#deliciosus
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lindagoesmushrooming · 6 months ago
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Lactarius deliciosus and Lactarius torminosus
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salted15 · 9 months ago
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finally found out the reason it's been so hard to draw is because drawing on the bed is so much better than a desk . 2 me <3
(comms)
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snototter · 6 months ago
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The gills of a delicious milk cap (Lactarius deliciosus)
by marlin harms
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mycoblogg · 1 year ago
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FOTD #087 : saffron milk cap! (lactarius deliciosus)
the saffron milk cap (also red pine mushroom) is an agaric milk-cap in the family russulaceae. it occurs in portugal, bulgaria, spain, greece, italy cyprus, france, chile, australia, aotearoa, south africa & poland, but may possibly be more widespread. it often grows in association with pine trees :-)
the big question : can i bite it?? yeah !! it's edible. however - unlike the scientific name suggests - it is not very "deliciosus". it is instead quite mild or even bitter.
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l. deliciosus description :
"lactarius deliciosus has a carrot-orange cap that is convex to vase shaped, inrolled when young, 4 to 14 centimetres (1+1⁄2 to 5+1⁄2 inches) across, often with darker orange lines in the form of concentric circles. the cap is sticky & viscid when wet, but is often dry. it has crowded decurrent gills & a squat orange stipe that is often hollow, 3 to 8 cm (1 to 3 in) long & 1 to 2 cm (1⁄2 to 1 in) thick. the flesh stains a deep green colour when handled. when fresh, it exudes an orange-red latex that does not change colour."
[images : source & source] [fungus description : source]
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1800duckhotline · 11 months ago
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me and my gf are exchanging italian memes on pinterest and this is me whenever i post about my ocs tbh
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autistic-ace-bee · 1 year ago
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idirt?? /
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thememory · 2 years ago
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↳@starsinshadows (reno) gifted: Set in a shaded spot by her door is a small white box with a simple cotton string holding it closed and tied with a bow. The little paper tag reads 'Happy Birthday' in thin, angular writing with no name attached to it. Inside, well, it's not exactly a cake, but it's a little cream puff from a nice bakery.
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------SWEETS WERE THE ultimate way into her heart, in one form or another. aerith was not someone who was difficult to win over, but assuaging her with baked goods, candies, cakes ... etcetera was one surefire way to win her favor. she never expected anything for her birthday. at least, not from anyone other than elmyra - who she'd learned would absolutely do something for her birthday regardless.
perhaps she was foolish to think so fondly of the turks. after all, they were shinra affiliated ... but who was aerith to judge someone solely by their occupational allegiances? there was absolutely nothing stopping any of them from dragging her back to the company any time they stopped by - she knew they kept tabs, after all. and she did enjoy when they popped in, even if she was cheeky about it. she considered the scrawl for a moment, head canted to the side as she traced the lines of the lettering with her eyes.
tseng wouldn't leave a card. rude tended to write in all capitals, and elena had more of an outright cursive tendency. reno. powers of deduction sat aside, she pulled at the cotton string and gentle lifted the lid of the box. oh sweets. the dilemma was wanting to enjoy the gift for longer than it took to taste, chew, swallow ... but the little bit of gremlin in her had that cream puff in her mouth just moments after she had a chance to really look at it.
the delight. the flavor. the airiness. divine.
her mouth was still full when she said it aloud, " thank you, reno!~"
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ramyeonpng · 1 year ago
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delicious
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grouchydairy · 1 year ago
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DELICIOUS
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dragonfang-photography · 2 years ago
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Lactarius again, probably deliciosus this time.
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trashmouth-richie · 6 months ago
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dulcis ut rosa { sweet as a rose 🥀}
part 1 1/2– dulex (the gnat🥀) pt ii: vitiosus + deliciosus
pt iii: frangere me 🥀pt iv: ad caelum vel infernum, tecum sum
emperor Geta x female servant reader || word count: 4.4k || smidge of caracalla x reader
summary: brought to Palatine Hill as a gift from your village to the new Emperors— Caracalla claims you as his own, but Geta has his own plans for you when the moon crests into the sky.
tw: anal, p in v, rough inexperienced sex, oral m receiving, use of the word whore, caracalla is a whiny bitch, geta is fuckboy of the era. i googled a majority of the historical events, timelines, roman names for things, and latin translation— if it’s wrong, oh well. bad at feelings! geta, insane! crybaby! caracalla. idk geta is an unhinged mother fucker but what if he wasn’t so bad?
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It had been months and many cycles of the moon ago when you were sent as a token of goodwill, a gift to the new Emperors in exchange for peace for the small village you resided in. 
Other Virgines and yourself were taken in the dark ebony of twilight, shackled side by side into the wobbly wagon driven by the village's strongest oxen. You didn’t dare object, instead you held your chin high, awaiting fate as the cart swayed this way and that, heart racing and blood pulsing as your journey to the Palatine Hill began. 
Some nights were still spent awake, remembering the crippling fear in your chest as you watched women from your village being gifted to generals as their personal servants. 
Some were given to soldiers as a sense of “release.” No better than a common whore being passed from soldier to soldier, fitting their needs.  The others were pillaged and picked like grapes from a cluster— and finally you had stood alone, defiance pooling in your eyes, pushing back traitorous tears.
Emperors Geta and Caracalla sat on ruby and gold twin thrones, identical in size and power. The tension between them was palpable— so thick you could reach out and stroke its ugly head. Where Caracalla’s grin was full of mischief, Geta had a snarl curled on his upper lip. 
You should have known then. The difference between them.
From where you stood, Geta’s dark eyes looked empty. Every so often they twitched as he spun the rings adorned on his left hand. His eyes rolled when his older brother giggled as the gifts from whatever poor village gave away their ripe, untouched women. 
Bare toes standing on the marble floor— unable to even grab shoes before you were heaved into the cart— you felt a heat from dark eyes that you were certain would drive someone mad if they dared look back. Like the boiling flames from hell itself were simmering in the coal of his irises. 
Caracalla jumped up, stepping forward from his throne, a wicked sense of evilness piercing from the iciness of his stare. His golden tooth caught the sun’s rays and you nearly vomited as he strode forward, eyeing you like a meal. 
A feminine laugh bubbled from his throat,  he clasped his hands together, bangles clanking in a sick harmony, a childlike grin spread on his pale face, “she’ll do.” 
You remember the first night in his chambers. Caracalla himself was bathed in ivory, same as the stone walls that were covered with flowing draperies. Although it was meant to be beautiful, the air felt choked, tight in your chest as you tried like hell to calm your frazzled nerves. 
The same giggle you heard in the throne room all morning now reverberated off the walls. He sat on a chaise lounge in only his dressing robes, sweat dampening his temples, that same damning stare as he slid his tongue over that disgusting gold tooth. Was he nervous? Drunk?
You had thought an emperor of his caliber would be used to this sort of thing. Maybe not. 
You had been cleaned by the palace servants, hair untangled and dirt scrubbed from under your nails. Hints of jasmine and honey perfumed from your gown as you tiptoed toward him. You watched as beads of sweat trickled down his brow, and he wiped at them hastily. 
“Sit.” 
The singular word seemed to give him trouble, as if he had never been in the presence of a woman before. 
He was clumsy, unthreading your gown with clammy hands, dragging across your skin like a damp sponge. Your skin crawled under his touch. 
His lips were stained with wine, thin and shriveled as he pecked at your skin. When you reached for him, hurrying this task along, he recoiled from your hand, shaking his head, a pained expression on his face as he held your wrist in a death grip. 
His eyes squinted shut and he screamed for you to leave. “Out!” “Get out!” Chalices and gold cutlery were tossed in your direction as you sprang for the door. 
Throwing open the heavy wood and running smack into the bare chest of the other Emperor. Emperor Geta. 
Although younger, he was taller than Caracalla. His chest was more broad, shoulders stretched tight with muscles. The same death-like stare on his face as he shoved you from him, having you stumble onto the stones into a wall. The cords of his neck strained as he took in your appearance.
He didn’t soften his features as you peered up at him with a fear stricken expression. He snarled, flaring his nostrils at the pathetic look of you, practically in rags. 
“Ah, and what do we have here? My brother’s whore in tears outside his chamber door. Can’t say I'm the least bit surprised.” He leaned into you, his eyes burning into your skin as he ripped the last of your gown to the floor, leaving you naked before him. 
“Tasteful thing, aren't you?” he gloated, pinching your bare nipple between his thumb and forefinger, laughing when you yelped in surprise and tried to cover your decency. 
He crowded into you, pushing your further down the hall way until you reached a dead end, his groin pressed into your middle. 
“Pathetic.” he sneered, enunciating every syllable the word held.  “Every single one of you.” His voice slithered like a snake against your ear, his breathing was forced, almost erratic and strained like he was holding himself back from bashing your skull into the wall. 
“Brought in here like some glorious stuffed hog on a spicket, trying to impress the Emperors so your village would be overlooked..” he clicked his tongue and grabbed the nape of your neck, his mouth only an inch from your own, “I don’t miss anything. Even though my sniffling brother may, I do not.” 
“Emperor, please.” 
“Do not speak!” he shouted loud enough to wake the entire palace, the veins in his neck stood at attention, throbbing,  “a whore will never open her mouth to me unless asked, or you are given something to fill it— understood?” 
You nodded feebly, a single tear trickling down your cheek. Geta placed the tip of his tongue to your skin catching the salty wetness, “if you can not please my brother, you will please me… otherwise what good are you here?” 
He shoved you to your knees, bits of sand biting into your skin as you hit the ground with a thud. His eyes were ablaze as he pulled out his cock. Veiny and impossibly thick, you’d never imagined one to be so large.  
Geta stroked himself, already hard and velvet beneath his palm, “open for your Emperor,” he demanded, the same snarl on his lip you noticed earlier today. 
You did as you were told, tongue out mouth agape waiting for him to slide against your mouth. Forcing himself inside, he filled it full until the pink head slithered into your throat, his groans vibrating through your bones. 
He rocked his hips into your face, panting and groaning some more as you gagged on his length— spit dripping down your bare chest and down his sack. 
He spoke nonsense to himself as you tried to breathe, squinting out tears from your eyes as you peered up at him. “The virgin mouth is fuck, yes, too good… impossibly sweet, untouched by another man, fuck, never get enough.” 
His large fist gripped your hair, pulling at the root as he bludgeoned himself further into you, fucking your head into the wall surely to leave a bruise or knock you unconscious, he wouldn’t care either way. 
“Stupid sniffling Caracalla,” he choked out between thrusts, “incompetent bastard wouldn’t know what to do with a whore if one fell on his cock,” he laughed and scrubbed at his face, reaching with his free hand to press the column of your throat, feeling himself deep beneath his thumb, “lucky for you, I do.” 
He came then, loud and shaky, holding you to him until your nose was tickled by his patch of dark pubic hair. He pulled out, leaving a pearl against his slit to rub against your mouth. 
“You might belong to Caracalla, but you will bow to me, and you… my sweet rosa, I have plans for you.” 
And that was how it started, how every night you would meet with Caracalla only to be summoned by Geta in the corridor upon your dismissal. Spilling secrets of his brother before pleasuring him with your mouth. 
In the light of day, you were ignored by him as you catered to Caracalla’s beck and call, and you often wondered if Geta had another servant he preferred during the sunlight hours. 
You were a midnight affair, a servant to one Emperor, a secret to the other. Caracalla was a strange man. Your time with him mostly was spent with him whining about the day's woes. 
How hard it was to be an emperor, the many expectations he had, the palace wasn’t large enough, his brother was too mean. Night by night his paranoia spread like wildfire, and he became gaunt, refusing to eat thinking Geta poisoned his food, his cheeks began to hallow. 
During all those nights he never once gave in to his own sexual temptations, he laid his head in your lap like an infant, whimpering and sniveling. One particular warm night you were sitting on his bed as you did every night before, listening to him sob about his mother and how he felt her attention was elsewhere. 
It took a single second of you being unresponsive for his switch to flip. Caracalla raged, flipping over furniture, ripping his draperies from the walls and pulling at his own hair. You were terrified, scared of him for the first time since the night you came to the palace. 
Caracalla bound your wrists above your head, and took force between your legs as you silently let him, disassociating from the entire situation, as he kissed a bruise to your collarbone, and scratched your thighs with his bitten fingernails. His inexperience was evident in his approach, in the way his hips held no rhythm, in the way he screeched like a midnight owl when he was close to release. 
He repeated the same thing over and over until he spilled against your stomach, a plea to either himself or to the Gods above, I am worthy. 
You shook violently, not with pleasure but with fear. You had thought of spitting in his face, but realized death would be your only future if you were to humiliate him during this catastrophic performance of what he would assume to be lust. 
Caracalla finished with a sweaty brow, laying down to fall asleep like a babe, an arm wrapped around your middle. A gaudy rouge colored his pale cheeks as drool slipped from his lips. 
You felt sick, defiled and disgusting. 
You’d rather be fucked by thirty men at once than have to endure that pathetic, cry baby fit from Caracalla. Gently placing his arm on the pillow, you fled. 
Missing your village, your family, the man who you were supposed to marry someday, your tears clouded your vision down the winding corridors of the palace. You would have fought to stay behind, should have pleaded to the men that you could be useful to them. This whore’s life isn’t what you had bargained for, death would be swifter— easier than this. 
The sweet scent of the balneum made you take a detour to the right, and you sobbed upon seeing the moonlight glint across the soft bathing water. 
Desperate to scrub his filth from your skin, the water was barely warm but you couldn’t care less as you sunk deep into the marble stone basin. Scrubbing your skin with anything your fingers could get ahold of. The jasmine soaps the servants washed you with the first time was tucked into its cradle and you slathered until your skin shined like an apparition. 
Tears dropped from the apples of your cheeks hitting the massive pool like a rainstorm over the ocean. Caracalla was a coward, a nuisance to Rome, to the Gods themselves. You damned his name as you scrubbed and lathered, repeating feverishly. 
For how long Geta stood in the doorway, you weren’t sure. You weren’t where you should have been, and he was irate upon your absolute disrespect of his time. He wanted to shout, plunge his way into the water and drag you out by your hair, bring you to the coliseum and make everyone watch your death against whatever animal he saw fit. 
You broke his rules, his laws, his heart raced with anger at the sight of you casually washing yourself. Nobody in the palace bathed in the moonlight, and when he heard commotion from the tepidarium room, he stomped towards it to find whoever the culprit was idiotic enough to disobey. He was alarmed to find you in there. Frantic, shooken up, no doubt from the hands of his flaccid brother.
“The lamb strayed away from the flock, I see.” his voice was like a snake, cool and calm but dripping with acidity that could kill at any given time. Jumping at his voice you nearly shrieked at his sudden appearance. 
“The moon has passed the mountains, yet you do not seek me out? Instead I find you here, helping yourself to the royal bathing quarters, as if you deserve such luxuries.”
Your voice trembled, as you climbed from the water, “I wanted… I needed to be clean.” 
His eyebrows twisted inward, confusion riddling his features until he stepped further into the room and noticed the marks across your skin. Caracalla’s mark. The marks of an hungry, untrained runt, trying to prove himself to the litter. 
Geta’s face boiled with sadistic rage as his eyes scanned down your body, the scratches of an novice beast unable to pleasure a whore. Bruises from a limp man who deserved a knife to his throat.
“Come.” he demanded, not waiting for you to follow as his stalked from the room, tossing a long cloth behind him to your awaiting hands. 
Water trickled behind you and down the length of your body as you padded on bare feet to catch up with Geta. 
This part of the palace was foreign to you, a set of stairs leading to a dark tower that you didn’t know existed, and then you realized why. He was leading you up to his chambers.
Geta and Caracalla lived on opposite ends of the palace, their hatred splitting them apart as far as it could allow. 
He thrust open a concealed door and stomped down a few stone stairs leading into his chamber. 
It was decorated in hues of deep ruby and scarlets, black linens flanked his walls. His bed was massive, alluring in the dark majesty of its presence. A single candle flickered beside his bed, casting shadows in the deep night. 
His hooded eyes seemed to strike with a ripple of psychotic light when he came back to the doorway to pull you inside by your wrist. 
Sitting on a lavish wooden chair he leans back, spreading his legs wide, reaching for a wine filled chalice downing it in one gulp, his eyes never leaving you. 
“Let me make myself clear,” he stated, “I do not care what Caracalla does in his chambers I never have nor will I now.” 
Geta wiped at his chin and set down the glass, his finger rounding the rim, “You came here knowing what your life would hold as an Emperor’s servant or a soldier’s fuck sack. The little amount of freedom you were once born with has vanished, and what a pity that must be…but quite honestly,” he gleamed leaning forward his face warmed by the light, casting shadows of evil on his brows, “I am not a savior to the fucked raw whores of this palace who weep after fulfilling their master’s needs.”
Your eyes casted downward at the patterned marble floor. “I told you the night we met that if you aren’t pleasing my brother or myself, you have no purpose here, did I not?” 
Your head shook up and down, knowing every word he said was true. 
“I will grant you gratitude where it is due by saying that you have done everything I have asked of you, sharing my brother’s secrets, using your mouth to fill my needs— it is all very pleasing…”
For the first time you look into Geta’s eyes, the shadows inside flicker with the candle light, and you are drawn to them like a moth. 
“��� however, I find myself enraged thinking of that shriveled weasel dick not taking you to bed in a proper manner. It is not my style to fuck like a lover would—I use women to my needs and that’s it.” 
He rubs his jaw, as if the stubble was itching him, suddenly stopping to look at you dead in the eyes as his narrowed to slits, “but you, are a gnat. An annoyance I can not seem to get rid of, and I can’t decide if you are a woman version of the plague or something else…” His eyes glimmer for a second before he shakes his head to clear his mind, “Get on the bed.” 
“Emperor?” 
His voice boomed as he slammed down his cup, “do not make me say it twice, I find myself to be quite angry when I have to repeat my words.” His throat pulsed in wrath, and his knuckles turned white from his fists being clenched. 
You do as you're told, gingerly making your way to the enormous frame and mattress, sitting rigidly. Geta undresses himself, standing bare before you, that glorious length springing freely. 
“The difference between Caracalla and myself, is I know how to use my God bless-ed cock to pleasure a woman, and I’m damn good at it.” 
He’s on you in a flash, his breath sweet from the wine he had consumed. His body was solid on top of yours, pale skin never exposed to the sun. Enormous shoulders dressed in muscles that were hidden with robes daily. He sniffs loud, taking in your scent you feel his body shiver above you. 
His teeth nip at your earlobe, piercing through the flesh releasing a trail of hot blood onto your neck. It’s swiftly lapped away by his tongue, a low groan following as he tastes you. 
“If your blood is this sweet I would hate to know how you taste between your legs.” 
You squirm beneath him as he bites your lip the same way, his canines piercing your plushy flesh and he moves his mouth over the bites, enjoying the iron-like taste. A flood of wetness rushes to your core and you suddenly feel hot everywhere… something Geta doesn’t miss. 
“My brother’s whore is quick to becoming wet.” he says with a chuckle, sweeping his fingers between your folds, his rings collecting your arousal on his knuckles before he pulls them into his mouth,  “mmmm leave it to Caracalla to fuck a bitch when she’s drier than a well.” 
His mouth assaults your neck. Sweeping circling as he groans into you, his cock rutting against your sex as you pull him further into you, a hand coiled in his golden hair, yanking slightly, a traitorous moan escaping his lips. 
Your hips widen to try to sneak the tip of him into your cunt but he only laughs at your attempt.
“Look how desperate you are, pathetic thing… so eager to be filled by a man who knows how to fuck.” He groans when your nails scratch down his back, and he licks his lip to not get too carried away. 
That pitiful excuse for a human couldn’t satisfy his own hand, let alone a whore who begs to be brutalized.” You moan his name when he skims blunt nails around the peaks of your nipples, running his palms along your rib cage. 
“You're teasing me, Emperor, te necessito.” 
The snarl that seems to be a permanent fixture on his face curls on his lip, “begging is a good start, we both know how good you are on your knees, but I like the pity showing in your eyes, as if I’m your God.”
With that final word and title, Geta thrust himself into you, shredding your walls with each delicious inch of his cock buried inside of you. All breath is expunged from your lungs as you stare into the devil’s eyes, a chokehold to your own.
“Ora pro me, Deus meus, pray for me God,” he grunted as he pistoned back into your heat. Your screams filled his chambers, the tower shaking with seduction as he matched your shouts with grunts and moans of his own. 
He pawed at your tits, squeezing and claiming every inch of skin he could get his hands on. Your thighs were wrapped around his waist, your hips circling to meet his rhythms. A large hand wrapped tight around your throat, and you licked your lips letting a grin spread against them. 
Geta was leaned forward just enough for you to put a hand against his own throat, squeezing as tightly as you could. He wasn’t expecting this, wasn’t expecting someone to match his own sadistic fantasies.. let alone a commoner from a village he didn’t care to know the name of. 
His eyes embellished like a dark jewel in a burning hell before he snarled and backhanded your cheek. He had never been more turned on, practically fucking you stupid as the welts from his rings raised on your skin. 
“Puella pulchra, pretty girl,” Geta whispered into your ear after flipping you over, his cock wedged between your ass cheeks. “Mea es, mea es, you’re mine;  no one else’s.” 
His rings bit at your sides as he positioned your ass upwards, leaving his dental records in each cheek before slapping them hard in unison, mocking your yelp as he dribbled spit where he needed it to be. 
With no warning he entered your other hole at a bruising pace. You saw black when Geta bottomed out and you swore you were near passing out from the stretch of his giant cock stuffed tight inside of you. 
Your pussy throbbed to his commands as he pulled you by your neck with one hand, so your back was leaned against his chest. Thick fingers slotted themselves in the heat of your core until his rings were nestled against your clit. “How dare you let Caracalla have at you first, this cunt is too sweet, too sinful to not be mine.” 
Babbling along to everything he said you simply screamed yes over and over, as your head lolled back on his shoulder. You came so hot and bound tight that it flooded his fingers and spread down your legs as he kept pounding inside of you. 
“Oh fuck,” Geta grunted, shoving your forward to gain leverage on your hips as he pistoned into you a final time. A great yell breached his throat as his seed flooded your ass, filling it full and spilling over both himself and you, down to the laundered sheets. 
You collapsed onto his bed, legs shaking and quaking struggling to catch your breath. Geta fell onto his back beside you, his skin glistening with sweat, his release coated thickly on his softening cock and pasted into the curly hair. 
“Dulcis ut rosa,” he murmured with his eyes closed, licking his lips to savor your taste once more. 
Tumbling on shaky knees, you lift yourself up just enough to eye his length, wrapping your mouth around his cock, sucking off his spend and yourself from him. Moaning as you devoured him.  
He hissed at the contact, reaching out to stroke your cheek with his thumb “you’ve made a fool of me, you wicked thing, I’m nothing but a fool.” 
When you were finished, Geta laid in silence beside you. His thumb strumming along his torso his eyes wide staring into the ceiling, deep in thought. 
Noticing a decanter of wine you asked if he’d like another glass. “No,” he said, still staring upward, unable to look at you. “I’m tired, leave me now.” 
Removing yourself from the bed you find the dressing robe he was wearing when he found you in the bath and slipped it over your shoulders. 
Leaving his chambers left you feeling rotten. 
It was strange how he looked at you during and after, he was talented just as he said he was, and you knew you’d never forget the night the other Emperor bed you in his sheets. For tomorrow was another day, back to Caracalla and his blubbering whines of the hardships of royalty.
Geta lie awake for hours. Eventually seeking refuge on his balcony staring into the pale ivory moon, silently asking the Gods for answers he himself didn’t know. He had bedded hundreds of women. Every shape, size and color. But you. The little gnat. You had been buzzing in his ears every night since you had gotten to Palatine Hill. 
Since the day he laid his eyes on you and scoffed to try to denounce his admiration, Geta silently wished death on Caracalla when he claimed you as his own. His original plan was to spoil the apple from the inside out, use you as a spy to gain information about his deranged brother— but it became more to him, you became more. But why? 
The God’s didn’t have the answers tonight, just like they hadn’t the night before, or every dawn since the night you showed up here. Guilt struck him like a bolt from Jupiter’s mighty hand and he pushed it down with the remaining wine he had stashed beside his bed. 
The facaded mask he wore these days almost slipped off tonight when you lay beside him. How he wanted to reach out and touch your skin while you laid in euphoric bliss. And he shut you out to avoid something he couldn’t risk. He didn’t know how to love a woman, his love was for war and power, blood and gold— still the gnat buzzed, unrelentless. 
Laying in the sex sodden sheets, he knew what his dream would be of tonight. It hadn’t changed in the months of you arriving here: Caracalla dead by his hand, and you, the gnat, sweet as a rose…his empress.
🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀
latin translation:
virgines— virgins
dulcis ut rosa— sweet as a rose
balneum— bathing room
te necessito— i need you
ora pro me deus meus— pray for me my God
puella pulchra— pretty girl
mea es— you’re mine
tagging some moots: @joejoequinnquinn @choke-me-eddie @etherealxwitch
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inf3ct3dd · 1 year ago
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streamer!ellie headcanons
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warnings: yo no se
content : streamer!ellie headcanons 🔥🔥
authors note : the streets r calling and they’re telling me to write streamer ellie hcs….
- def started off as a faceless streamer. she wasn’t really comfortable on camera, and she just thought it would be way easier. you can only see her shoulders-down leaving her (deliciosu. scrumptious. yummy) arms in the cameras view.
- her twitch user is “creeperewman” cuz shes like…discreetly hiding her initials and referencing the best minecraft parody ever 😕!!!
- bought the most random shitty mic and webcam and started streaming 🔥🔥 she never got rid of either of them its part of her odd loser charm
“‘fartmaster69:it’s probably cuz your camera’ it’s probably bc of YOUR CAMERA!!! theres nothing wrong w my camera bro 😞”
“don’t listen to them…ur perfect 🤫 IM NOT TALKING TO U GUYS IM TALKING TO MY CAMERA”
- only had a few viewers the first couple times she streamed, and it was some random 10 yr old who kept spamming “yassss” in the chat and some dude who said she was shit at minecraft 😞 he was LYING
- started off doing minecraft speed runs (or trying to) and got like way good over time
- she randomly started getting more and more viewers, because people kept posting abt her and calling her fine on tiktok , making edits of her hands and her voice 😭😭 (real)
- as she got more and more viewers, she started branching out more with the games she’d play. def loves shooter games like cod and pubg, but she’d also play like indie horror games like faith (omg markiplier fans would know)
- she has a orange cat she named garfield (cuz…of course she does) and he’s always sitting on her lap during her streams or messing w her setup 💔💔
- def put stickers all over her headset and showed them off all proud on stream
- designed her own cute banners and stuff for streams 😞!!!
- def had a subreddit/disc server with her viewers where she’d let them give her game recs or make memes of her
- ppl saw her guitar in the back of her streams and BEGGED HER to play it and she had her own lil concert stream !!! she was so freaking nervous and messed up a bunch the first like minute or two but like after that she was in the ZONE
“‘ewswife: i wish i was that guitar’ oh!! you guys are so…kind!!!”
- when she INSANELY hit 1k, she did a face reveal and she hit 10k the same day 😦 the amount of edits that ppl made was actually insane. ESP ONES MAKING FUN OF DREAMS FACE REVEALLLL
- started doing much more random shit on stream after she got more famous. she LOVES cooking on stream, and she’d start reacting to random shit ppl sent her on the subreddit
- she cut her hair on stream once, and everyone in the chat kept spamming “yo bob…is fye” for like 5 minutes 😪
- “you’re at work watching me? i hope you get fired. i mean. i hope you don’t get fired 😞”
- she gets so many thirst comments and like…is terrible at responding to them
“‘ewleftbicep: you look so vulnerable today’ WHAT”
- she has her own apartment cuz of her awesome streaming money 🔥🔥🔥 soundproofed walls too cuz she’s. loud.
- one day, you were walking on campus to a class. you had your headphones on, listening to your main playlist on shuffle, when you got stopped by someone. you pulled your headphones off your ears and gave the man in front of you a confused look. you looked down to his hands, holding a tiny mic, and another dude holding a camera.
“what song are you listening to?” he held the microphone towards you, awaiting your response.
you quickly responded “uhm, last goodbye, by jeff buckley.” and stood there awkwardly, pushing a piece of hair out of your face.
the man quickly thanked you and you walked away, slightly suprised.
- after a couple hours, the video had blown up and the comments were filled with people complimenting you.
pickleluna: jeff buckley girl is so fine
minyonlala: 3rd girl is so bad
rilakkila: I NEED JEFF BUCKLEY GIRL
and unknown to you, someone else found you on their fyp.
creeperewman: guys what is the 3rd girls @. im literally BEGGING BRO PLEASEEE
- ewleftbicep: BEING DESPERATE ON MAIN IS CRAZY
- ewsgirlf: random tiktok girl stole my wife 💔
- elliewilliamsidechick: guys im literally the 3rd girl 😂😂😂
- it didn’t take long for your phone to be blown up with people sending you the video, tagging you in funny comments, and finding your instagram. you watched the video, and saw ellie was the top comment. you checked her profile, and saw how FINE she was, and immediately responded
- y/nmainn: guys 😳😳😳 what if i was the third girl 😳😳
- ellie checked her phone and saw thousands of people tagging your comment, and she wasted zero time following you on tiktok. and your instagram. its not stalking if its in your bio, right?
- you two immediately hit it off, and ellie loved the fact that you had absolutely no idea who she was. to you, she was just some hot girl. not some famous streamer you were obsessed with.
- she didn’t even realize you two went to the same school until she saw you in her astrophysics class one day, and she almost had a heart attack when you waved at her and walked over to sit next to her.
“what a coincidence.”
- she took you out on your first date to a planetarium, and not even a week after, asked you to be her girlfriend.
- she definitely teaches you how to play her favorite games. but she gets wayyyy defensive when you beat her.
“im just letting you win.”
“beginners luck.”
but shes SO COCKY when she beats you
“hey, don’t be so hard on yourself after this. not your fault im a professional!”
“aw, maybe one day you’ll be as good as me”
- definitely helps you build your own pc.
- loves watching you play things like animal crossing or stardew valley, always lays on your shoulder while you’re on the couch.
“why are you being so mean to gaston :((“
“because hes UGLY and he has an ugly house and he’s ruining my village.”
“wowww you’re bullying a little bunny man because he doesn’t fit your aesthetic 😒 so mean”
- if you like more aggressive games like cod, she loves listening to you talk shit while you play and always makes fun of people with you. (she thinks its hot when you’re mean to people)
- her chat absolutely loves you, and every time you stream together its a continuous stream of “me and who” and “when is it my turn 😪”
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originalwinnerfanfish · 4 months ago
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Okay, I'm joining your trend, guys, it's too cool)
Lactarius Deliciosus or Saffron Milkcup - my most favourite mushroom🧡
Beautiful, tasty, crunchy - this is what lizards think about when they see Saffron. No one knows exactly what kind of slugcat he is, but for some reason he attracts more predators than any other ones. Bad for him on one hand, but good for everyone else on the other. That’s why he is always ready to take the hit and lead the danger as far away from colony as possible. Even if it means he might need to be saved afterwards😅
He didn’t have any sort of special abilities or poisons like many other slugshrooms. So he can only rely on his strength and agility. And after years of training, he really became a good guard, although his work still sometimes leaves scars on his body
Saffron also loves to cook and even has his own secret recipes. With secret ingredient… Very special ingredient…
Yeah, he uses his milk sweat for cooking. It gives dishes a richer, sweet and spicy flavor and, as he believes, makes the dishes much tastier. But, for some reason, other slugcats didn't really appreciate his idea, and now he is not allowed to cook for everyone
However, Saffron continues to cook for himself and create new recipes. In a portable pot made from a snail shell, he always carries some of his signature soup, which he is ready to share with tired and lost travelers)))
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useless-catalanfacts · 3 months ago
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Video by lasofregida on Instagram with subtitles by me.
I don't know how it is in your countries, but here it's very popular to go hunt mushrooms in autumn.
There are many different kinds of mushrooms and many ways to cook them. But if you wish you could still enjoy them after the season ends, here's how to preserve them.
This recipe uses the saffron milk cap, also called red pine mushroom (Lactarius deliciosus), which is one of the commonly used mushrooms in Catalan cuisine. You can also follow this same recipe with pinkmottle woodwax, also called false russula or russula-like waxy cap (Hygrophorus russula).
(Translating the names of mushrooms is tricky. If you want to know which mushroom that is in your language other than English, you can look them up on the English Wikipedia and from there change the page language to yours.)
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grassiestars · 4 months ago
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OH MY GOD HES SO BEAUTIFUL MY CHILD I LOVE HIM SO MUCH GRGEBNBEVHFBEBGDBFBDBFBF
i have no idea if i already gave you a req but like. rockstar..... band...... bassist toya.........
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it may have taken me like a month to get to and to finish but here he is, Leo/Need are outa commission for a bit and Saki needs practice so shes brought in her two idiot brothers to play instead
i had another drawing that was meant to go with this but i don't have the time to finish it. so maybe I'll revisit him one day
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bonus sketch drawing i may or may not go back to, id rly like to finish it but for some reason its kicking my ass so im gonna like. do smth else but you can have it for now :)
anyway byeeeee
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adalidposts · 11 months ago
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Here are the characters you requested! Bill Williamson and Sadie Adler
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The Lactarius deliciosus is known for its resilience and ability to thrive in a variety of environmental conditions. Similarly, Sadie also demonstrates a remarkable ability to adapt and survive in a world full of dangers and challenges. Together, the saffron milk cap mushroom can be an apt representation of Sadie Adler's strength, versatility, and adaptability as a character.
The Calvatia gigantea, much like Bill Williamson, possesses an imposing and dominant presence. Its size and appearance can be intimidating, reflecting Bill's powerful and sometimes daunting nature within the Van der Linde gang.
Let me know which other one you would like to see!
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