight, bitch’, and got yourself ready to ram into the Avatar of Wrath. Mammon had to hold you back as Lucifer restrained Satan before any damage was caused.

Leviathan

He originally saw the video and sent it to Lucifer, saying that a system like that could be used for you to communicate your needs in a more efficient way. He also sent the link to order the buttons if the eldest agreed, and he was very excited to help set them up once they had arrived. You had the job of pressing each of the buttons to make sure that none of them were defective.

This was probably the longest amount of time that he had spent outside of his room, just watching you have fun pressing the buttons and asking for random things like water and snacks. He catered to your every desire because he knew that you were enjoying getting something akin to your voice back.

But, the fun was over when Mammon ran into the living room trying to escape Lucifer and accidentally broke one of the buttons. You were upset and said ‘Fuck you, Mams’. That sentence alone had the Avatar of Envy rolling on the floor in tears just laughing as you continued to press those three buttons over and over.

Satan

Each of the brothers pitched in and helped with the labeling of the buttons. Satan thought that the excited sparkle in your eyes was absolutely adorable as you started pressing the buttons. The first one you had pressed was ‘cat’, and he knelt down to the ground to say ‘love you’ as he left to go do something else.

He was sad that he couldn’t spend too much time with you and your buttons, but he had to do the grocery shopping for the HoL, as it was his turn to cook and he found a recipe that he wanted to try out. Unfortunately, he did not have all of the ingredients, and thus needed to go to the store. He did ask if you wanted anything, and you responded ‘snack’, and he made a note on the list to get your favorite snack.

When he came back home, he heard you in the kitchen saying ‘shit’ over and over again. He looked and saw that you had spilled a glass of water and you couldn’t wipe it up because your hooves did not allow you to grab anything. He laughed as he went to clean up the spill, and stated that it was no big deal.

Asmodeus

He was probably more excited than you, to be honest. He loved the videos of the dogs pressing the buttons, so he was very happy that you would be doing it to be able to communicate better. That means you could help him choose between two different clothing options, and you would be able to say ‘one’ or ‘two’.

The first buttons you had pressed were ‘Asmo, beautiful’, and the Avatar of Lust let out a squeal as he canceled all of his plans to just hang out with you for the remainder of the day. He took many videos and posted them to his Devilgram. All the comments were just things like ‘so cute!’ and ‘nice to see that Avatars are accommodating the exchange student!’.

But, the excitement was short-lived when Mammon was running from Levi and crushed one of your buttons. Asmo gasped as you immediately pressed the buttons ‘shit head’, and he had to hold in the laughs he wanted so desperately to let out. His older brother looked like a kicked puppy, but since he saw that the Avatar of Envy was also distracted by what you said, took advantage and continued to run.

Beelzebub

He set up the food-related buttons, obviously. It was funny to hear his voice come from the buttons rather than one that matched you, but at least you could communicate your needs and wants in a clearer and less tedious way. You seemed very excited about it as well, so he was just happy that you were happy.

Almost immediately, you asked for a snack, and he went to the kitchen and brought back a sweet snack and a savory snack so that you could choose what you wanted. You actually really enjoyed the buttons, and you had your very first full-blown conversation with Beel. It was a very moving moment for the big demon, as he had never been able to hear you before.

But, happy time was over when Lucifer accidentally stepped on and broke one of the buttons… ‘burger’. You pressed ‘bitch’ over and over, and you did not allow the eldest brother to get a word in. The Avatar of Gluttony set out about purchasing an extra button to replace the one that broke, but he found the situation absolutely hilarious.

Belphegor

He was honestly confused, but recorded the sleep/rest-related buttons. It was weird to hear his own voice whenever you asked if you could nap with him, but he would never refuse a request from his beloved Y/N. Honestly, he didn’t mind the buttons. He always made sure that he minded where he stepped to make sure that he didn’t break them.

There were times where he would wake up to you pressing a button, be it ‘school’ or ‘breakfast’ or something of the sort, and he low-key preferred it where you did not have any buttons and thus couldn’t wake him up. But, if there was any way he would rather wake up, this would probably be what he chose.

One time, Beel accidentally broke one of the buttons, and before he could apologize, you said ‘want, fight, piece, shit?’, and the twins got the idea. Belphie started laughing so hard, and the Avatar of Gluttony was just looking like a kicked puppy as you continued to cuss him out.

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

I Love when You Do that Hocus Pocus to Me

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!reader

Setting: Commonwealth (post series, no France)

Warnings: Suggestive themes

Summary: Daryl gets pampered. He just thought he didn’t want it. Until he did.

A/N: Thank you for the idea, dearest @lazyneonrabbitt ! I’m so happy to have written something, even if it is a tiny drabble. 🩵 (The newest photoshoot may have had a hand in this as well)

*gif is not mine

Daryl curled his lip, the soft fabric of the hotel robe feeling odd against his clean skin. He’d never understood pampering oneself in such a manner but would take any and all of your attention even if it meant letting you brush his steadily growing hair. Apparently that’s exactly what it meant that day; a shower, hair brushing, goatee trimming, the works. 

Apparently, it’s just the kinda thing that happened when he let Princess accompany you as a last minute replacement for a run when he needed to oversee a patch up of a potential wall breach. 

“Never again.” He grumbled. The robe was irritating and the silk boxers even more so, but he’d walk on a bed of hot coals for you. If this was what you wanted to do on his day off while Jude and RJ stayed at Carol’s, then he’d entertain it. 

It sucked that you were all business in the shower though. Your naked body had been pressed against him as you scrubbed his scalp and thoroughly washed him, only chuckling when he had instantly grown hard in anticipation of what he thought he was about to get. 

“Down, boy.” You had said, spinning him away from you by his shoulders in order to wash his back. 

“Tease.” He muttered. Daryl glanced up toward the stairs, hearing your muted footsteps, the padding of bare feet on what was likely cold flooring that winter afternoon. What were you doing up there? 

With a mumbled utterance of colorful words, he crossed his ankles on the coffee table and focused on the scents coming from the kitchen; the venison stew you knew he loved so much. The one recipe you had created without Carol’s assistance and subsequently his favorite meal. 

“Okay, time for lunch.” He heard you say just after the top stair creaked. 

“Y/N, why I gotta wear this—” If it were possible for his eyes to leave his skull, they would have been on the floor. Your own robe was left untied, open just enough to sway backward as you moved to reveal your nudity. Your towel dried hair had been combed, your skin shining with what was undoubtedly the lotion you had found on the same outing. He inhaled the scent of strawberries even with the distance between you. Before he could utter another word, you had disappeared into the kitchen. 

Daryl was quick to spring into action, feet on the floor with hands pressed into the cushions to push himself to his feet. The kitchen table would be as good a place as any to take advantage of what you were so openly offering. He froze when your voice rang out. 

“Don’t you move, Daryl Dixon!”

“How did—” 

“Sit.” You ordered, sauntering into the room with a bowl of stew in your hand. Reluctantly obeying, he groaned, the sway of your hips and bounce of your breasts absolutely torturing him. “I said lunchtime.” You grinned. Before he could form a coherent thought, you were straddling his thighs, cooling the soup with long exhales through perfectly puckered lips. 

“You’re tryin’ to kill me, ain’tcha?” He growled, large hands resting on your hips. “Sorry, doll, but ain’t no such thing as life insurance anymore.” You laughed, all teeth and crinkled corners of your eyes; god, you were beautiful. 

“Be quiet.” You snorted, raising the spoon toward his mouth. 

The archer balked. “The hell?” 

Clicking your tongue in admonishment, you shook your head. “It’s all about you today.” 

“Could’a fooled me.” He muttered, eyes squinting. Lil’ she-devil.

“Oh, hush, grumpy gills, and let me spoil you.” Pressing the utensil against his lips, you pouted. “Come on, baby. I went through a lot of trouble planning all this.” When he didn’t relent, you rolled your hips over his quickly hardening length. “Sooner you finish this, the sooner you get dessert.” Your mouth morphed into a sultry grin that elicited a groan from somewhere deep within his chest. “Aren’t you hungry?” 

Clearing his throat, he swallowed hard. “I could eat.”

Daryl had his fill of dessert that day—and night—and even got some apple pie too. 

[covenists]

✦ PANCAKE LOVE, C. SAINZ

who knows love can be found at the first bite of his pancake

liked by selenagomez, jennaortega and 248,502 more

yourusername pancake love ❤️

view comments...

username those pancake makes me hungry

username i need her recipe

⤷ username just search it on tiktok

⤷ username it's carlos's recipe tho...

username nutella with pancake is the best fr

username i need her cooking content more

maxverstappen1 wonder what it taste like

⤷ yourusername pancake.

carlossainz55 🥞🥞🥞😋

⤷ yourusername ❤️❤️❤️

jennaortega you didn't even spare me even for a bit

⤷ yourusername 🤷🏼‍♀️ oopsie

landonorris she just gave me the pictures and not the real thing😢👎

⤷ yourusername it's called giving information, lando.

ˑ⭒ʚ ִreal life ݁.٭

« come and get your looovee » you sang, music blaring in the background while you dance to the music in the kitchen while you were making your breakfast pancake. a really good recipe from your boyfriend.

then a sudden appearance of a lingering hand on your waist surprised you, « hmm, smells good. whatchu’ cooking? » he asked, keeping your hair to the side, and kissing your neck afterwards.

« stop, it tickles! » you said, after he kissed it. but it makes him tease you more with an attack kiss into your neck to your jaw. making you laugh even more loud.

« can't help it, you're so good to kiss. » he says, letting go the hold that he has on your waist and walking into the counter behind you.

« oh, what a charmer » you breathe, rolling your eyes playfully, flipping the pancake and continuing to hum your selected song from your playlist.

as you flipped another pancake on the pan, carlos sneakily snitched a pancake from your plate and began to eat it in the background. « mm, tastes awfully similar like mine. » he teased, eyes squinting slightly at her back while she giggle at his words.

« well, i watched your videos. and so many of your fans has tried it, so why don't i try it too. » you smiles, finally finished with the pancakes and finally stacking them in the plate and eating one of the pancakes for you to snack.

« how is it? is it better than yours? » you asked, wiggling your eyebrows at him while bumping your bicep to tease him.

« hmm, it's good. but i think i did it better though, » he smirks and snitch another pancake from the plate and run away from your anticipated chase.

you screamed a loud ‘hey!�� while you started to chase him, and finally got him while he was still eating your pancake in the room hallway. « just say mine's better, carlos. it won't hurt you. » he just smiled at your words as he took your chin and kissed your lips.

« yeah yeah, i admit. juuuust a tiny bit. » he said, while making a finger gesture of a pinch. you just laugh and continue to kiss him.

ˑ⭒ʚ ִinstagram ݁.٭

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, ellefanning, and 782,630 more

yourusername from pancake to pizza, pasta with love<3

view comments...

carlossainz55 te amo mucho, bébé❤️

comments on this post have been limited.

[disastergay]

As the impending heat death of the internet, our library of alexandria, inches ever closer, here are some resources that will teach you everything you need to know about digital archiving.

Digital preservation is the only process that can and will preserve everything you love that (currently) only exists in the digital realm. It’s not 100% guaranteed to work, but let’s be real—your own painstakingly, personally, manually cultivated digital archive is all you’ll have left of the images, blogs, recipes, videos, fics, fanzines, games, servers, forums, articles, peer-reviewed scientific studies, “illegal” musicals and even the friends you found online, when the internet is completely gone.

And yes, you can trust me on this, because I've had to help family friends create a personal digital archive of their own. She chose to pay for archiving software in the end, but that's not important.

The basics of/anticipating potential roadblocks to adequate digital preservation:

What to expect from the quality of your digital archive in the future:

Also! Fun fact: you can download the files that make up your entire tumblr blog!

Any additional resources you have or know of would be greatly appreciated, so please don't hesitate to share them.

Please spread this post so that it finds the people who need it the most right now.

[bigboysfalldeep]

who's in charge? - Body Swap

"On your knees." Dimitri grunts when he enters my apartment. Right away, I go down on my knees. A well-known position for me.

He would visit me nearly every day after work, after hitting the gym, or whenever he felt like it.

It all started when he caught me staring at his bare chest two months ago. As my neighbor for two years, I had seen him a lot. But I was able to hide my crush. Wearing shorts one day, which couldn't hide my erection, changed that, however.

Since then, he has entered my apartment whenever he wants, demanding a blow job. Oh, how much I enjoy this. But some part of me wants more. It wants to be like him or be him. I crave to be in control, to have a strong body and a deep, manly voice.

I searched the internet for any way to make it happen. And after weeks of desperation and a few posts on niche websites, I was approached by a man claiming to be a doctor. After talking for a while, he persuaded me to try out his latest recipe.

It's basically a smoothie-like drink that tastes disgusting and looks that way. But I didn't have to pay for it yet. The doctor told me there was one missing piece—the essential piece.

I need something from the person I want to become. In anticipation of me sucking his dick and swallowing his cum—he would always demand to cum into my mouth, some sort of power move—I drank it whole.

I can feel it inside my stomach as I steady myself against his big thighs. Dimitri won't let me touch him more than necessary, so when I let my hands run from his waistline down to his thighs, he angrily yanks my head back by my hair.

"You are not to touch me." He grunts angrily, and his accent comes through. As much as I love him being feisty, I am even more excited to see if this drink will help me. "Understood?" He pulls at my hair again, causing me to whimper.

"Yes sir." I growl, and for a second, he just watches me closely. "Good." He says and spits on my cheek before letting go of my hair.

My eyes land on his now-thick bulge forming inside his trousers. This always turns him on—so exciting.

"Now get to work." He presses my face against his bulge, and I feel his dick hit my face. Dimitri's cock is larger than average, just like his ego.

I can tell he went to the gym right before coming to me. His clothes are wet and stick to his skin; he reeks of sweat, alcohol, and smoke. His typical afternoon.

As he lets go of my head, he touches himself and his cock before pulling his pants down. To my surprise, he isn't even wearing underwear. His wet cock is dangling right in front of my face.

This is it. 

I open my mouth and move in slowly but steadily, but Dimitri is not as patient. 

"Come one." He grunts and forces me to take his entire length into my mouth. Instinctively, I start to move my mouth and tongue, enjoying his musky taste and smell.

"Fuck. Yeah. Thats right." Dimitri groans loudly and moves his hips rhythmically. 

I gag once in a while due to his cock demanding more and more space, and soon enough, I feel the first drops of pre-cum run down my throat.

It feels amazing, but I don't know what will happen next.

My stomach feels weird, bloated almost as I feel my whole body stiffening. I've never felt like this before. My body is so hard, all of me, and my dick is tenting against my pants.

"Fuuuck." Dimitri growls, and when I look up at him, I catch him stroking his chest, clawing at his drenched shirt. Does he feel the same?

His face twists in a mixture of pain and pleasure, and he looks at me and grunts like a wild animal.

"Dont fucking.." Dimitri moans loudly. "Dont stop." His accent is even more coming through, which turns me on even more.

I try to steady us and wrap my arms around his thighs, still sucking him off and edging him on.

"What is this?" He groans, his hands now underneath his shirt. I feel something similar. My entire chest is twisting and turning, but something keeps me from pulling away. I know I need more of him.

I never sucked so well before, as I use my tongue to encourage him to finally give me what I desire most.

Dimitri looks at me, and thrusts into my mouth, hard. That makes me gag, but he's reaching his limits.

He stops, and I can tell he's about to reach his limit. I look at his tortured face as I go in for the win. My tongue encompasses the tip of his delicious cock, and he can't take it anymore.

With a loud moan, he cums into my mouth again and again. His taste spreads across my mouth and slides down my throat.

Right away, the weird feeling wanders through my whole chest, engulfing me in a comforting warmth.

My mind is getting overwhelmed, but I keep sucking him dry. I need every single drop of him.

I feel myself growing bigger the more of his precious cream I swallow. At the same time, his thighs are seemingly shrinking. It gets easier to hold him in place.

"What is happening?" Dimitri panics; I can see it in his eyes. "Are you doing this?" He grabs me by my hair again, trying his best to pull me off of him, but it's futile.

Like a parasite, I'm attached to his cock, and I won't let go now. To my horror, I can see the effect on his body now.

His chest, his arms, his muscles—all of them are shrinking rapidly. He gets even tinier now.

I don't know why he keeps shooting load after load into my mouth, but I crave even more.

"GET OFF ME." His voice is pitched now, and to my horror, it has become my old voice. His whole appearance changes too.

The more I drink his cum, the more his body becomes mine. I can just tell that I grow bigger, much bigger. It doesn't hurt; instead, it feels like flying through empty space. I'm light as a feather now.

My eyes roll back into my skull, and for a moment, I lose consciousness.

When I wake up, I don't see a sign of Dimitri at first. But as I get up from the floor, I can feel something different. I look down at myself, and I am wearing his drenched clothes. They stick to my skin, and I run a hand across my now well-formed chest.

"Thats amazing." I say this using Dimitri's manly voice, including his Serbian accent. I pull out my phone and open the camera. 

It worked! I am Dimitri now.

I admire myself and start to explore my new body when I see him. Dimitri, or my old self, is standing in the corner of the room. He's scared; obviously, all of this must be surreal.

I approach him, and he acts like a coward. "Please. What have you done?" He says this with anger in his voice before he attacks me.

But my body is much stronger now. "I've taken what's mine." I grunt and block him easily.

Wrapping an arm around his neck, I start to choke him firmly.

"Please. Give it back." He cries breathlessly. This makes me chuckle. "Fuck you." I say and release him, pushing him to the floor.

"This is much better now." I say, and I start to explore my new body even more. 

It feels so good when my muscles get hard, just as my cock is already leaking again. Subconciously, I touch myself and stroke myself, making me moan deeply with Dimitris voice.

"Stop!" He says it weakly, but I proceed to smell the heavy scent of musk coming from my pits. "This is mine now." I grab my cock and walk toward the door. 

My old body cries out, but I don't care.

It's all I ever wanted.

[laxmiree]

[CN] MLQC Lucien’s On Fire MQ translation + video with sub EN (Part 3/3)

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

This post contains a detailed spoiler for an MQ that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~

On Fire MQ | Part 1 (1-2) | Part 2 (3-4) | Part 3 (5-6) | Moisturize ASMR

[Warning]: The content of this MQ is currently the most explicit compared to other dates and may not be suitable for individuals under the age of 17 (CN server). It is recommended that those who do not meet this age requirement refrain from proceeding beyond this point.

Part 3 & 4-> [Here]

✂———————–

[Subbed Video, TURN ON CC!]

✂———————–

—[Part 5]— Video Timestamp [31:11]

The kitchen is filled with all sorts of ingredients.

After studying a few recipes, Lucien starts by cleaning the vegetables one by one, arranging them neatly based on size and color.

I put the excess ingredients into the refrigerator and see him preparing to chop vegetables on the cutting board. His movements are meticulous yet unfamiliar.

MC: Do you want some help?

Lucien arches an eyebrow ever so slightly, then frees up one hand to pull me behind him, his voice gentle.

Lucien: Yes, then come closer and help me, okay?

I wrap my arms around Lucien from behind, adjusting his hand to control the force and posture of chopping vegetables.

MC: [smiles softly]...Are you sure about this?

Lucien: Mm, I'm not particularly skilled at this. This position makes it easy for you to correct me at any time.

I wrap my arm around him with some struggle. I can feel his heat seeping through our clothes, causing a slight warmth in my ears.

Unwittingly, I remember the first time I spent New Year's Eve with Lucien. He also once stood behind me and wrapped his arm around me under the pretext of learning to make dumplings.

MC: ...Then, I'll make an effort to not get distracted.

MC: It's better to cut in from this angle...

Two people working together noticeably accelerate the process. After the pot is ready, Lucien and I stand on either side of it, seasoning it together.

Seasonal vegetables lose their raw appearance in the sizzling hot oil, transforming into delectable dishes on the dining table.

MC: The colors are right, and the cuts are similar. At least in terms of appearance, we've perfectly replicated these dishes.

MC: I just wonder how they taste. These dishes look so good, they couldn't possibly be bad, right?

Lucien: They're definitely going to be delicious. After all, we made them together.

Lucien: However, in the coming year, I will try my best to break away from this lady’s help and lead this process independently.

MC: Hehe, it's okay if you don't break away.

MC: I'm happy to accompany you and enjoy this process together. Plus, occasionally being Professor Lucien's "guide", I couldn't ask for more.

Lucien glances at me with a smile on his face, then bends down to kiss me lightly on the eyes.

Lucien: [chuckle then KISS!!!!] Since I have your permission, I won't insist on proving myself anymore.

Lucien: In the days ahead, accompany me to tackle more complex menus.

At the dining table, Lucien picks up his chopsticks, slowly bringing each dish to his mouth. He chews carefully, seeming to savor the unique taste of each dish

Though it's just an ordinary lunch, he eats with exceptional seriousness.

Lucien: The change in cutting technique has a much greater impact on the crispness of the vegetables than I anticipated.

MC: It's subtle, isn't it? Even though the cooking method remains the same, just changing the cutting technique makes the texture much crispier!

Lucien: Hmm, it's also interesting to stew meat with fruits.

MC: Hehe, that's because fruit acids not only tenderize the muscle tissue but also blend in smoothly with the flavor.

Lucien: [chuckles] So, although all these dishes are delicious, I particularly enjoy the stew you've added your ingenuity to.

It's rare to see him provide detailed commentary on dishes beyond just "delicious", and I can't help but raise my chin in pride.

MC: I've actually made some observations before when cooking. Just a slight change in the dish can make a huge difference in taste!

MC: It's kind of like the difference between the front leg meat and the hind leg meat, very distinct!

Lucien's gaze, which was originally focused on tasting the dishes, shifts towards me. Under the lamplight, his eyes soften, as gentle as water flowing into a stream.

Lucien: This classmate's metaphors are always so imaginative.

Lucien: It seems like every inch of the world you perceive is so vibrant and intriguing—

Lucien: Just like these rich dishes, they can evoke a range of emotions and also spark inspiration.

I prop my chin up, looking at him with interest.

MC: If that's the case, then I also want to be the “fruit” in the stew, making Professor Lucien even "sweeter"~

MC: Every happy and interesting experience in my perception, I want you to experience them together with me~

Lucien's eyes soften, and he taps his knuckles gently on the table.

Lucien: [whispers] In that case, can we do something fun together right now?

My eyes light up, and I stand up, walking over to his side. I cup his face in my hands, smiling as we lock eyes.

MC: Of course, then... what do you want to do?

Before I finish speaking, Lucien's hand gently lowers my head, and he plants a light kiss on my lips.

Although it's just a gentle touch, and although the atmosphere isn't ambiguous, I feel my heart beating wildly due to the unexpected intimacy.

I look at him with a flushed face, seeing overflowing tenderness in his eyes, and a magnified reflection of myself.

Lucien: I want to thank this lady who “shares the world” with me.

Then, he leans down, slowly closing the distance between us—

Until our hearts and minds feel the same frequency, melding together into the gentle twilight.

As the last rays of twilight fall, Lucien invites me to experience the festival in this small town.

Lanterns adorned with festive decorations hang on the streetlights, and the air is filled with the scent of firecrackers.

As New Year's Eve approaches, there are already many stalls in the small night market, with couplets, paper-cut decorations, and various potted plants joyfully arranged together.

MC: These paper-cut decorations are quite ordinary, yet they're selling for two digits. They're not as pretty as the ones you've made, but I just bought something really nice!

I take out a box of pink, peach-shaped pastries and hand one to Lucien.

MC: "Longevity Peach Buns"~ Would you like to try one?

Lucien takes a bite, his brows furrowing momentarily as he examines the bun in his hand with a hint of skepticism.

Lucien: [smiles helplessly] I wouldn't recommend it.

Even Lucien, who isn't usually picky about food, expressed dissatisfaction with the bun, which piqued my interest.

I take a bite, and the dry bun with a hint of artificial flavoring fails to satisfy even basic taste expectations.

MC: Uh...!

MC: [unamused] Although it's not tasty, it does look festive... Let's just display it at home when we get back.

Lucien smiles and shakes his head, then picks up a set of spring festival couplets from a nearby stall.

Lucien: The wording on these couplets seems rather ordinary.

Lucien: I'm thinking, why don't we buy some raw materials and try writing our own couplets at home?

MC: Sounds good! Then when the God of Wealth arrives, he'll see that the couplets we've put up are heartfelt and sincere.

MC: If he's in a good mood, who knows, maybe we'll strike it rich~

From the "福" (fortune/blessings) character for the front door to the refrigerator and even the shoe cabinet, to the money tree for the entrance and the glowing little dragon...

As we chat and laugh, the bags we're carrying are already overloaded.

We load the bags into the car and return to our seats. Just as I start to fasten my seatbelt, Lucien pushes open the car door again.

Lucien: I suddenly remembered there's something else I need to buy.

MC: Then I'll go with you.

Lucien: No need, it's right nearby. I'll be back soon.

Before I could react, Lucien had already closed the car door and disappeared into the bustling crowd once again.

✂———————–

—[Part 6]— Video Timestamp [36:42]

(T/N: if you haven't watched the video, please watch it from this timestamp! The BGM choice + voice acting really help set the mood~)

MC: What did Lucien go to buy...?

Snacks, or decorations? Before my thoughts can stray any further, Lucien's figure returns to the car with bags in hand.

MC: You're back!

The car door is pulled open, and along with Lucien’s scent, the chilly wind brings in a subtle smell... of gunpowder?

Lucien: [chuckles] I bought some fireworks...

MC: Oh~

Lucien: And firecrackers.

MC: [surprised] Eh?

I widen my eyes and look into the bag. Besides a few fireworks, there are…

MC: O- one-thousand-firecrackers-rolls and firework rockets?

Seeing my reaction, Lucien satisfactorily curls up the corners of his lips.

Lucien: As an "experiencer," of course I must try some sufficiently exciting things.

The car, loaded with goods, returns to our courtyard. Lucien parks the car and, together with me, we unroll the long red firecrackers on the ground.

The long firecrackers snake around like a red dragon lying on the ground, almost covering the entire courtyard.

I hold the lighter, watching the fuse that is about to ignite the firecrackers and can’t help but feel nervous in my heart.

MC: Lucien, could you, could you wait a moment? I'm not quite mentally prepared yet!

Lucien: [chuckles] Then allow me.

Lucien seems to chuckle softly. Before I can react, he has already struck the match, and the flame dances on his fingertips.

The fuse instantly ignites, speeding forward like a shooting star. I quickly grab Lucien's hand tightly, pulling him away as we run.

The next second, the firecrackers erupt like an awakened dragon, emitting a thrilling roar.

My body instinctively tenses, and I hastily cover Lucien's ears while he does the same for mine.

(the way they instinctively protect each other instead of themselves :”…)

His broad palm reassuringly shields those startling explosions.

Despite the barrier, my hearing becomes even more acute, listening as the firecrackers "rampage" through the courtyard.

I look at Lucien, in the faint red glow, his face is coated with a shimmering warm light, and from beginning to end, his lips are always brimming with a smile.

The bright light swiftly dashes through the dark night. After the long-lasting thousand blasts fade away, the air in the courtyard seems to have turned red.

Lucien waves his hand in front of him, trying to dispel the pungent smell of firecrackers, yet the smile on his lips never falters.

Lucien: Whether it's from the sense of hearing or the sense of smell... The stimulation I'm receiving is far more excessive than I anticipated.

MC: Many things you just have to experience firsthand to truly feel them!

MC: Just like I've come to realize, besides with the beauty of fireworks, Professor Lucien and the firecrackers are also quite "compatible"!

Lucien raises an eyebrow and takes out all the remaining fireworks and firecrackers from the car.

Lucien: That sentence sounds like a stereotypical impression of "Professor Lucien".

Lucien: Fortunately, tonight happens to be a good opportunity for "out with the old, in with the new."

The night sky stretches endlessly, as dark as a piece of black velvet, while the courtyard ground is scattered with remnants of red firecrackers.

Lucien stands between the darkness of the night and the redness around him, with the match he ignites in his hand being the only source of light around.

This glimmer of light remains silent, yet always manages to ignite clusters of earth-shattering fireworks in my world.

So I walk towards him, and together we light up all these fireworks.

The light flies into the night sky, showering down gently, casting warm hues upon us.

And beside me, Lucien's smiling expression is just like the fireworks filling up the sky.

In the end, Lucien and I left a few fireworks unlit and returned to the car for warmth.

The distant sound of firecrackers can be faintly heard, with occasional fireworks lighting up the night sky, illuminating the scene inside the car.

We sit side by side in the back seat, enjoying a moment of tranquility after the playful revelry.

Bright light filters through the car window, casting ambiguous light and shadows on Lucien's face. I trace his profile, and my heart is filled with joy.

MC: Looking back, we've had a lot of fun in just a few days.

MC: Going to the home exhibition together, selecting ingredients and cooking together, wandering through the festival night market, and even setting off fireworks and firecrackers...

MC: I wonder how Professor Lucien feels about this "town trip"?

Lucien meets my expectant gaze, but instead of immediately responding, he ponders for a moment.

Lucien: I've thought of many different answers, many different adjectives.

Lucien: Happiness, warmth, contentment... Each word seems to encapsulate my feelings, yet they all appear a little shallow.

I listen earnestly, reaching out my hand to intertwine with his palm.

Lucien: Whether it's in the warm room, cooking together under the bright lights, or lighting firecrackers together and making "noise".

Lucien: At the moment of accomplishing these things, I have a vague feeling.

Lucien: These seem to be things I've never consciously longed for but deeply desire to do.

Lucien: And year after year, in the New Year, you've helped me realize these, even wishes that I myself didn't fully grasp.

Lucien pauses unusually as if carefully considering his words. After a while, he simply casts his gaze toward me.

Lucien: So if there's anything missing, it's that I want my little lady to feel my happiness.

MC: I've already felt it...

But Lucien gently shakes his head.

Lucien: I want to paint it more vividly for you. Not through carefully crafted rhetoric, perhaps not even by speaking.

(T/N: insert the solemn, melancholic, yet hopeful 5th anniv special theatre BGM 😭 if you've read this far and haven't watched the video, I’d actually beg you to watch 🥺 The timestamp is: [42:09] )

Lucien gently takes my hand and places it over his heart.

In an instant, the world quieted down.

With the familiar heartbeat in my palm, it feels as if the overflowing sense of happiness is also held within my grasp.

"Thump, thump," resounding as if echoing through the entire universe. And it speaks—

Lucien is very happy, very content with life.

And so am I.

At this moment, I seem to also taste the shallowness of "words", for no matter how many words are spoken, they can't fully express the deep love beating in my heart.

So I recklessly approached him, wanting to convey my most profound feelings to him.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, my fingertips threading through his soft hair, as I lean in closer, Lucien gently but firmly pulls me into his embrace.

The smell of gunpowder fills my nostrils, seemingly carrying the heat capable of igniting flames with it.

The lips merely brush against each other, then clinging lovingly and inseparably, unwilling to part ever again.

Our tongues entwine as if thirsting, drawing out every bit of sweetness, until our breaths become so chaotic that they can't be distinguished from each other.

Can a deep kiss express this love? Can a long embrace reveal the yearning in the depths of our hearts?

While thinking about all this in a daze, Lucien's whisper comes to my ear.

Lucien: [whispers breathlessly] Is this kiss enough to explain it all?

MC: Not enough...

I instinctively spoke out, not knowing whether I was answering him or telling myself.

Upon hearing this, with one arm still around me, Lucien unbuttons his shirt with his other hand, revealing his well-defined physique.

Lucien: [chuckles and whispers] Then tonight, I will lay bare all of myself to you, okay?

His eyes still carry a faint smile, but they are moist as if they've captured light, burning and deeply sincere.

I nod and kiss the corner of his eye, taking in all of him.

His warm lips carry a slightly wet sensation as they wander over my body, igniting my skin like clusters of flame.

The intimate and meticulous licking makes me feel like I'm about to melt, my body instinctively tensing up, sliding towards the only fulcrum.

Lucien: [noises of him eating… something, and sighs in satisfaction] ….

The fingers holding my calves suddenly tighten, pulling them wider apart. I sit back heavily and then whimper out in pain.

MC: [blushing] Lucien….

My voice comes out sweetly and aggrievedly, elongating the end of his name with a deliberate undertone. It sounds like pleading for mercy yet also carries a tacit demand.

The sound of muffled laughter reaches my ears, Lucien flips over to be on top of me and presses me down, kissing me on the lips.

Between the disorganized breaths, he murmurs something on the tip of his tongue.

Lucien: [whispers] Sorry, does it hurt a bit?

I nod, but in contrast to my answer, I thrust my hips upward, wanting to fit even closer to him. In the process, I almost hit my head on the car door, but Lucien protected me.

The decorations on my clothes roughly brush against Lucien's exposed skin as he moves, causing him to tremble lightly.

Lucien: [chuckles] These little decorations are a bit in the way.

Those words are much colder than his kisses, and I can't help but watch my heart beat faster as he gently picks at them and lets the decorations fall.

It's just that there seem to be more and more things that get in the way between us… the top, the belt, and the skirt, they all seem a bit unnecessary.

The car's air conditioning blows dry, warm air, dispersing the remaining traces of coldness on our skin.

The moist sensation behind my ears makes me feel like I'm lying on a stream, his voice, hoarse and low, reveals a fervent longing.

Lucien: [hoarsely] Now, can you understand this feeling clearly?

My heart beats fiercely, and within my hazy consciousness, I seem to hear the emotions hidden behind Lucien's questions.

Instinctively, I tighten my arms around his neck and wrap my legs behind his waist. My hand gently caresses him.

MC: I think... I still need more time to understand.

MC: This is what you want too, isn't it?

Lucien’s laughter-tinged voice drifts into my ears.

Lucien:  [whispers followed by more wet kiss noises] The night is still very long.

The ambiguous warmth inside the car envelops us like the steam of a hot spring, carrying us into the clouds.

It seems there are small trinkets on the dashboard that can't withstand the shaking, but we are too preoccupied to notice.

Unintentionally, someone presses the car window button, and the distant sound of fireworks leaps into our ears.

Tiny snowflakes land on my outstretched arms, only to be melted into droplets by the heat.

"Splat," "splat."

This night, when the old days and the new years merge, we seem to need a little more warmth.

--———FIN————–

✂———————

[Bonus: some h-word translation notes before afterword because I don't want to ruin the beautiful smut with my dumb commentary]

Lucien: [whispers] Sorry, does it hurt a bit? I nod, but in contrast to my answer, I thrust my hips upward, wanting to fit even closer to him. In the process, I almost hit my head on the car door, but Lucien protected me.

(T/N: this sentence implies that the pain is not from her sitting back but… him fitting inside *cough*)

The car's air conditioning blows dry, warm air, dispersing the remaining traces of coldness on our skin.

(T/N: this description implies that they are both already completely undressed at that point. To counteract the chill from being unclothed, the warm air conditioner is turned on :>)

✂———————

[Afterword, rambles and highlight(s)]

⎯ Just like how sunlight helps plants to grow, love nurtures Lucien's growth over the years.

Even after 6 years, Love and Producer still have such a talented writing team that never FAILS at making us feel h-word and cry at almost the same time ༼;´༎ຶ ۝ ༎ຶ༽༼;´༎ຶ ۝ ༎ຶ༽༼;´༎ຶ ۝ ༎ຶ༽. This date is not angsty in the traditional sense, in fact, the date in general is so sweet and full of daily life. But the end really punches you just right in the feelings ESPECIALLY with the 5th anniversary special theatre BGM.

Honestly, it’s hard to explain why this date is so good and makes many CN stans cry by the end of the date. It’s… something that you can experience only if you know him for so, so long. It's something that can only be felt by witnessing his growth from the moment you first 'met' him until now. The feelings of observing someone you've ‘nurtured’ with love and care for years finally blossoming into the most colorful and unique 'fireworks' you've ever witnessed… they’re really hard to describe.

But anyway, before this essay turns into an analysis of "The Little Prince" and Lucien, let’s talk about the date, shall we? If last year's date theme was along the lines of "accepting yourself and your emotions from the past," then I predict that this year's theme seems to be about "experiencing and living the present"; and this is such a fitting theme for Lucien. Why? Because as a character, before he met the MC, he was simply an "observer" instead of a “participant”, curiously observing and experimenting on everything around him, and yet never really ‘participates’ and ‘experiences’ in it.  However, thanks to MC, he has begun to actively participate in the hustle and bustle of the world, experiencing many things that have made him more vibrant and ‘alive’. This transition from ‘observer’ to ‘participant’ is cleverly depicted in this date by making him into a participant in the experiments with MC, rather than solely being the experimenter as usual.

This date as a whole centers around two important things, experience and emotions. While the relationship between experience and emotion can be complex and multifaceted, the way I get it from this date is that; if ‘experience’ is more about the ‘input’ that we get from our senses, then ‘emotions’ are the ‘output’ of our experience. In other words, experiences provide the stimuli that trigger emotional responses. Both experience and emotions are important things for us humans; together, they contribute to our ability to fully engage with and appreciate the present moment, rather than simply going through the motions of survival… They’re also two things that Lucien has been learning over the years.

First, let’s talk about experience, when our observer scientist sheds his lab coat and removes his glasses, he transforms into an ordinary person sincerely in love with you and deeply experiencing love. This date depicts how he experiences love in the warmth of everyday life, and amusingly, it almost makes this date feel as if MC and Lucien are newlyweds on their honeymoon ahah. From shopping for furniture for their new home to encountering silly and unexpected problems that the organizer throws at them (just like how everyday lives always throw problems at us lol), to grocery shopping and cooking together, and cough even the fact that they’re basically ‘on fire’ everyday cough— The grocery shopping parts are especially funny (with just Lucien being Lucien lol)... and cooking scene is just chef kiss. It's really endearing to witness how he adapts to homemaking tasks in his unique way, all because of his love for you.

Still on the topic of ‘experience’; do you know that both of the more descriptive spicy scenes are part of the plot? First, the spicy domming ‘guiding’ scene. In that scene, MC guides him to focus on what his senses told him instead of giving processed answers. And this seems to work because, throughout the date, you can notice him developing more opinions on things based on his senses as he experiences everything. Previously, because he never slowed down and always looked far ahead (See also, his Summer UR MQ, recent CN birthday date and story for more in-depth digging about this theme-), he never fully ‘experienced’ life. But with MC's guidance, her “sharing the world” with him, he starts to perceive the world around him more keenly. This transformation is evident in tasting scenes and fireworks scenes, where he earnestly uses his senses to taste their cooking, hearing the loud firecracker noises, and smelling the scent of gunpowder. She doesn’t only ‘bring’ color to his monochrome world, but also the taste, smell and noises of the world around him as he experiences the present. All these stimuli make his world no longer feel ‘silent’ to him. Sometimes, loving him feels like pulling a ‘god’ from his pedestal to experience the lively and ordinary life of mortals. Perhaps he loses some of his ‘invincibility’ (like for example, that causes him to fall for consumerism trap lol), but in this way, he becomes more alive and real.

Then about emotions. The initial discussion about emotions centers around “emotional synchronization” between lovers, setting the stage for exploring how MC and Lucien perceive and handle each other's emotions. Just as MC accepts all of Lucien's emotions, whether they be sadness or happiness [referencing Lucien’s CN birthday date in 2023], Lucien reciprocates by accepting all of her emotions. Lucien demonstrates emotional stability and maturity as a partner, creating an environment where MC feels no need to restrain her emotions in his presence. He is fond of and intrigued by her colorful range of emotions (and a bittersweet reminder of how her moods affect her “color” in his eyes ahah:”””). This highlights their curiosity and fascination with understanding each other on a deeper level.

For them, all human emotions are important, but MC initially wanted Lucien to feel more positive emotions. With the concept of “emotional sync” in mind, she promises to convey more positive emotions for him, inadvertently restraining her own emotions in the process. However, during their time together in the small city, she learns that even so-called “negative emotions” have value. Despite facing challenges or "troubles," both characters find joy and support in each other's company. MC finds Lucien's moments of vulnerability endearing, while Lucien appreciates MC's encouragement and companionship. They both come to acknowledge the natural ebb and flow of emotions in their relationship, realizing that some negative emotions are far from being detrimental; it’s simply part of their day-to-day life. Those emotional fluctuations are just a very small part of their overall happiness~

ALL THE FEELINGS FROM THE SECOND EXPLICIT SPICY SCENES SUCCESSFULLY MADE ME CRY. Experiencing all sorts of things with her during experiments and everyday life … even things and wishes that he never consciously longed for yet always wanted:

许墨很快乐,很幸福

The meaning of these words are difficult to render accurately in English, and my “Xu Mo/Lucien is very happy, very content with his life.” are just barely scratching the surface… While 快乐(kuài lè) refers to a more transient or temporary feeling of happiness and joy, often related to a fun event, 幸福 (xìng fú) encompasses a profound and enduring sense of happiness and contentment in life. It signifies a state of well-being that extends beyond momentary pleasures, often associated with having a loving family, spouse, fulfilling relationships, and a sense of overall satisfaction with one's life. So when combined, it emphasizes the fact that while experiencing all the ups and downs of the world with her, Lucien is not only feeling immediate joy and pleasure ("快乐"), but also enjoying a deeper, more lasting sense of happiness and fulfilment ("幸福"), he is both happy in the moment and all of his life. By slowing down and deeply experiencing each moment of their shared life, he discovers his own happiness and longing that even he himself never knows about. So, he wants her to experience every bit of his happiness and love that has blossomed because of her… candidly and unrestrainedly wants her to experience all of him.

In another vein, LOVE IS A VERB, NOT A NOUN!!! It's a continual action, continual choice, continual promise to another person. And no matter how many words are spoken, both of them can't fully express the deep love beating in heart. So, when words are too “shallow” to even capture a fraction of deep love and happiness, he can only confess them through instinctive actions, recklessly pouring out his heart in every embrace, every kiss, and every touch. And yet, the question still stands, Can a deep kiss express this love? Can a long embrace reveal the yearning in the depths of our hearts? They’ve done everything, yet it still feels not enough, and perhaps… it will take a lifetime of shared experiences and ‘confessions’ to fully reveal the depths of his love and longing for her.

AND SPEAKING OF CHOICE(S), the BGM choice for that last spicy scene is freaking genius!!! It comes from 5th-anniversary special theatre“The many choices of life” video (You can check it on my YT!). This special video is all about the power of your/MC’s choice. I want to highlight the first “what if” scenario. The first “what if” is about what would happen if she had chosen to not meet Lucien.

In this scenario, the narrative explores what would have happened if MC hadn't met Lucien. Without their encounter, Lucien would still be questioning and seeking understanding from the world around him. He would have found another path, albeit one that didn't involve her, dedicating himself to searching for the 'most optimal solution.' However, his world would remain black and white, indifferent to whether there were people who tried to understand him and care for him :”. Anyway, by using this as a BGM choice, it accentuates the power of your/MC’s choice in shaping him being the way he is right now; while still running on the path to explore truth with dedication, he also finds happiness and contentment along the way because of her choice.

In conclusion, Lucien’s writers never fail to captivate us and deliver top-tier writing! This date highlights the importance of experiencing life fully and embracing all emotions, while also underscoring the transformative power of love~ His writers really excel at utilizing his character to its fullest potential. I can go on and on, talking about all the small details and references on this date but this UR won’t be published any time soon if I do LOL. If you’ve read so far, thank you for reading this date and my rambles~

[damazcuz]

HELLO

i am having top surgery less than 3 weeks from today (January 22, 2024.) this is as sudden to me as it is to you!

Earlier this week I tried talking to my insurance company about what I am going to pay for surgery. you may recall that at the end of 2023 they refused to give me a dollar amount. Unfortunately they refused again to tell me the number. Truly BCBS is the gift that continues to take and take and take. So I have no idea if I have enough saved to cover the cost of surgery (could be right on the money! could be less than I anticipated! could be twice as much! world's most nerve-wracking gashapon machine.)

I also just had my pre-operative appointment this morning and confirmed with my surgeon what I need in recovery. here is my beautiful amazon wishlist for post-op. if you think i will need something that is not on this list reach out to me, I might have bought it offline or I might not know.

IF you don't want to buy me something from amazon but you still want to help me get through this financially, you can send me a ko-fi to help cushion whatever cost i may not have anticipated, as well as the several days I will be without pay* post-surgery BEFORE my built-up time off can be used.

*my workplace's time off policy works in strange ways it's all kind of silly

my third and final request is for simple recipes. I need these because I'm not a very creative cook, and I need to meal prep the weekend of January 20 so that I don't starve and wither to nothing and blow away in the winds leaving nothing but dust. send me a resippy! tell me how to cook! tell me how to make something that's tasty or at least palatable. i don't like pork and struggle with beef but i'll gladly eat chicken and fish. and fruits and vegetables.

so basically that's it, but also thank you from the bottom of my heart for your support over the past few months especially. this site has its ups and downs and good and bad but i think basically there's a lot of good kind people in the world and some of them are you.

if you can share this please do! I appreciate it a lot.

Links again:

[hervey-gervey-chip]

DIY AGE-OF-SAIL INSPIRED FOULIES

part III: the process

it’s been a couple weeks since i finished making the alterations i wanted to make to the bibs before waxing, but we finally had an open shop day at school where i'm not bothering my buddies over at the Lady Washinton (though let’s be honest, the only reason i’m not there now is because they’re in anacortes and i dont wanna do the whole drive-ferry-drive thing). HOWEVER, that means i got to spend 4 hours painting my overalls with hot toxic soup. as far as the soup recipe goes, I did actually end up changing it again. in my first post i said i’d do varnish, and the second post i said black paint. i was going to measure everything out nice and had oz quantities i was going to adhere to, but i forgot my measuring cup… lets be real though, it’s probably more historically accurate to just throw shit in a pot and go. I’M MEASURING BY VIBES FOR SCIENCE!! the final recipe went something like this:

1lb microcrystalline wax

~1 cup mineral spirits

~3/4 cup tung oil

~1/2 cup rust-oleum oil based enamel paint (black)

~2 tbsp pine tar

I probably could have done more pine tar but the class bucket was basically empty and i didn’t want to walk down the hill to get more. I also know that pine tar takes fucking forever to cure, and even a small amount smells incredibly strong (though i certainly don’t mind, i actually prefer to be covered in the stuff most times- it’s more a courtesy to the non-tall shippers who aren’t used to the incredibly concentrated stink of 10 campfires burning directly into your nostrils). the reason i added the pine tar is because of it’s anti-bacterial and anti-microbial properties, since once the bibs are cured i really won’t be able to wash them. also, from my (limited and haphazard) research, you don’t need a lot to reap those benefits.

i put the wax in a double boiler, and once melted, added the oil, thinner, and paint/pine tar all at once. once it was all sufficiently combined, i started painting it on, let it cool a little bit, and then went back in with a heat gun and brush to help the solution impregnate the fibers of the cloth. oh also. make sure you are in a well ventilated space AND WEAR A RESPIRATOR (see the i-learned section below). i did 2 coats all over in this manner, and then a third over the knees, butt, and ankles for good measure.

oils and tar over any kind of fibrous material can take weeks to fully cure (as i have learned well from rigging), so i am expecting to leave my garment and it’s accoutrements hanging in the shop for about 3 weeks before they reach any kind of wearable or testable condition. everything seemed to soak in pretty well, but i left the shop before everything fully cooled so i’ll do another update at the beginning of next week- i’m anticipating that i over-waxed and there will be some residue i will have to deal with (though in what way is to be decided).

cleanup was pretty easy, considering my proclivity for giant messes with any project i engage in- lots of mineral spirits and several rags seemed to do the trick.

some things i learned/would do differently:

oh my god this recipe makes so much. like. so much. i had like 2 cups leftover and i did 2 coats on my overalls, pockets, AND a 1’x3’ piece of spare canvas. if you were just waxing a pair of pants, halving the recipe would still probably be more than enough

putting the cold liquids into the hot wax makes it congeal a little bit, but you can’t tell when the black paint makes the entire contents of the pot turn, well, BLACK. id put the transparent stuff in first, let it all melt together, and then add the black paint so that there wouldn’t suddenly be so many solid particles all at once

MIX FREQUENTLY. photo 3 shows the difference. i had mixed it really well at the beginning, but once it was all (presumably) a single solution, i stopped worrying about mixing it. the thing about paint/varnish/buildable coatings is that the reason they are buildable or have any sort of pigment is because of the suspended solids within it. this means that over time, the solids will coagulate at the bottom of the container, which is why you have to shake nail polish or stir paint before using it. this also means that i should have been mixing every couple minutes as i was painting it onto the bibs, so i ended up with a very pigmented mixture at the end, and a relatively translucent mix at the beginning. up until a certain point, i was getting a pigment that was not opaque but i was happy with, so i didn’t think too much of it until i was putting on coats that looked more brown than grey or black. anyways, mix your shit.

so… cotton burns. i was painting one leg at a time and then heat gunning it before moving on to the next leg. the wax/oil solution seems to make the fabric more resistant to burning, so the painted bits can take more heat than the untreated cotton next to it. if you, say, for example, (i definitely DID NOT DO THIS) get distracted by a particularly riveting tiktok your friend sent you of a snail vibing on a car windshield while your heat gun is blasting on high 2 inches from your pants, the raw canvas may or may not start smoking. i switched up to painting the Entire back or Entire front before heat gunning, and that seemed to solve the problem (also no more snail tiktoks)

respirators are kind of important. i was in a giant shop with vaulted ceilings next to a wide open garage door and i still had a bit of a headache after 4 hours of standing unprotected next to a pot of hot poison.

photo descriptions:

setup

setup part 2: electric boogaloo

pant ass- upper section 1 coat unmixed, lower section 1 coat mixed

spare canvas in the midst of coat 2

back of spare canvas after coat 1

back of spare canvas after coat 2

waterproof test!

finished garments and spare canvas, ready to cure

cleanup

[jackles010378]

As simple as Pie 🥧

Dean winchester x y/n

No warnings just pure fluff 🥰

Dean started to visit the new bakery in town that y/n had opened. Has Dean's love of pie found him a love of his own.................

(I apologise now if this doesn't make sense but it's the most I've written the past few weeks and I wanted to post something for you guys, I hope you enjoy it 🥰)

Y/n’s bakery in Lawrence, Kansas had become a cozy haven for locals seeking solace in the warmth of freshly baked goods. Among the regular patrons was Dean Winchester, a rugged man with a penchant for sweet pies. His visits were as predictable as the sunrise, and Y/n couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes lingered on her creations.

Dean’s affection for her pies was evident. He’d devour them with gusto, crumbs clinging to the corners of his lips. But there was something more—a subtle tension in the air whenever he stepped through the bakery door. Y/n’s heart fluttered when he flashed that crooked smile, and she wondered if he felt it too.

Sam, Dean’s brother teased him mercilessly. He'd nudge him when Y/n emerged from the kitchen, flour dusting her apron, and whisper conspiratorially. Dean would roll his eyes, but his gaze never wavered from her.

One chilly afternoon, as the scent of cinnamon and apples enveloped the bakery, Dean lingered by the counter. Y/n handed him a slice of warm apple pie, the crust flaky and golden. His fingers brushed against hers, and time seemed to slow. She caught a glimpse of vulnerability in his eyes—the same vulnerability she felt whenever he was near.

“Thanks, Y/n,” Dean murmured, his voice low and intimate. “Your pies are something else.”

She smiled, heart racing. “It’s my secret ingredient,” she teased. “Love.”

Dean’s laughter was like a melody, and Y/n wondered if he tasted the unspoken truth. Maybe the sweetness of her pies mirrored the sweetness of their stolen glances, the shared smiles that held promises yet unspoken.

As the days turned into weeks, Y/n found herself baking more than just pies. She baked hope, anticipation, and the fragile possibility of something more. And Dean? Well, he kept coming back, each slice of pie a silent confession.

In the quiet moments between flour-dusted aprons and lingering touches, Y/n wondered if Dean’s heart was as tangled as hers. Perhaps love, like pie, needed time to rise—to reach that perfect balance of sweetness and warmth.

So in the heart of Lawrence, Kansas, amidst the scent of vanilla and butter, Y/n and Dean danced a delicate waltz. The bakery walls held their secrets—the stolen glances, the shared laughter, and the unspoken question. Could love be as simple as pie?

Only time would tell, but for now, Y/n continued to bake her sweet creations, hoping that each slice carried a little bit of magic—a recipe for love that transcended flour and sugar.

The air in Y/n’s cozy bakery seemed to hold its breath, as if waiting for the inevitable. Y/n and Dean circled each other like two planets caught in a delicate gravitational dance. Their stolen glances spoke volumes, yet neither dared to breach the unspoken boundary.

Dean, with his rugged exterior and a heart that bore scars from battles fought, was a man of action. But when it came to matters of the heart, he stumbled like a novice. He’d linger by the counter, fingers tracing the edge of his coffee cup, eyes following Y/n’s every move. His laughter, once boisterous, now held a hint of vulnerability.

Y/n, too, grappled with her emotions. The scent of cinnamon and vanilla clung to her skin, a reminder of shared moments. She’d catch herself staring at Dean’s hands—the same hands that cradled her pies, that brushed against hers when he accepted a slice. Her heart whispered secrets she dared not utter aloud.

Sam, the ever-watchful brother, exchanged knowing glances. He teased Dean mercilessly, nudging him whenever Y/n stepped away to refill the sugar bowl. “Just tell her,” Sam would say, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. “Life’s too short for unsaid words.”

But Dean? He’d scoff, pretending indifference. “Pie’s good,” he’d mumble, avoiding Y/n’s gaze. Yet, when she laughed, the sound like wind chimes on a breezy day, he’d forget his bravado.

One rainy afternoon, the bakery was empty except for the two of them. Y/n wiped down the counter, her apron stained with flour. Dean leaned against the doorframe, raindrops clinging to his hair. The silence stretched, fragile as spun sugar.

“Dean,” Y/n began, her voice barely audible. “Do you believe in magic?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Magic? Like rabbits out of hats?”

“No,” she said, stepping closer. “The kind that happens when two souls connect. When a simple slice of pie becomes a bridge between hearts.”

Dean’s gaze softened. “Maybe,” he admitted. “But magic doesn’t last.”

“Maybe it doesn’t need to,” Y/n replied. “Maybe it’s enough to savor the sweetness while it lasts.”

He reached for her hand, calloused fingers intertwining with hers. “Y/n,” he said, voice raw. “I’ve tasted your pies. But what I hunger for is something more.”

Her heart raced. “And what’s that?”

His lips brushed against hers, a whisper of warmth. “You,” he confessed. “I hunger for you.”

Rain tapped against the window, a gentle rhythm. Y/n kissed him, and in that stolen moment, magic bloomed—a recipe of longing, vulnerability, and courage.

So, amidst the scent of baked goods and rain-kissed air, Y/n and Dean confessed their feelings. The bakery walls absorbed their whispered promises, sealing them in a cocoon of love.

And as the rain subsided. Y/n knew that sometimes, love was as simple as pie—sweet, warm, and worth every risk.

The rain-kissed streets outside Y/n’s bakery seemed to echo the rhythm of her racing heart. Dean’s confession lingered in the air, a fragile promise waiting to be fulfilled. Their lips had met—a sweet collision of longing and courage—but what lay beyond that stolen kiss?

In the days that followed, Y/n and Dean navigated the delicate dance of newfound affection. The bakery became their sanctuary, a place where time slowed and the world faded into the background. Each morning, Y/n would prepare fresh pastries, her hands moving with a purpose that transcended flour and sugar. Dean would arrive, his eyes seeking hers, and they’d share stolen glances—their secret language.

Sam continued their teasing. “Dean,” Sam would say, “you’ve got it bad.” a knowing smile on his face. But Dean? He’d roll his eyes, feigning annoyance, yet his gaze never strayed far from Y/n.

One afternoon, as golden sunlight streamed through the bakery window, Dean sat at the corner table. Y/n approached, a cup of coffee in hand. His fingers brushed hers, and she felt the spark—the same one that ignited when their lips met. She cleared her throat, her heart pounding.

“Dean,” she began, “about that magic we talked about…”

He leaned forward, curiosity in his eyes. “Yeah?”

“It’s real,” she whispered. “Between us.”

Dean’s smile was slow, like honey dripping from a spoon. “You think so?”

“I know so,” Y/n said. “But magic requires more than stolen kisses. It needs vulnerability, honesty.”

He traced the rim of his coffee cup. “I’ve never been good at that.”

“Neither have I,” Y/n admitted. “But maybe we can learn together.”

And so, they did. They shared stories—the scars they carried, the dreams they harbored. Dean spoke of battles fought, of loss and redemption. Y/n revealed her love for baking, the way it healed her soul. They laughed, they argued, and sometimes, they sat in companionable silence, fingers entwined.

One evening, as twilight painted the sky in shades of lavender, Dean stood outside the bakery. Y/n watched from the window, her heart in her throat. He hesitated, then stepped inside. The bell above the door chimed—a melody of hope.

“Y/n,” Dean said, his voice raw. “I’ve never been good with words. But I want this—us.”

She took his hand, her fingers fitting perfectly in the spaces between his. “Dean,” she replied, “magic isn’t about perfection. It’s about vulnerability. It’s about saying, ‘I’m scared, but I’m willing.’”

He kissed her then—a promise sealed with warmth and uncertainty. The bakery walls absorbed their confession, and outside, rain began to fall—a gentle patter against the roof.

As they stood there, hearts entwined, Y/n knew that love was indeed as simple as pie. It required the right ingredients—trust, laughter, shared secrets—and the courage to slice through fear.

And so, in the heart of Lawrence, Kansas, amidst the scent of cinnamon and love, Y/n and Dean embarked on their next chapter—a love story written in flour-dusted kisses and rain-soaked promises.

TAGLIST: @k-slla @cevansbaby-dove @kaleldobrev @janineb86 @deans-daydream @alternativeprincess94 @nescavaneck @angelbabyyy99

[bihanspookies]

Which tekken ex!boyfriends would fuck you better than your new bf ever could?

I’m not sure if this is what you had in mind anon but!

Mentions of religious stuff in Claudio’s lmao

Anyway

HWOARANG HWOARANG HWOARANG

HWOARANG‼️‼️‼️

That man is cocky, arrogant, hot headed and it’s mainly one of the reasons you break up

But googly moogly it works so well in the bedroom bc he knows what he’s doing!!!

Sex with him was always an adventure bc no matter where you were, how short the session was, or how much pent up frustration he had he would ALWAYS make sure you came first. Your pleasure is his pleasure and seeing you cum would always more than likely careen him into his own orgasm.

Your new bf doesn’t give you the same thrill and you unfortunately find yourself comparing the way he fucks you to how Hwoarang would. He doesn’t tease you like Hwoarang would, doesn’t have that air of arrogance in his voice that you found yourself missing whenever you were having sex with your boyfriend and he certainly doesn’t have a motorcycle that he could fuck you on.

Victor Chevalier:

I SAID WHAT I SAID AND YOU WILL HEAR ME OUT.

First of all this hc post I did says enough

Second of all!!

Honestly why would you break up with him but you did in this scenario so.

Victor is an older man, like at least somewhere in his late 50’s early 60’s. Combine that with his looks, charm, wealth, and overall lifestyle it basically a recipe for the perfect man who fucks just right.

Older man are more experienced blah blah blah BUT VICTOR? It is very much true for him. He treated you with the upmost respect in and out of the bedroom!!!

Sure your new younger bf is nice and sweet but he doesn’t have the same charm as Victor! Doesn’t fuck the same way! There was something about fucking in the most expensive places ever while wearing the most fabulous silky robes that truly changed the way you viewed sex. Of course none of that is important but bc it was such an integrated part of Victor you grew used to it, used the fancy and lavish type of sex.

Claudio Serafino:

HOT TAKE

But I think he would be on this list.

You break up bc he’d be too dedicated in trying to eradicate all the evil in the world BUT! The moments he does spend fucking you?? God sent.

I think he’d be like Hwoarang in the teasing sense but not as cocky or arrogant about it. He’s so smooth and subtle about it that you don’t even realize he’s teasing, it’s sort of like a game of anticipation.

He can be very cocky and sarcastic when he wants to be though! The times he’s like that you better hold on tight because his teasing can be borderline a bit mean but you like it.

Also I’m not saying he would bring religion into the bedroom but he just might!

That sort of thrill of doing something taboo with someone who is actually an Exorcist?? Your new bf COULD NEV-ER👏.

He helps you discover kinks about yourself and is more than happy to dive further into them.

NEW BF COULD NEVERRRRRRRR!!

BONUS

Anna Williams:

Dommy mommy

That’s it that’s the tweet.

You think anybody after Anna would compare to her?? Hell no!!!! This woman FUCKS!!!! Toys, kinks, pushing limits, etc etc etc. She took you to new heights that you’ve never experienced and presented so many new things into sex for you that truly no one else is going ever top that.

[fortisfilia]

Promised Part 11 - Tom Riddle x reader

Info: This is a rewrite of a story I've posted on my old account years ago. If it sounds familiar, that might be why :)

Summary: In this story, Tom didn't grow up as an orphan, but with his grandfather and uncle. Reader's sister got very sick and the Gaunts offer their help. But not without asking for something in return.

Warnings: Arranged marriage, an unholy amount of fluff

Word count: 2.3k

Masterpost | Masterlist | Part 10 | Part 12

Part 11 - The Earth's Centre

Starting to brew the antidote for Mors Grano proved easier than anticipated. The potion’s base was quite similar to any other healing draught, and so was its production. You had decided to begin the tedious process, even though the Banshee tears were missing. According to the recipe, they were the last ingredient to be added, so you had plenty of time to find them, even if you didn’t know exactly how.

For the first few weeks, there was nothing to do but the Moondew cook, stirring it frequently. The cauldron stood in Tom’s room, its content simmering steadily, ready to be examined at any moment by one of you. 

Professor Beery had denied you the bonus points for the N.E.W.T.s after you had told him that the Moly had unfortunately died. Those points were the least of your problems, however.

The plant had, in fact, bloomed beautifully, ready to be added to the potion.

And that was when the difficulties began. As soon as you dropped the blossoms into the cauldron, the potion started to smell. Very strongly. The mixture reacted in a way that wasn’t described in the book and started to produce yellow steam, as well as a sour, headache-inducing odour, which reached beyond the walls of Tom’s room. The fume filled up every last inch of his dorm and even seemed to creep out into the Slytherin common room. Other students had begun to mention the weird smell and even Dippet, who had paid Tom a number of unfortunate surprise visits, was beginning to grow suspicious.

You had sent your parents an owl to inform them you wouldn’t come home during your semester break. They weren’t exactly happy about it; you had never stayed at Hogwarts during the holidays after all. But you had insisted, telling them there was so much studying to do until they finally let go. That wasn’t even a lie. There was a bunch of work to do. Granted, not all of it was related to school, but you still had a lot on your plate. 

Tom stayed in Hogwarts for the week as well. You weren’t sure but highly doubted that he had notified his own family about it. And to be fair, they wouldn’t really care about that, would they?

Although the school was practically empty, with only a fraction of the students staying with you, those who remained complained of the pungent smell in all the Slytherin dormitories. On Sunday evening you heard that the housekeeper had been sent to find the source, and Tom was informed that Mr Carpe would begin his search the following morning.

So there you were, worrying about what to do, stirring the cauldron for the twentieth time within the last minutes, hoping it would steam less, the more you whisked through it. No matter how hard you concentrated, how many options you took into account, there was nowhere to take the cauldron where its smell would go unnoticed. 

The Potions classroom was off-limits, even though it was much better equipped for the fumes. Slughorn would spend a lot of his time there, to prepare tasks for the upcoming semester. You had even considered taking it home and telling your parents about it. But using the Floo-Network with an item this heavy wasn’t possible, and taking the train with a simmering cauldron seemed ridiculous. Besides, the antidote still took months to finish, so you would have to take it back to Hogwarts a week later anyway.

Hell, you had even thought of taking that damned kettle out onto the Quidditch pitch or into the forest, so no one would smell it anymore. But you couldn’t leave it out in the open, of course.

Just when you had given up hope and realised that you couldn’t go on brewing the potion in Tom’s room, or anywhere else, he had told you about another possibility. There was this room on the seventh floor that he had discovered in fifth year. He called it the Come and Go Room and was positive that no one but himself, not even the teachers, knew of its existence. The room must have been enchanted, according to Tom, and only appeared when one was in dire need.

So the two of you went there that same night, in a cloak and dagger operation, levitating the cauldron behind you. You had covered it with a white sheet so that if someone saw you, they at least wouldn’t know initially what you were doing. The disguise was weak and you knew if Dippet or any other teacher would spot you, you would be screwed.

Luckily none of them were around when you rushed through the halls, aside from Warren O’Connor, a Ravenclaw fifth year, who patrolled a corridor next to their tower. He was too far away to detect the poorly hidden cauldron and didn’t even seem to look at you once he recognised Tom. 

When you had finally arrived, chest heaving, thoughts rushing from relief and tension, Tom instructed you how to summon the Come and Go Room. You walked past the stone wall three times and imagined, very carefully, what you needed. An airtight room that allowed you to keep on brewing your potion in peace, that no one would be able to find unless you wanted them to. Suddenly, a door appeared. You looked at Tom and he nodded before you took the handle and opened it.

The small room behind the door was, simply put, perfect. Your very own Potions laboratory. Dark and nifty, it offered enough little cabinets to store all the ingredients for the antidote, as well as a worktop to put the cauldron on. Everything looked as if it had been custom made, just for this purpose. Which it was, you had just created it all yourself. 

Now that the cauldron was in a safe place Tom felt more at ease and even thought that the semester break could turn out to be enjoyable. Why did that relax him, though? A question he had asked himself more than once. He didn’t have to care, nor did he have to help his fiancée to save her sister. Then why had he done it? 

He didn’t have a logical answer to that question, even though the illogical one seemed to grow stronger, slowly putting down roots and beginning to blossom. He shrugged it off. But there were so many questions of the same kind running through his mind. Why did he care? He had never cared before. For anyone. That girl wouldn’t bring him where he wanted to be just by marrying him. Sure, her family was respected. Of course, they were purebloods, which was why his Grandfather had taken notice of them. But it had never been Tom’s wish to marry her. So why didn’t he mind the thought anymore? The idea of watching her walk down the aisle had repelled him immensely when he had found out what Marvolo’s plan had been. And now it didn’t. He must have gotten used to the idea. It even bugged him to think about the fact that the marriage wouldn’t happen by chance if the antidote was finished soon enough. Then why did he help her?

There was something inside of him, something he couldn’t just pinpoint yet. Something that made him do the things he had done, even when it had gone against his own benefit. Something that made him care less and less about himself. It must have turned all of his morals upside down, because somehow, and he couldn’t explain why, the most important thing was to see her happy. He didn’t even know when his priorities had changed. When he had stopped putting himself first. But it had happened. And that irritated him beyond belief.

She had been so easy to dislike. Back then, when they were sitting in her dining room alone. When she had stared at him, eagerly waiting for him to pity her. So conceited. Desperate for his attention. But then again, she had been so easy to like. When had he started giving in? At first, he had felt nothing more than disgust, appalled by the turmoil inside his head. That nasty feeling in his chest and his weak knees. But once he had surrendered, it had begun to feel good.

All he wanted - no - all he needed now, was to make sure she was safe. Protect her. Help her. That wasn’t just an act of kindness though. He had figured out that apparently, he mirrored her emotions. When she was pleased, he was too. When she was angry, he couldn’t help but feel furious as well. When she was sad, his chest stung with her. It felt like a purpose. Like she was the earth’s centre and everyone else, even himself, merely spun around her. She had his full attention now and he didn’t plan on taking it from her anytime soon. 

If someone were to ask him why, he wouldn’t even know where to begin. How does one even begin to describe such an embarrassing accumulation of emotion and weakness alike? If he had to, he’d start with her glow. That devotion she seemed to radiate anywhere she was. Her relentless spirit and how ready she was to combat anyone with it. How tender she was with people that deserved it. And how ruthless she could be with those who didn’t. The way she moved in her sleep, slowly and gently, turning over and unknowingly stealing his blanket at least twice a night. The way her chest moved up and down when she lay next to him. How her eyes seemed to light up when she awoke and looked at him. The hours he had watched her. Held her. Felt her skin brushing against his own, just like in this moment. How could anyone experience that and not have the urge to keep it? To freeze those moments in time and lock them up, safely, for nobody to see. 

Tom wasn’t sure if she was aware of how nervous she made him. He knew how to hide it, but was ever so annoyed at how much he depended on being close to her. And he usually wasn’t the one to become jittery. That was the response he normally got. Freda Morris, for example, couldn’t seem to think straight when he had taken her out once, during their sixth year. Merlin’s beard, that lass was nerve-wrenching. 

Quite contrary to her. No one had ever done that to him. She had crawled under his skin and into his head, drugging his mind until almost every single thought he produced revolved around her. But he knew his place. She hadn’t befuddled him just to make him her pawn. He knew, because that was what his family had done ever since he could remember. She had never done him wrong. Maybe that was why he had helped her. And why he was willing to do anything for her, even if it meant for him to suffer. He was the antagonist in their story, he knew. And if he was poison, she was the remedy. If he was the villain, she was the treasure worth saving. 

Tom’s pitiful monologue was interrupted when she woke up, opened her eyes and looked at him.

“Morning,” she said quietly and smiled.

He looked at her for a moment. If only she knew. 

“Morning,” he replied.

She stretched her arms in the air and yawned, then turned towards him and ran her fingers along his jawline. Bliss.

“How long have you been awake?” she asked, staring at the stubble on his chin that her thumb had just touched.

“Not long,” he lied. “Just a few minutes.”

She grinned and placed a kiss onto the left end of his lips. “I have to get up and stir the potion. Care to join me?”

“Sure.”

“Good. Oh, and I think I’m going to go to Diagon Alley in the afternoon. To buy the Foxgloves. I have to add them next week.”

“I’ll come.”

She exhaled and pulled him in, nuzzling into his neck. 

“Do you think we should go to Knockturn Alley as well?” she asked, her voice muffled. “While we’re there. I want to see if any store offers Banshee tears.”

“I don’t think they do,” Tom said and she lifted her head to look at him.

“But where else then?”

“I think I know where we could get some.”

She nodded, urging him to tell her.

“Well, I’m sure Morfin owns a flask. He had to get it if he wanted to brew the antidote, didn’t he?”

“But if they never planned on curing Elsie entirely, I don’t think he would have gotten them.”

“Marvolo never planned on curing her,” Tom said. “Morfin did. He’s a Potions master. One that doesn’t care about legality. He knows every last person that deals with ingredients like that. Even if he never intended to free her, I’m sure he got them just in case he ever needed them for himself.”

Her eyes roamed his face as she pondered. “So what do we do now? Go to your house, search his chamber and steal the flask?”

Tom shook his head. “That won’t be as easy. They’re always home, Marvolo has his eyes everywhere. Even the house-elves would alarm him.”

She frowned, brows furrowed while she lightly tugged on his hair.

“They’ll be gone,” Tom went on. “In late March. The Order of Merlin gets honoured and they are both invited. We could go then and try to find it.”

There it was again. That spark in her eyes. 

“Okay,” she answered. “Let’s do it then. But for now, let’s stay here for five more minutes.”

Masterpost | Masterlist | Part 12

Tags: @ariachaos @daardyrnitta

[haxyr3]

How to say "receptively" in Russian?

Last night, while enjoying a quiet evening with a book, I stumbled upon an intriguing word: “receptively.” I was reading J.D. Salinger’s short stories when I came across this sentence: “I waited for more information, receptively, but none came.”

Why did this word catch my attention? Because I couldn’t easily translate it into Russian! Though I immediately grasped its meaning, it was the first time I encountered it. The Latin roots made it somewhat intuitive: recipe, recipient, receptacle, reception, and of course, receive. In the context, the character was curious, anticipating more information that never arrived. This subtle sense of openness, the act of being ready to receive information, is beautifully summed up in one adverb: receptively. But how do you translate that into Russian?

When we talk about receiving information in Russian, we usually use the verb воспринимать (to perceive). However, the related adjective восприимчивый describes a person as being susceptible or receptive—more of a character trait than a momentary action. As for the adverb восприимчиво, well, it doesn’t exist in Russian, as confirmed by the Russian National Corpus. You can’t perform an action восприимчиво.

In the comments on my poll, we explored possible alternatives and landed on заинтересованно (with interest). It’s close, suggesting a willingness to receive information—not just being open to it but actually wanting it.

The official translation by Sulamith Minita reads: “Весь обратившись в слух, я ждал дальнейшей информации, но ее не последовало” (I waited, all ears, for more information, but none came). Instead of a direct equivalent for receptively, the translator used an idiom, confirming my suspicion: there’s no exact adverb in Russian that conveys the same idea.

Interestingly, when I discussed this word with my English-speaking friends, some said receptively feels almost made-up, and my poll echoed that—about 10 percent of respondents agreed! Even Context Reverso shows that some English speakers confuse receptively with respectively, which is why I included both in the poll.

Once again, I’m reminded of the incredible challenge translators face. They constantly navigate these subtle linguistic nuances, and it’s nothing short of impressive. Let this post serve as a heartfelt appreciation for their work!

[teyamskxawng]

In Heat [I]

Lo'ak Sully x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Keep reading: Chapter II, Chapter III, Chapter IV

The rundown: You seek out Lo'ak, your best friend, in the midst of your first heat cycle. Like the good friend he is, Lo'ak eases you through it.

Warnings: 18+ content, smut, language, characters are aged up, minors do not interact!! please

WC: 5.5k

A/N: user @teyamsxawng's first fic is about lo'ak??? yeah...i have neteyam fics in the works but this was the first avatar fic i wrote so i'm pushing it out now :) i'm also really scared to post my work so please be kind lol. i have like six chapters of this fic written so far with no clear ending in sight, so expect to see more of this soon.

Your first heat was about to begin, and you tried to mentally prepare yourself for what you heard would be an excruciating experience. You had a rough idea of what your first cycle would entail–discomfort, fatigue, and a touch of humiliation–but little did you know just how much it would affect you. Bracing yourself for the onslaught, you grappled with an intensity you had never anticipated.

As you lay on your sleeping mat in the solitude of your home, you curled into a tight ball, desperately trying to cope with the nearly-unbearable pain. The sensation was comparable to harboring a living, breathing creature within you, its heartbeat sending shockwaves of agony throughout your body.

You imagined it being a tiny drummer, vigorously banging its drums in tune with your torment. Hopelessly, you squeezed your legs together, desperate for even the slightest relief amidst the immense pressure emanating from your core. Never in your wildest dreams had you expected your heat to be this intense and all-consuming, turning your routine upside down and leaving you at the mercy of your body.

Amid your futile attempts at alleviating the mounting pressure with your own untrained fingers, you realized that you had no clue what the fuck you were doing. Your anxiety levels skyrocketed as you envisioned the possibility of exacerbating your situation, fearing that you'd end up hurting yourself even more if you tried anything on your own.

With every passing moment, your mind betrayed you–compulsively circling back to the one individual you were trying to distract yourself from: Lo'ak, your best friend.

Tackling that emotional behemoth would be a mental expedition akin to scaling the Hallelujah Mountains with your eyes closed, and you lacked the cognitive stamina for such an endeavor. Regardless, the stubborn recollection of the boy proved to be relentless, a mental scratch that demanded to be itched. Memories of his ability to make your world right again resurfaced, and you couldn't help but contemplate that maybe he was the secret recipe to your current dilemma.

You couldn't deny that you were on the verge of making a catastrophically bad decision, one that would go down in your personal history book as an all-time low. However, it was as if your body had mustered all of its strength to overpower your subconscious completely, that annoying little voice of reason, and take matters into its own hands.

Before you knew it, you were on your two feet, feeling slightly wobbly but determined, run-walking out of your tent like a woman on a mission, seeking out your best friend.

You didn't even have to engage in any sort of exuberating journey to figure out where he'd be. It was as if your very soul could smell him.

His clean, robust musk seamlessly mingled with the sweet spice of his cleansing balm, creating an alluring fusion that your senses simply couldn't resist. The aroma captivated you entirely, and you found yourself drawn to him like a moth to a flame, your feet carrying your body toward the source of sensory delight.

Venturing into the forest, you kept a discreet distance from Hometree and the rest of the clanspeople, desiring solitude, with the only exception being Lo'ak.

You stumbled upon him near a shallow creek, his posture keen and attentive as he scanned the water for signs of fish darting through its depths. His back was a mesmerizing sight, his dark blue stripes tracing the outline of his sinewy, lean muscles.

So alluring was the view that you clenched your fists tightly, restraining yourself from fulfilling the irresistible urge to reach out and touch him. It was as if every fiber of your being demanded that you do so, and it took every ounce of your willpower to resist.

Against your will, an entirely embarrassing sound that was half sigh and half whimper escaped your lips. The unexpected noise caused Lo'ak to jolt in surprise, his hand swiftly reaching for the dagger at his hip as he whirled around to confront the sudden intruder.

In a fleeting moment, the anxiety etched on Lo'ak's face dissolved, replaced by mild amusement as he realized it was none other than his best friend. However, it didn't take long for his concern to resurface as he took in your bewildering appearance.

It was clear you were utterly discombobulated, a far cry from your usual poised demeanor. Your cheeks were flushed a deep purple. Your usually sleek, well-groomed hair had gone rogue, appearing as though you had either been tossing and turning in a fitful slumber or wrestling with a goddamn palulukan.

Adding to your unkempt appearance, your chest was drenched in sweat, heaving rapidly up and down as though you had just sprinted to your location yet still found yourself gasping for air. But what really captured Lo'ak's undivided attention, and sent a shiver down his spine, were your eyes.

Gone were the golden irises he knew so well, replaced by a dark hazel hue that was almost brown. Even more disconcerting, your pupils were dilated to an unnerving degree, appearing as wide as your irises themselves.

Without hesitation, Lo'ak rushed to your side and extended his arm to grasp your forearm gently. "y/n, are you good? You look kinda…"

He couldn't even bring himself to finish the sentence. The only way he could describe you was looking completely disheveled. And the sound you made earlier was definitely not something he was going to dwell on.

You blinked at Lo'ak's hand on your arm. You heaved several deep breaths, attempting to compose yourself. Opening and closing your mouth, it was evident you were wrestling with the right words to convey your thoughts. Eventually, you shook your head in defeat and covered your face with your hands, groaning loudly.

Witnessing this only served to heighten Lo'ak's concern. He furrowed his brow as he studied your condition. "y/n?" he inquired nervously, imagining the worst-case scenario.

Still shielding your face with your hands, you managed to mumble something that might've resembled a sentence. Lo'ak couldn't help but let out a snicker that briefly reverberated through his body. Regaining his composure, he tilted his head in confusion, entirely unable to decipher your garbled words. He admitted honestly, "I have no idea what you're trying to say."

You sighed in defeat. The close proximity of Lo'ak, combined with the overwhelming frustration you felt between your legs, completely overshadowed any embarrassment you may have otherwise experienced.

"I said," you started, your dark eyes fixated on Lo'ak's with an intensity he couldn't ignore, "I just started my first heat cycle." Lo'ak's eyes went wide with shock at your confession.

Of all the things he'd imagined you saying, this possibility ranked the lowest on his mental list. He found himself at a loss for words and unsure what to think or do, especially as he involuntarily pictured you in a state of undeniable sexual frustration.

In response, all he could muster was a weak "oh," his voice faltering mid-syllable, making the situation all the more awkward.

You emitted what sounded like a pained groan, your emotions threatening to overflow into tears. In a vulnerable gesture, you allowed your forehead to rest against Lo'ak's shoulder. He couldn't help but tense up in response to your warm body pressed against him.

"Lo'ak," you whispered through clenched teeth, "it hurts so bad."

Lo'ak found himself struggling for air in the tense situation. With a shaky nod, he attempted to comprehend your words and determine the next course of action. As your best friend, it shouldn't have been a shock that you sought him out during your time of need, especially when that need was your first heat cycle.

Lo'ak hesitantly cleared his throat, trying to dislodge the uneasy feeling that had taken up residence there. "Uh. Are you gonna be okay?" he asked hesitantly.

Blinking repeatedly, your eyelashes tickled Lo'ak's shoulder, causing him to shudder. Your voice was filled with uncertainty as you admitted, "I don't know. I can't… I'm scared I'll make it worse or hurt myself or…I don't know. I just need—"

Your grip on Lo'ak's arms tightened, your words trailing off. The message was clear—you had no idea what to do, and you were scared, turning to Lo'ak for solace and support.

In that instant, Lo'ak found himself filled with a sudden surge of empathy and understanding. With newfound determination, he placed his hands on your back, extending his fingers across your skin as he gently rubbed up and down.

Upon feeling his reassuring touch, you exhaled sharply, adjusting your position to bury your face in the crook of his neck. For a while, you two simply remained like that, sharing gentle caresses and the soothing sound of your uneven breaths.

At last, you found your voice amidst the silence. "Lo'ak," you whispered, your tone holding a mixture of gratitude and vulnerability.

It was barely audible, a faint whisper in the wind, yet Lo'ak caught it without any trouble, and he could undeniably sense the subtle movement of your body, inching even closer to his.

At first, Lo'ak couldn't tell whether you had done that deliberately, but then you shifted your weight further down onto his leg, nestling his left thigh snugly between your own two legs, ever so gently grazing yourself on his taut muscle.

Lo'ak had to consciously remind himself to breathe, to inhale and exhale, because there was no way that you could possibly be getting yourself off on his leg. Shamelessly. Completely unapologetic.

The physical contact must not have been enough to provide you any relief, as evidenced by the fragmented cry of aggravation that reverberated against his neck. "It's not…."

Lo'ak fully understood your sentiment, nodding his head empathetically at your frustration. "No, yeah. Here, let's just—"

He pulled away from you, or rather, he gently moved you away from himself, extracting a barely audible whimper from you. He held you delicately by the shoulders, keeping you at arm's length, and his heart plummeted at the sight of the tears that meandered down from your glassy eyes.

You were hurting and in distress, and witnessing it tore Lo'ak apart. In a flurry of motion, he reached out to cradle your face, tenderly wiping away each persistent tear with the pads of his thumbs.

You squeezed your eyes shut, cheeks burning with a mixture of embarrassment and frustration as you tried to keep your composure. His gentle touch drove you to the brink of madness. You loathed feeling so exposed and powerless, particularly in Lo'ak's presence. You took solace in the fact that, at the very least, he wasn't poking fun at you or rubbing salt in your emotional wounds. No, he was actually being kind.

In a soft voice, Lo'ak said, "C'mere," as he retreated towards an enormous tree trunk. Gently placing a hand on your wrist, he coaxed you to follow him. And in your current state of emotional upheaval, you found yourself unable to resist his pull.

Lo'ak found a comfortable spot on the forest floor, casually sitting against a tree trunk with his legs stretched out before him.

"You can sit if you want…it might be easier," he offered, attempting to hide the fact that his own face was now flushed with what could only be described as a matching shade of purple to yours. The tension of the situation was not lost on either of you.

He didn't need to tell you twice. In a move that bordered on comedic desperation, you practically threw yourself onto Lo'ak's lap, settling on his left thigh with a soft sigh. The newly adjusted position felt infinitely better than before. The direct contact sent shivers down your spine, and the pressure on your core momentarily eased as you clamped your thighs around his leg.

You were desperately chasing that tantalizing feeling, and you could hardly bring yourself to feel a hint of shame as your body instinctively pursued it.

With an almost artful finesse, you adjusted your hips to attain the perfect level of pressure on your front. You were acutely aware of the dampness that began to form on Lo'ak's thigh due to your wetness, and even though a flicker of internal mortification plagued you, you simply couldn't find it in yourself to halt your actions.

With each move, you felt Lo'ak's leg flex beneath you, inadvertently applying exquisite pressure against the sensitive nub at your front.

The sensation was nothing short of divine. It was so overwhelming that you couldn't help but let out a moan of pleasure—a sound foreign to your ears but not significant enough to make you care.

Lo'ak, on the flip side, was experiencing an entirely different world.

His senses were fully alert, allowing him to take in every sight, sound, and feeling that unfolded before him in real-time. The whole situation played out like the most incredible, wet, thrillingly vivid dream he had ever encountered.

Desperate to maintain his composure, Lo'ak clenched his hands tightly against his sides, so much so that his knuckles turned a few shades paler than their initial blue.

As he attempted to stay as collected as possible, he couldn't help but wish for some magic remedy to sort out his persistent erection. It pressed uncomfortably against his loincloth at an awkward angle as if it were mocking him.

You unexpectedly interrupted his chain of thought, your voice sounding broken and desperate.

"I'm sorry," you breathed out, your eyes clenched shut as your mouth fell open, unable to suppress another moan. "just feels so good."

Lo'ak observed you with the utmost attention, his heart clenching tightly within his chest. In a barely audible volume, he softly reassured you, "Don't apologize; it's okay. Do what you have to do."

He was confident that, despite his subdued tone, you could hear and understand him fully.

You inhaled deeply, your breath quavering as you attempted to calm yourself down. Your tongue swept across your parched lips, and you swallowed, trying to dislodge the lump in your throat. You found yourself unable to respond, yet continued experimenting with different rhythms and levels of pressure, determined to find the optimal approach to take yourself to the verge of ecstasy.

As your quest yielded fruitful results, you began better understanding your body.

With every sway of your hips, you experienced a surge of delight that coursed through your entire being. Each motion brushed your most sensitive areas against Lo'ak's narrow, muscular frame, sending chills up your spine.

You could feel your breaths growing shallower and more rapid, the warmth of your breath caressing Lo'ak's skin as your eyes remained tightly shut in indulgence. You allowed yourself to fully enjoy the moment, unabashedly taking advantage of his presence for the sake of your own pleasure.

As you continued, the tension within your abdomen stretched further and further, like a taut rubber band about to snap. Beads of sweat formed on your glistening skin, and your panting filled the air.

The overwhelming sense of pleasure threatened to pour forth, and your toes instinctively curled in response to the inevitable release building inside you. Unable to contain yourself any longer, you let out a delicate mewl while elevating the speed of your motions.

You uttered desperately, "I'm so close, Lo'…fuck. It's so much." Your voice, filled with raw emotion, dripped with anticipation.

As that blissful sensation intensified within your lower abdomen, teetering on the edge of release, Lo'ak took a deep swallow. His voice was low and throaty as he softly whispered to you, providing reassurance and encouragement, "You're okay, y/n. Just let yourself go."

His words were just what you needed, a string of curses falling from your lips as you felt your orgasm wash over and your walls clench around nothing. Your face softened with pleasure as you let out a shaky exhale, still sliding your now completely oversensitive clit across his thigh.

With a whispered sigh, Lo'ak reassured you, "Just like that, I've got you. It's okay." His hands tenderly left their perch at his sides, returning to the relative safety of your back. Gently, he stroked your soft skin, providing comfort as you descended from the peak of your intense high.

His soothing words and embrace gave you warmth from within, a sensation of security wrapping you up like a comforting blanket. You couldn't deny the feelings that Lo'ak's presence evoked in you.

At this point, one would presume you had suffered enough self-inflicted humiliation for a single day, but no.

As quickly as you bid farewell to your recent high, an insistent, throbbing ache woke anew within your deepest core. The previous experience proved a mere prequel, a teasing overture for the reverberating need you knew you just could not ignore. Your desires for touch and release cried out incessantly; Lo'ak was nestled beneath you all the while, painfully tempting—so close yet so frustratingly far.

With a gulp of determination and an unceremonious discard of any remaining semblance of pride, you peeled your eyes open, greeted by the half-lidded, entranced gaze of Lo'ak. His voice laced with curiosity; he inquired, "Is it better?"

You knitted your forehead together, desperately attempting to articulate the whirlwind of feelings that surged through you. It was a monumental challenge, one that left your mind racing with a relentless barrage of risqué thoughts involving what you desired Lo'ak to do to you.

Sighing, you muttered to yourself, "How is it still there?"

Lo'ak, on the other hand, was doing everything in his power to grasp the situation and figure out how he could alleviate your distress.

Puzzled, he inquired, "How is what still where…?"

In response, you actually hissed at Lo'ak, baring your fangs and all, unable to contain your frustration. He was so stupid. So warm and strong and pretty and stupid. You thought this as your eyes roamed over his strong, warm, and undeniably attractive figure.

"The urge, skxawng!" Your body involuntarily responded by undulating your hips against Lo'ak's leg. His eyes drifted downward for a moment to follow your movements before refocusing back on your face with concern.

You continued to explain, "The urge to be touched, I don't know why it's still there."

Suddenly, you glanced down at your own body, only then becoming aware of the rhythmic motion you had been unconsciously performing. In an effort to regain some semblance of control, you dug your fingernails into your thighs, willing your body to cease its movements.

Lo'ak grunted at the sight of you holding yourself back, the grip on your legs tight enough to cut off your circulation. Unable to stand it anymore, he pried your slender fingers from your thigh and gently took your hands in his own, much larger ones.

He tried to make eye contact with you but soon realized you were lost in your thoughts, staring intently at your lap. With a bit of patience, he finally managed to catch your dark irises when you fleetingly looked up at him.

"Okay," he began earnestly, "just tell me what I can do to make it better."

Though a bit hesitant, his voice was full of sincerity and determination.

Much to his surprise, your eyes widened even further. Shock, hope, and a dash of something else filled them all at once. He was really giving you complete freedom, entrusting himself to you to alleviate the pain of your heat.

With that, you decided to take the leap. "I want you to use your hands on me," you murmured, bringing yours and Lo'ak's intertwined hands toward your abdomen.

You watched Lo'ak's facial expressions with keen interest as you hesitantly guided his fingers to your most intimate spot. Despite the thin fabric separating his digits from your flesh, you couldn't suppress the breathy moan that escaped your lips.

"Right there," you continued, your voice trembling as you released your grasp on Lo'ak's hand. To your immense relief, his fingers didn't retreat. Instead, they maintained gentle pressure, sending pleasant tingles throughout your lower body.

Suddenly, it was as if Lo'ak had awakened from a daze. He looked up at you with curious desire evident in his eyes but still managed to convey his genuine concern.

"You're sure?" he inquired with the utmost caution, seeking all the verbal affirmation he could possibly get. No matter the circumstance, he would never let himself exploit you in such a vulnerable state.

You rolled your eyes in annoyance at Lo'ak's search for reassurance.

You couldn't help but think that Lo'ak asking for consent would be an irresistible turn-on under any other circumstance. However, given your state of urgent need, you craved immediate physical touch and control, no questions asked.

In a display of impatience, you threw your head back in exasperation, your own hand carelessly venturing beneath your loincloth to explore the fiery depths of your core.

"Please," you managed to utter, despite never being one to steep as low as begging. It was embarrassing, but that was genuinely the only word that managed to take shape in your mind amidst your overwhelming desires.

Lo'ak, finally sensing the critical nature of the situation, offered a hastened nod to the increasingly desperate girl before him. His heart pounded with exhilaration as his trembling fingers made short work of loosening your loincloth.

Captivated, his eyes were drawn to the now fully exposed treasure that lay between your legs.

Despite the circumstances, an undeniable blush spread across your cheeks, leaving you feeling more exposed than ever before.

With utmost care, Lo'ak gently guided your legs further apart. His fingers, like tendrils of affection, traced a delicate path around the contour of your knee and then traveled along the length of your inner thigh. Their journey didn't end until they arrived at your already glistening core. A single, adventurous fingertip glided gingerly along your lips before hesitantly prodding at your entrance. Your spine stiffened involuntarily, a sharp gasp emitting from your lips.

"Shit. Does it hurt?" Taken aback, Lo'ak's eyes widened as he witnessed your intense reaction—his reassuring self-assurance evaporated.

He immediately interpreted your pinched expression as a sign of hurt or discomfort. Alarmed, he became a living statue, daring not to move a muscle, his finger maintaining its intrusion of the slightest degree.

With an air of bewilderment, you stammered, "No, it's just so different," struggling to put your experience into words.

"Is that a bad thing?" His panicked gaze searched for your eyes.

Trying your best to control your emotions, you responded with a bit of a quiver in your voice, "No. No, it's really good. Keep going."

Lo'ak let out a shaky, relieved exhale, thankful that he wasn't causing you any discomfort. He proceeded with a short nod, allowing his finger to submerge into your eager embrace.

Your jaw went slack, eyes flickering in surprise, head tilting back as you reacted to the new, fuller sensation. The taut muscles in your abdomen quivered as you fought the urge to press yourself against him even further.

Lo'ak maintained a leisurely rhythm with his finger. A tender whimper escaped your lips as you adjusted to the near-overwhelming sensation, waves of undiscovered pleasure enveloping you, easing the fiery longing at your very core.

"Shh, you're okay, y/n," Lo'ak murmured softly, the hushed vibration of his words coursing through your entire body. A warmth flooded your face, and you quickly looked down, suddenly feeling feverish.

Seemingly unfazed, a second of Lo'ak's fingers joined the first, proceeding at their unhurried speed while your own hands struggled to find something to occupy, something to keep you grounded in reality.

You reached a hand out to grasp his shoulder–your grip probably bordering on painful–while your other hand covered your mouth in a hopeless bid to stifle the embarrassing sounds you kept unconsciously making.

"Oh, fuck." You mumbled, your hips twitching as his thumb grazed over your swollen clit.

An overwhelming wave of delight crashed over you, unlike anything you'd ever experienced. It built in the pit of your stomach, erupting into a continuous stream of moans that escaped from your lips while Lo'ak performed the entrancing move once again.

With one last deft stroke of Lo'ak's thumb, you reached the peak of your sensations. All you could do was mumble out an embarrassed string of apologies as you shattered around him, legs shaking, your entire body trembling from the sheer intensity of your second climax.

"No, you don't have to apologize. That's it, there you go." Lo'ak whispered above you, his hands securely gripping your hips. He watched you in a mixture of amazement and disbelief as you came undone on top of him.

In the aftermath of your unforeseen encounter, you and Lo'ak found yourselves sitting together in a tense, stunned silence.

Lo'ak's fingers remain deeply lodged inside your warmth, a vivid reminder of the unexpected turn your meeting had taken. While slowly regaining composure, Lo'ak's thoughts naturally drifted to his own throbbing predicament. He fervently attempted to push those intrusive musings aside, focusing all his mental strength (what little of it he had left) on anything else that might've provided a reprieve.

To distance his mind further from his own problem, Lo'ak mustered up the courage to break the otherwise heavy silence.

Clearing his throat awkwardly, he managed to ask, "How about now? Does, uh. Does it feel better?" His question, though well-intentioned, seemed to hang in the air, almost as if it were searching for a suitable landing spot.

Still catching your breath, you eventually acknowledged Lo'ak's efforts. With a meek nod and a quiet, "Yeah. Thank you," you did your part in attempting to lift the air of awkwardness that had befallen the two of you.

In response, Lo'ak merely mimicked your nod, his gaze drifting back to the delicate situation of his hand's continued connection with your lower half. A determined expression graced his face as he gently gripped your waist, carefully guiding his fingers free from your tight warmth.

The ridiculously obscene squelch of the movement caused you both to flush, despite everything you'd just done with each other.

As his fingers slid away, moistened with your slick, you were overtaken by a deep, almost primal desire to capture every last trace of yourself from his fingers. You felt absolutely unhinged.

Lo'ak, completely unaware of your internal struggle, stared at his own hand, held up between the two of you. His eyes widened in disbelief and amazement as he realized the impact his touch had on you.

Unsure of how to handle his newfound emotion, Lo'ak stealthily tried to wipe his hand on the lush grass beneath him, but your sudden vice-like grip stopped him.

Your eyes blazed with a mixture of desperation and wild abandon, yet you couldn't bring yourself to explain your overwhelming urge.

Instead, you gently guided Lo'ak's hand close to your face and took two of his soaked digits into your mouth. A soft moan escaped your lips as you savored the taste, feeling the fullness of his fingers as they filled your mouth.

You hastened your efforts in cleaning them, the graceful movement of your lips against his skin bringing you a sense of intense warmth and satisfaction as the previously overwhelming sensations within you began to subside. Finally, you released his hand, but not before planting a series of tender licks across his fingertips, ensuring that nothing remained.

As you finally met Lo'ak's eyes, you became painfully aware of the fact that you had just come on your best friend (twice).

Not only that, but you had to go and make matters even worse by practically worshiping his fingers with your mouth. The heat in your cheeks intensified as you gingerly placed Lo'ak's hand back in his lap.

With a desperate need to refocus your attention, you quickly averted your eyes from the boy to avoid being tempted by any further impulsive behavior. You busied your fingers with the painstaking task of reattaching your undone loincloth, double knotting the ties as if that would erase the memory of your exposed lower half from Lo'ak's mind.

Managing only to utter a brief "Sorry," you could sense the tension in the air. It was almost palpable.

Lo'ak, however, responded with a calming and reassuring deep voice, "You don't have to apologize."

You snorted inwardly at the thought that that was at least the third time he had said some variation of those very words to you in the last ten minutes alone.

You offered a subtle nod, unable to bring yourself to look at, speak to, or even touch your friend at that moment.

In a sudden, jerky movement, you disentangled yourself from his leg. You planted yourself on the forest floor, sitting against the same tree trunk that supported Lo'ak.

You couldn't help but glance back at his thigh, noticing the glistening evidence of your prior proximity. Your heart must have stopped beating for a good few seconds. You squeezed your eyes shut, mentally chanting a string of curses in a bid to cope with the irrepressible embarrassment that swept through your body.

The tense silence that ensued felt like an eternity, each moment stretching out painfully while the muted sounds of the Pandoran forest hummed in the background. Your mind raced, desperately trying to come up with an escape plan.

You really, really needed to leave. Like, yesterday. But you were still firmly rooted in your spot, too terrified to move even a muscle.

Then, without warning, the quiet was shattered by the violent rustling of leaves nearby. As if summoned by your wishful thinking, Neteyam appeared through the greenery. He wore an exasperated expression upon seeing you and his brother sitting together against the tree.

"Lo'ak! Dad sent you to fetch a single fish thirty minutes ago! What are you doing?!"

Neteyam's patience was wearing thin as he grabbed his brother by the arm, dragging him to his feet, his eyes probing for a reasonable explanation.

"Shit, bro. I'm sorry! I was fishing, I swear. But then I ran into y/n, and…" Lo'ak's voice trailed off, his eyes darting toward you as he recalled the events that transpired during your brief encounter. "…she just needed my help for a minute. It was really important."

Neteyam exhaled loudly in frustration, clearly annoyed at his brother's excuse. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, gathering his composure, and then fixed his glare upon Lo'ak, followed by you.

His eyes narrowed as he scrutinized you both, sporting matching blushes and attempting to maintain nonchalant expressions. Neteyam knew you two all too well; you were always getting into some kind of mischief together.

But today, he decided, he could spare you the grilling session. With an exaggerated shake of his head, he urged Lo'ak toward the direction of the creek, giving the back of his brother's head a not-so-gentle nudge as he passed by.

"A single fish," Neteyam mumbled, running a hand over his braids in disbelief as he glared at his brother.

You sensed that your chance for a getaway had finally arrived–it was now or never.

Your muscles tensed, eager to lengthen the gap between yourself and Lo'ak (or any other living being within your vicinity, for that matter). You sprung to your feet and hastily ran your fingers through your tousled hair, attempting to tame its disarray. You smoothed your top and made sure that your loincloth was properly adjusted.

"I should get going," you stammered, trying to swallow your nervousness. "I have some…um…chores I need to finish."

Both boys turned their attention toward you, with Neteyam giving you an amicable nod while donning a warm smile. Lo'ak, for his part, offered you a tender smile of his own, causing you to stifle the shy grin that threatened to conquer your entire countenance.

As you stood there, poised for your great escape, you were reminded of the delicacy and reassurance that radiated from Lo'ak just a few minutes prior.

Lo'ak, typically the embodiment of immaturity—a foolhardy best friend in the purest sense—managed to make your heart flutter with his tender warmth, nurturing you through your dire ordeal. He took care of you, offered praises and soothing words, and fuck. You wanted it again and again.

Abruptly, you snapped out of your daydream, realizing you were meandering down a dangerous tangent. You shook your head, as though physically trying to jolt your mind back into reality.

"Thanks, Lo'ak," you managed gratefully, making eye contact with him for just a bit longer than was probably necessary. "I mean it. For helping me."

Lo'ak, seemingly caught off-guard by your intense gaze, replied with a faint but earnest, "Course."

All the while, Neteyam couldn't help but furrow his brows at your peculiar exchange, very much aware of the odd dynamic between you two.

Sensing the need to move forward, Lo'ak immediately added, "Let me know if I can help you again."

Blushing at the implication, you nodded your head vigorously, fully aware that a similar scenario might very well arise in the future.

You offered a hasty wave to the two brothers before you spun around and embarked on your journey back to your home, navigating the wild landscape, distractedly ducking under low-hanging branches and batting away intrusive leaves.

There was no way you were making it through your first heat cycle alive.

Keep reading: Chapter II, Chapter III, Chapter IV