#god it was a sensory delight

[dicketysplit]

I took my sister to a local mushroom installation and it was sick

[generalsmemories]

The general's hair

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ based on the ask: "If requests are open, can I request Reader tugging Jing Yuan's hair to keep him from dozing or just wanted him to pay attention? You can choose the "severity" of the tug =DD" requested by anonymous

✧ content: established relationship, fluff, suggestive scenes (not nsfw, but you can tell it's hinting at it lmfao), humor, mentions of other characters

✧ a/n: dear lord we almost hit 500 jing yuan lovers. as he deserves, truly. thank you all for liking my two works so far!! here's another one while i still work on the lenghty angst fic of mine hehe. p.s please don't question my titles, i am very much terrible at them-

One of Jing Yuan's striking features is his voluminous hair that adorns his head like a lion's mane. Tied into a high half ponytail while the rest of his locks flow freely down to his shoulders. It's eye catching for sure, with a red ribbon securing the ponytail in place, it's hard to not turn one's head when he takes a walk outside of the divine seat to escape his duties. 

You're well aware of how tempting his hair is to touch everyone. It's the one thing you always reach for whenever you're bored after all.

The first thing you always do whenever he's fresh out of a shower is brush it out while running your fingers through it, or make sure every drop of soap reaches every strand when you take a bath together. A pastime activity Jing Yuan adores doing with you, almost sounding like he's purring in delight whenever you take some extra time to massage his scalp while you wash his hair.

It's also the first thing you would always grab onto to ground yourself when Jing Yuan wants to show his love for you more intimately and passionately. Your primary instinct to pull his strands while trying to get him so much closer to you, a breathless plea for him leaving your lips every now and then. Your husband takes great pleasure from this, merely chuckling while leaning down to press his lips to your ears. Gently telling you to breathe while pressing himself closer to your own sweaty body. During these moments his hair cascades down the side of his face, making him seem a lot more ethereal than usual. And while you can hardly breathe from the sensory overload you always somehow manage to slide your fingers from his lips to thread through his hair with a wry smile, whispering how beautiful he is.

His hair has unfortunately for him recently become the thing you have pulled whenever you notice him start to doze around whether that be in meetings or in general. It was initially something you had done out of desperation since no matter how many times you told him to listen, your husband would already nod off a few minutes after promising you that he wouldn't. Whenever you had complained he has joked that your voice was too soothing to listen to regarding reports that he could fall asleep to it.

So you tried to let one of the cloud knights or Qingzu deliver the reports to thwart that, but then he would downright not pay any attention at all. Which would make some meetings run longer than normal.

God forbid if Fu Xuan even tried to attempt to deliver a report, lest she wanted to get poked fun at or have more people fall asleep other than the general.

So while you were trying yet again to give a report for the general, you were suddenly struck with the memory of one of the many nights you had spent together. The nights where the general would look so much more awake whenever you pulled at his hair from desperation.

… Hey if it worked there, it should have some sort of effect now too, right?

So without looking too suspicious, you went behind the seat. When you passed Jing Yuan's laid back form, your available hand that was not holding the papers reached out to the same high ponytail you had just tied a few hours before and pulled with enough strength that made his head jerk away from his resting hand.

A surprised moan suddenly rang out throughout the Divine Foresight.

And you thanked the Aeons that the only ones present at that moment were the same guards stationed at the very entrance and Qingzu, who only gave you a deadpanned look.

But when Jing Yuan turned to look at you, more awake than he had ever been in any morning and eyes filled with confusion, you were sure you had hit the jackpot to make every meeting go faster. 

Good news for you and everyone else, not so good news for Jing Yuan though.

“The second matter of the day is the replacement of the newly appointed Cloud Knights who will be transferred to the Luofu from another fleet…”

“Ouch- Dear, pull my hair any harsher than that and I’m afraid you won’t have any strands to brush out in the near future,” Jing Yuan whines when your hand lets go of his high ponytail when he has successfully sobered up from his nth impromptu nap of the day.

You merely glance over at him with a raised eyebrow before walking away, “General, please be aware that you have a meeting with Lady Fu Xuan in a couple of minutes and these are just the briefings of what she will tell you personally,” you respond back, Jing Yuan letting out a huff as he leans back into his seat, rubbing the spot you had just pulled a few minutes ago with knitted eyebrows.

“... Let alone something to grab later tonight-”

“Jing Yuan.”

[literatureloverx]

You seem to have an amazing understanding of Fyodors character. It's like you crawled into his head. What do you think his kinks/turn ons would be?

I’m giggling and blushing rn.♥️ You’re so sweet!!! Truly, this is such a huge compliment.♥️ I hope you enjoy it!

Mdni, yandere!Fyodor, dom!Fyodor, sub!reader, ideal type fem!reader.

Fyodor’s kinks / turn-ons

About you:

Fyodor would be captivated by the sight of you in a vulnerable position, as it would quicken his heartbeat and heighten your already striking beauty.

Anything that enhances your aesthetic allure is a source of intense arousal for him.

He is especially drawn to your teary eyes and the way you cry out when he pushes your limits.

Your soft mewls and moans are the most exquisite sounds he's ever heard in his seemingly endless life.

He has a particular fascination with your neck and finds profound excitement in watching you squirm beneath him.

The sight of his marks on your skin deeply arouses him, as they are a testament to his control and the art of his dominance.

About the act itself:

Control and Power Dynamics:

Fyodor thrives on absolute control (I say this all the time and I’ll say it again: he is a man of God, and he is a man of control.)

His pleasure stems from orchestrating every detail of your experience, from the moment he binds you with intricate precision to the way he manipulates your responses.

Seeing you completely at his mercy, restrained and helpless, fuels his dominance.

He commands your entire existence in those moments, and you, his willing captive, offer yourself entirely to his control.

Psychological Manipulation

Fyodor's dominion extends far beyond the physical. His keen intellect allows him to master the art of psychological manipulation, turning every encounter into a mind game.

He delights in exploring your deepest fears and desires, using this understanding to heighten your submission.

He prolongs your pleasure, making you beg for release, and in doing so, he asserts his power over both your body and mind.

Your vulnerability and dependence on him are what he truly cherishes.

Sensory Deprivation and Overstimulation

Fyodor expertly manipulates your sensory experiences to enhance his control.

When he uses blindfolds or gags, he heightens your other senses, making every touch, whisper, and command feel more intense.

Conversely, he may overload you with stimulation, driving you to the brink of ecstasy and frustration.

This skillful play with your senses magnifies his dominance, ensuring that every moment is a testament to his power over your pleasure and pain.

Marks and Branding

For Fyodor, marking you is both an art and a statement. He takes immense satisfaction in leaving his marks on your skin-bruises, bite marks, scratches—each one a physical symbol of his ownership.

These marks are not just about inflicting pain; they serve as a permanent reminder of his dominance, a visible declaration of his claim over you.

He revels in the sight of his handiwork, knowing that you bear the marks of his control. That you’re so utterly his.

Intellectual Domination

He takes pleasure in engaging you in deep, philosophical discussions, using his intellectual superiority to reinforce his control.

They deepen your connection and emphasize his role as the superior partner, both mentally and physically.

I dare say that it arouses him.♥️

Corruption of Innocence:

Fyodor is captivated by the idea of corrupting your purity, but only because he is the one corrupting it.

He cherishes innocence and purity, seeing them as embodiments of art and beauty.

To him, molding you to his will by corrupting your purity is probably intensely arousing.

Your purity becomes a canvas for his control, and the process of corrupting it is a source of immense satisfaction.

High Emotional Stakes:

He revels in the vulnerability and desperation that come with high-stakes encounters. The more emotionally charged the experience, the more satisfying it is for him.

That is, because he loves you so much. His love is twisted and deep, but it is sincere.

He finds fulfillment in pushing you to your limits, in witnessing your raw, unfiltered responses to his dominance.

Detailed Preparation and Rituals:

Fyodor's meticulous nature shines through in his sexual rituals.

He invests time and effort into preparing elaborate scenarios that align with his vision of control.

Every detail is meticulously planned to ensure that the encounter fulfills his desire for dominance and precision, as well as your pleasure.

[quintessenceofdust88]

Bucktommy FluffFebruary - Day 1

Today is the first day of @bucktommyfluffebruary and I'm so excited to join! I'm not sure how many prompts I'll be able to do, but I definitely want to do at least one per week! Anyway I hope you enjoy this one!

Day 1: Non-Sexual Intimacy

bucktommy | rating G | words: 714 | minor tw: migraine

DAY 1: NON-SEXUAL INTIMACY

The bathroom is dimly lit and silent, the only sound is the soft sloshing of the water on the bathtub. Buck enters as quietly as possible, closing the door softly behind himself and looking at Tommy with a small smile on his lips.

His fiancé has his head on the bath pillow Buck's gotten him a few weeks before, his eyes closed in delight. 

Tommy doesn't get migraines very often, but when he does, they're bad. When they started dating, he'd find excuses to keep Buck at bay when they hit and ride them out alone.

But after the one Buck came to surprise him and found Tommy lying on the bathroom floor, in too much pain to even get himself in bed, he'd decided enough was enough. 

“I wanna help you when you're not feeling well, Tommy” He had told him, and Tommy, for once, had believed him.

Now, if Tommy feels a crisis approaching, he'll text Buck, and Buck will be over as soon as he can to help him.

This time, he's doing something Bobby told him that helps with Athena's headache. He prepared Tommy a warm bath in a candlelit bathroom with no sounds, trying to lower his sensory input as much as possible.

After fifteen minutes, he comes back. The flickering flame of the candle brings an eerie glow to Tommy's sculpted face, and Buck's heart skips a beat. God, his boyfriend is so handsome.

“Feeling better, babe?” Buck whispers, and Tommy opens his eyes just a slit, smiling softly at him.

“Yeah, sweetheart. Thank you” He whispers back, and his voice doesn't sound as strained anymore, which makes Buck sigh in relief.

“That’s good. But don't thank me yet, the best part is coming now” He says, and Tommy smirks at him, his eyes closed.

“Hmm, I'm afraid you're gonna have to do all the work, I'm not all that better yet”

Buck huffs at him, nudging his bare shoulder, and Tommy chuckles softly. 

“No, it's not that” Buck clarifies. He positions himself behind Tommy, sitting on a stool. “I’m gonna try something that’s supposed to help, let me know if it does, ok?”

Tommy just hums in agreement, and Buck takes it as his cue to go on. As gently as possible, he places his fingertips over Tommy’s hair, feeling his soft curls between his fingers. Then, he presses just slightly, and his boyfriend lets out a groan. Buck withdraws in an instant. 

“Did it hurt?” He asked, and Tommy opens his eyes, looking at him. 

“No!” Tommy clarifies, and taking Buck’s hand in his wet one, gives it a small kiss and places it back on top of his head. “It… It felt really good.”

“Well, I’m glad then.” He tells him, pressing a gentle kiss to Tommy’s forehead. 

“Can you… can you continue doing it?” He asks, almost shyly, and Buck is ridiculously endeared.

It does something to his heart, knowing how strong and closed off Tommy is, to see him being so shy and vulnerable around Buck. It makes him feel like Tommy trusts him, and it’s such a good feeling. Buck likes to be the one Tommy relies on. 

“‘Course I can, babe.” Buck says, and gently starts stroking Tommy’s hair. 

He keeps the massage light and slow, making sure to press on the areas Bobby said he should: the back of Tommy’s neck, the base of his skull, and his temples. Tommy keeps his eyes closed, occasionally humming or groaning pleasantly when Buck hits a particularly sensitive spot. Other than that, though, they remain silent. It amazes Buck, because he’s never been good at comfortable silence, but with Tommy he’s able to enjoy it.  

They stay like that for a little longer, and the water must start to lose its warmth, because Buck can see a few goosebumps on Tommy’s arm. His boyfriend is so relaxed that he doesn’t seem to notice, so Buck presses a gentle kiss to his cheek. 

“C’mon, sweetheart, let’s get you dressed and in bed.” Buck suggests, and Tommy nods at him.

Before leaving the water, though, he takes Buck’s hand in his once again, and gives him that scrunchy smile Buck loves so much. 

“Thank you, Evan. For taking care of me.”

[chiaraanatra]

Intoxicating

∘₊✧────✧₊∘ ! 18+ MINORS DNI ! ∘₊✧───✧₊∘

Summary: Anakin just cant help himself.

Warnings: SMUT, dom!reader, sub!ani, mentions of male masturbation, panties (stealing, sniffing, used as gag), mild somno (kinda?[he steals your panties while your asleep]), hand job, mentions of fingering(f), overstimulation(m), orgasm control(?), scent kink(?), pet names (reader calls Ani baby, puppy & sweetheart). IDK what to tell you, Ani and reader are little perverts! No use of Y/N. (Let me know if I missed anything.)

Word Count: 1.2k

AN: Think of this as a belated May 4th gift! Apparently I think any character played by Hayden is just a panty thief. I'm not sorry. Thank you to my wonderful boyfriend for being the inspiration for this! Jay, your dirty dreams are truly an inspiration!

《 m.list || ao3 》

At what point do I just accept that sleep isn't going to happen...?

Anakin woke up next to you hard as a rock with a sheen of sweat covering his body. He wanted to just go back to sleep, he really did, but the only thought on his mind was how desperate he was to cum. How he needed to cum.

He tried to be discreet, palming himself through his boxers in an attempt to ease the harsh ache he felt while trying not to wake you. His eyes followed the streams of light coming through the curtains as they illuminated your peaceful form sleeping quietly next to him.

As if on cue, your body shifted and the sheets that once covered you now left you exposed. Anakin couldn't help but stare as the only thing covering you was a pair of cute cotton panties.

Of course, the thought crossed his mind. Maybe I could just... "Fuck..." He shook his head trying to shake the idea from his head. Little good that did.

Before he could register his movements, he slowly made his way closer to you. He didn't want to wake you just to appease his own perversions, but they were right there, squeezed against your plush hips, and he knew that your scent would send him straight over the edge.

He started to slowly ease the tight fabric off your body. He groaned when he noticed the patch of wetness left behind by your weeping pussy, the sight only causing his lust and need to grow. He continued to move the fabric over your hips, down the soft skin of your thighs, and over your pretty little legs and feet.

Finally, he had them.

Anakin wasted no time bringing the fabric to his face, inhaling deeply before moving his boxers down so he could stroke his cock.

Your scent was beyond intoxicating. No amount of alcohol or drugs could compare to the euphoria that your scent brought. Anakin could feel himself getting closer and closer, not only due to sheer sensory overload but also the perverseness of his actions.

His eyes were screwed shut feeling himself so close to reaching his peak. He was so overwhelmed that he didn't feel the bed shift under your weight as you moved. He only noticed your presence when he felt a soft hand touch his chest. His eyes shot open, a mixture of fear and embarrassment occupying his blown pupils. He was met with a devious little grin and utter delight plastered all over your face.

"You are such a little pervert. Stealing my panties to try and get yourself off..." Your voice was mocking and sultry, doing nothing to ease his embarrassment or how hard he still was. "Well... did it work?"

Anakin couldn't bring himself to meet your gaze, still embarrassed he was only able to shake his head.

"Aww, do you need help baby?" Anakin could only nod, "Let me help you."

You moved to rest your back against the headboard and spread your legs. "Lay your back against my chest." Anakin sat between your legs, strong back pressed against your chest. Your hands roamed over his skin with feather-light touches. Gods, your touch made hell seem cold.

Anakin’s breath hitched when your hand finally made its way to his dripping cock. You started slow, painfully slow.

“Faster…” His request came out more as a groan.

“What was that, Ani?” you leaned closer to his ear, “You’re not in any position to be making demands, sweetheart. A pervert like you should be thankful for what I’m willing to give.”

“I’m sorry… I-I ju- mmph!”

You cut him off, shoving your panties in his mouth, “Gods! You are making so much noise, puppy.”

At that moment, all thoughts left Anakin as he was swallowed by pleasure. Muffled moans made their way past the fabric in his mouth. Even quieted, they sounded so desperate and needy. All Anakin wanted to do was cum, he could feel himself getting so close but not able to quite get himself to fall off the edge.

You could tell he was struggling, “Aww, you're trying so hard puppy...” Your mocking tone only made his eyes roll back as his head made contact with your shoulder. “I know what will help.” He could hear the mischief in your tone. What he didn’t notice was you reaching between you, running your fingers along your slit before fingering yourself, just enough to coat your digits with your wetness, knowing that it would push him right over the edge.

You held your glistening fingers up to Anakin’s nose. You smelled divine, so intense. “Open, puppy.” He did just that allowing you to remove your panties from his mouth before replacing the fabric with your fingers.

Anakin groaned at the taste of you in his mouth, you could feel his body tense and his cock twitching. You tasted so good, so sweet. Anakin wanted more but he was distracted by the waves of pleasure that enveloped my body and the familiar feeling of pressure build up.

You continued your brutal pace, fingering Anakin’s mouth with one hand while fucking his cock with the other. Only you got to see this side of Anakin and Gods, he was never prettier than when he was falling apart in your hands.

You kissed his neck, “You wanna cum for me, puppy?”

“Mmhmm” Anakin tried to reply, before giving you a small nod as he continued to run his tongue along your delicate fingers with fervent desperation.

You pressed one more kiss to his neck, “Cum.” As your simple command left your lips, you bit down hard on the juncture between Anakin’s neck and shoulder.

Anakin’s body tensed as his orgasm washed over him like a tidal wave, his cum spilling over your hand. You removed the hand that was in his mouth moving it to wrap partially around his throat. You angled him so you could continue to leave open mouth kisses and bites along his neck and shoulder.

The pace of the hand still on his cock slowed but you weren’t ready to stop yet, despite the soft protests that left Ani’s lips. “I can’t, I-I can't… Please I can't…” You two had a safe word for a reason, if he really wanted you to stop he would tell you. Till that word was spoken, You couldn’t help but overstimulate him just a little. Anything to hear those pretty little whimpers pass his beautiful lips.

Your torture came to an end eventually, much to Anakin’s dismay, though he would never admit it.

Anakin shifted his position so that you were no longer behind him. He watched as you moved off the bed to stand in front of him. “You did so good for me puppy,” his heart skipped at your praise and the smile that graced your features. “Why don’t we get cleaned up and get some more sleep?”

Before you could completely move away from him, Anakin gently grabbed your wrist. You looked back in confusion and worry, “What’s wrong Ani? Did I push you too hard?”

He shook his head, flushed cheeks and fucked out expression still present on his face. “Can… Can I have a kiss... Please?”

“Oh, of course, baby.” You leaned down pressing your lips against his. The kiss was soft and gentle with lips moving slowly in tandem with one another. You were the one to break the kiss, knowing Anakin would be content to kiss you like that for the next ten lifetimes at the very least. “Let’s get cleaned up and when we're back in bed, I’ll kiss every inch of that handsome face of yours.”

As always, feedback, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

Taglist: @bimbo-baggins86 @daisydark @espinathena-17 @Ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist

𝑊𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑎 𝑏𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑑? 𝐿𝑒𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 💜

[romanarose]

Favorites of 2023

Hi! I've seen a lot people doing these so I thought I would too!

These are all sorts of Oscar Issac/Pedro Pascal fics that delighted me this year <3

I tried to keep it to one rec per author just because I have soooooo many friends with wonderful fics and blogs who deserve recognition

If yours didn't make it, NO FEAR you are still wonderful to me &lt;3

Everything is labeled properly in the fic so be warned, many of this contains dark!

3 series that I couldn't stop thinking about

Hungry Hearts By @atinylittlepain: The Last of Us, A Bruce Springsteen themed Joel series? SHEEEEEEEESH

Yearling by @justagalwhowrites : The Last of Us, Jackson!Joel and a victim of prolonged sexual assault. If you know me, you know I love a traumatized reader healing with the power of love and friendship

The Fractured Moon by @melodygatesauthor : Moon Knight, NON CON, dark moon boys is always a slay but the way Marc is so tortured and Steven is so needy?!?!?!?! Mels characterization of Steven may or may not have influenced my Ben in ROF

Three fics that rewired my brain

On the Waterfront by @beefrobeefcal : Triple Frontier, Now, I've always loved a tubby man with a belly (who else had a crush on Samwise Gamgee in LOTR?) BUT DARK FRANKIE?!?!?!?! Turned it into a full obsession.

I can be your pretty girl by @walkintotheriveranddisappear : The Last of Us, Wow, I devoured every single chapter!!! I thinka bout it so much, ESPECIALLY that scene with Tommy... I've never looked at a pool ball the same way.

Dancing With Wolves by @hon3yboy : Moon Knight, Now, I'm not the biggest monster fucker out there, but this?!?!?!?! WEREWOLF MARC SPECTOR??? Unwell about it.

3 times men jerking off was hot

Caught by @toxicanonymity : The Last of Us, I've mentioned in the authors note for Keep Cry'n that this fic inspired it, it's one I go back to allllll the time

Take Care of me Tonight by @missdictatorme : Moon Knight, Jake is horny and lonely and jerks of..... reader helps, and makes our boy feel special <3

Pent Up by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin : Narcos, Javi is... well... pent up, needs to let loose! and boy does he.

4 times it got gay bc something is wrong with me and I couldn't decide

Behind Enemy Lines by @astroboots : Triple Frontier, Y'all know how much I love this series, seeing as I wrote a fic for it XD but this chapter is something i always hold close <3

Captain of the team by @writefightandflightclub : Triple Frontier, MAAAAAANNNNN this fic is why I will never be the same as a person.

Trine by @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction : Sucker Punch. Anyone who reader blue jones should be reading this. Incredible.

What if he never had to go? by @velocibeewords : Triple Frontier, The infamous series I read on my friend bachelorette weekend! So good I couldn't put it down, going so far as to read it at a casino XD Benny and Santi, my babies

3 times underused characters shined

Oxford Comma by @whatthefishh : The Two Faces of January, Tell me, how does someone take a character with almost no following and make a series so damn beloved by many??? Only Mona could.

My Ex's Tapes by @runa-falls : Lighteningface, Basil Stilt AND Jake Lockley??!?! God bless this mess hnnggggg

I'm Getting What's Mine by @winniethewife : The Card Counter, dub con, I think we as a society need more William Tell, and sensory deprivation to break down reader? Amazing.

3 times they talked dirty to me *trumpet noises*

Not a Survivalist Girl by @tightjeansjavi and @chaotic-mystery : The Last of Us, when they finally fuck??? HELLO?!?!! unreal

Only Daddy That'll Walk the Line by @millerscoffee : The Last of Us, Joel is so degrading and condescending in this I think about it so much it's fucking unreal.

Making Trouble by @juneknight : Moon Knight, The fic that completly fried the brains of the moon knight fandom. "You cried like I was killing you—except you were begging me not to stop" yeah. Yeah...

3 times there were three or more

The story of us by @pimosworld : Triple Frontier, This series has a special place in heart bc Priscilla said I influenced a lo of it with the characterizations and thats such a big honor. Priscilla Is so talented and I adore how she writes these guys... and the FishBen wins my heart

Eyes on Me by @cavillscurls : The Last of Us, Soft Joel? Tommy watches? AFTERCARE?!?!?! Y'all know how much I love aftercare.... I should read this again shouldn't I?

Run the Table by @katiexpunk : The Last of Us, MORE TOMMY JOEL THREESOME! MORE!!!! This one came out recently so its still fresh in my mind

3 Times I should NOT have been into that

No Soul to Sell @atticrissfinch : The Last of Us, NON CON V DARK, this is the fic that made me like... yeah I'm into piss. No doubt. It was so dark and hot ;-;

Plushies Series by @pedge-page The Last of Us, Haru knows how much I love this, and it was a toss up between this and their piss kink but seeing as I got that above.... plushes needs more love bc its so soft and domestic and horny <3

Plaything by @missannwinchester : The Last of Us, wow, I adored this fic… then I lost it!!!! Thank you to everyone who helped find it bc it’s one of my favs. I wanna be Joel’s lil doll he dresses up 🥺

3 times I said “this is underrated af”

No One But Me by @koshkamartell : The Last of Us, Are y'all tired of me talking about this fic yet? Koshka told me my series The Wrong Way inspired this so it's special to my heart <3

Safe by @criticallyacclaimedstranger and @apascalrascal : Triple Frontier, Cal has so many good Frankie one shots it was hard to pick, but this one is sooooo soft. We love Frankie being willing to listen and learn.

Through the Scope by @ssuperficialspacecadett : Triple Frontier, Y'all know I love a traumatized reader learning to heal, but his fic is fantastic bc it's a traumatized reader who has done a lot of the work already and is strong and brave as it is <3 Also, all 4 of the guys are her friends now which is the best way to have a fic

Thank you all soooooo much for all these amazing fics and for a great 2023! Well. Not so great, I had terrible time lol but y'all were my solace <3

If you feel so inclined, check out my best of year wrapped for both RomanaRose and Romana-after-dark

I'm not gonna say 2024 is my year, I leanred my lesson XD I am approaching 2024 with RESPECT. It will be the year it is.

[obsidian-pages777]

Dionysus in your astrology chart. Where do you receive Revelry, Pleasure and transformation?

Asteroid Dionysus, named after the Greek god of wine, ecstasy, and revelry, can influence various aspects of life depending on its placement in an astrology chart. Each house represents a different area of life, and Dionysus's placement can highlight where a person might experience themes related to pleasure, creativity, chaos, and transformation.

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Dionysus, the Greek god of wine, fertility, and revelry, is a complex and fascinating figure whose mythology weaves together themes of ecstasy, chaos, and transformation. Born to Zeus, the king of the gods, and the mortal Semele, Dionysus’s birth was marked by tragedy and divine intervention. Hera, Zeus’s wife, tricked Semele into demanding Zeus reveal his true form, which incinerated her. Zeus saved the unborn Dionysus by sewing him into his thigh until he was ready to be born. This unusual birth symbolized Dionysus’s dual nature as both divine and mortal. Raised by nymphs, Dionysus grew to embody the life force and was associated with the vine, which produces wine, a substance that can both delight and destroy.

Dionysus wandered the world, spreading the art of viticulture and the ecstatic worship that accompanied it. His followers, known as Maenads or Bacchae, would enter frenzied states of ecstasy through dance, music, and intoxication, often losing themselves in the process. Dionysus’s mythology also includes themes of resistance and acceptance. For instance, King Pentheus of Thebes resisted Dionysus's influence, only to be driven mad and ultimately torn apart by his own mother in a bacchic frenzy. Conversely, Dionysus was also a god of liberation, bringing joy and divine madness that could free individuals from societal constraints. He represents the primal, untamed aspects of human nature, the potential for both creation and destruction inherent in ecstasy and revelry.

Here is an interpretation of Dionysus in each house:

1st House (Ascendant)

Influence: This placement brings a vibrant, charismatic, and magnetic personality. Individuals may have a strong desire for self-expression and indulgence. They might be seen as exciting, unpredictable, and sometimes chaotic.

2nd House

Influence: Dionysus here can indicate a love for luxury and material pleasures. There may be a tendency to spend impulsively or to find joy and meaning through possessions and sensory experiences.

3rd House

Influence: This placement can make communication lively and expressive. There might be a penchant for storytelling, social interactions, and a playful approach to learning and sharing information.

4th House (IC)

Influence: With Dionysus in the 4th house, the home and family life might be dynamic and sometimes tumultuous. There could be a strong connection to family traditions involving celebration and revelry.

5th House

Influence: This is a powerful placement for creativity, romance, and pleasure. Individuals might seek excitement and drama in love affairs and creative pursuits, enjoying a life filled with passion and artistic expression.

6th House

Influence: Dionysus in the 6th house can indicate a need to find joy in daily routines and work. There may be a struggle between maintaining order and giving in to chaos, or a desire to bring creativity and playfulness into work environments.

7th House (Descendant)

Influence: In the house of partnerships, this placement can bring dynamic and sometimes tumultuous relationships. There may be a draw towards partners who are exciting and unpredictable, with a focus on intense, transformative connections.

8th House

Influence: This placement suggests a deep connection with the themes of transformation, sexuality, and the taboo. There might be intense emotional experiences and a desire to explore the darker, more mysterious sides of life.

9th House

Influence: Dionysus in the 9th house can bring a love for adventure, travel, and philosophical exploration. Individuals might seek ecstatic experiences through expanding their horizons and embracing different cultures and beliefs.

10th House (MC)

Influence: In the career and public life house, Dionysus can indicate a public persona that is charismatic and possibly controversial. There might be a drive to achieve recognition through unconventional means and a desire to stand out.

11th House

Influence: This placement can make social circles and friendships vibrant and dynamic. Individuals might be drawn to groups and causes that celebrate freedom, creativity, and unconventional lifestyles.

12th House

Influence: Dionysus in the 12th house can indicate a deep, hidden connection to the unconscious mind, spirituality, and mysticism. There may be a tendency towards escapism, and a need to balance the desire for transcendence with grounded reality.

Summary

Asteroid Dionysus's placement in the astrological houses highlights areas of life where themes of pleasure, creativity, chaos, and transformation are prominent. Understanding this can help individuals navigate their tendencies and harness the dynamic energy of Dionysus in a constructive way.

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[shiningqueen]

silk rope, soy candles / nsfw mihawk x afab!reader

Honestly, this has lived rent free in my brain for over a week. So please enjoy this self indulgent piece. Rating: NSFW / minors do not interact Pairing: Mihawk x afab!reader Contents: consensual light bondage, light sensory deprivation, waxplay, oral (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving), biting, PiV intercourse, use of gendered pronouns (fem) and relevant parts. Notes: enthusiastic consent is important. also this is just as fay coded as my other works but none of you should be surprised.

The slide of soft braided rope bites into your wrists as you test the knots, muscles taut in the wake of another whole body shiver of cresting pleasure. You bite down on a throaty whine at the wet lave of a tongue circling your swollen bud. 

Your struggle does not go unnoticed, because the push-pull of euphoria is halted and lanced through by teeth stinging against your thigh. 

“What did I say?” The reprimand of your golden eyed lover is husked against your thigh, his stare is both warning and tease.

Your jaw tenses, “No freeing myself without permission,” but still your shoulders twist slightly against the bindings keeping your hands pinned behind your back. “You’re being cruel,” you accuse, muscles twitching from being denied release twice now.

Mihawk scoffs and slowly rises from where he knelt between your legs, palms like brands as they rest on your thighs and he hovers over you. “Cruel?” He echoes softly, expression predatory as he pushes you firmly to lay back on the bed.

You squirm from the uncomfortable press of your tethered hands into your lumbar, but Mihawk only applies more pressure to dig that discomfort deeper while coming to kneel between your spread thighs. There’s nothing to cover either of you, so there is no mistaking he is just as aroused as you are.

“I should loose these bonds if you’re just going to torture me,” you bite at him impatiently, and he knows you are fully capable of doing so easily. There was no restraint that could hold you - that you let him bind you was an act of trust.

He smirks at your indignation, “You won't,” tone silky as his hand skims up slowly from your navel, over your chest and clavicle before stopping briefly at your throat. Not to grasp you but merely lay his palm there, “but you do not grasp how cruel I can truly be, querida.” Mihawk hisses and in too quick of a motion, the warmth of his touch on your neck is gone - fingers knotting in your hair tightly and pulling to force your spine to curve off the bed.

He holds you taut, head tilted with eyes on the ceiling, so you can only feel how he grasps your hip in his other hand and drags the hot length of his cock through your wet, aching folds. 

The friction forces a moan out of you, frustrated yet simultaneously relieved from the throb pulsing in your core - but gods, the way Mihawk slowly ruts against you is blissful. 

“I can do this,” he emphasizes with a grunt, coating his length in your abundant slick and huffing from the pleasurable jolts the motion brings, “all night. Hold you down and only pursue my own relief.” The threat makes you squirm in his grasp but he holds fast, growling as he tugs on your hair painfully. 

“Behave and we both get what we want,” there’s a breathless quality to his voice despite himself, relishing in the way your hips grind up against his thrusts wantonly. The flex of your muscles beneath sweat beaded skin and the shaky keening sounds you make, even though you try to remain defiant under his control, delight him down to his marrow. 

You still think him cruel. How he leisurely strokes his length through your sex but refuses to bury himself inside you, where you desperately want him most, inner walls clenching around nothing. That gradual build up of pleasure but never close enough to the edge was exquisite torment.

“Please,” you whimper, trembling and Mihawk takes some pity on you by releasing the harsh grip on your hair, allowing you to slump down against the bed. You meet his hungry gaze with an equally heated look, “I’ll play nice for now,” you tease softly.

A chuckle rumbles in his chest as he drapes himself over you, caging you between his arms and nuzzling along your shoulder, lips grazing over the intricate lines of tattoos inked there. “Don’t be so impatient, starling,” he chides lowly and stifles any retort by slotting his mouth over yours. The kiss is deep and heady, tongue pushing past your lips to taste you and muffle your canting moans.

Mihawk’s languid thrusts continue whilst he kisses you, stoking the smoldering arousal in your belly, and it’s difficult to focus on anything else beyond the passionate claim of his mouth and the pulse in your core. Your hands clench beneath you, the longing to touch him was still present.

You’re too distracted to notice him reaching for something, until a strip of cloth is draped gently over your eyes and secured in place with a deft knot. Robbed of your sight, you fall still and exhale slowly to soothe the exciting twist of anxiety and anticipation running wild in your veins. Then Mihawk’s weight is lifted off you entirely and you protest the loss of him, stubbornly keeping your legs locked around his hips.

“You’re being so good for me, little bird,” Mihawk purrs approvingly while skimming his palms over your thighs, lust simmering under his skin as he admires you. This whole ordeal was an exercise in restraint, as every noise and encouraging movement from you wore away at his self control. He ached fiercely to have you but there was such a delicious appeal in drawing it out, luxuriating in the moment.

You thrum with titillation that becomes a euphoric spasm when fingers stroke along your inner thigh and then nimbly part your folds, gasping at the expert touch of digits at your clit. Circling, stroking, then dipping lower to sink into you. You clench tight around the intrusion and relish hearing Mihawk hiss under his breath, pushing his fingers deeper as he leans over you again.

Then you feel heat, a thick droplet of wax landing just above your navel. Even if you had known it would come eventually, it was still a surprise and the flush of new sensation has you tensing. 

In that very brief lapse of contact between you and him, Mihawk had lit a candle and held it steady in his right hand as the flame danced and softened the wax. He kept it aloft while his left worked between your legs, mindful not to let any accidental droplets fall on your flesh after the first. 

“Is it good, amor? Not too hot?” He asks sincerely, stilling the thrust of his fingers to give you a moment to breathe and process.

“I like it,” you assure him quietly, “keep going.” All your senses had grown more acute being sightless, every touch and sound amplified to provocative degrees. The wax had been a vexing combination of not-quite pain and ticklish pleasure.

With your encouragement, Mihawk resumes the gradual movement of his left hand, middle and ring fingers stroking the slick inner muscles of your center, working you up again from that temporary lull. 

It does not take long for you to be gasping and moaning from his ministrations, subtle tremors in your shoulders as you strain against the ropes again. Mihawk doesn't admonish you even if he notices, focusing instead on slowly dripping wax over your soft stomach. He marvels at the way you twitch as the wax lands, sometimes paired with a breathy giggle, how it oozes a few centimeters before cooling entirely; relishes the hitch in your voice each time. It’s viscerally sensual and it makes his arousal all the more poignant.

“Look at you, my pretty songbird,” he croons, voice thick with want as he grinds the heel of his palm against your clit, near grinning as you cry out from a particularly intense jolt of pleasure.

Your teeth lock against another moan as the hot wax beads along your torso and the heady promise of your climax builds, jerking your hips erratically with the pace of Mihawk’s digits. You whine and stutter around his name, uttering broken pleas that he doesnt stop. 

That he does not for a third time's a blessing; you don’t notice that he stops dripping wax when the rushing tide of orgasm breaks over you. A burst of heat and convulsing muscles, arching off the bed with a strangled shout that ebbs into whimpering for how the high slowly ebbs.

Mihawk is almost beside himself with ardent lust, unraveling you in this way that is so vulnerable and tactile is intoxicating. He withdraws from you, fingers coated in your slick and hums approvingly as he licks them clean. The candle, long snuffed out, is set aside and for a moment he traces the patterns of dried wax on your skin as you lay prone.

“Now you may unbind yourself, florecita.” 

Such sweet relief granted to you! Even in your haze, you nimbly loosen your wrists from the soft rope and pull your arms out from beneath you, stretching out languorously over the blankets. The blindfold is removed too just in time to catch Mihawk as he crawls over you, eagerly you reach to embrace him with a fey-like smile tugging at your mouth. You shift your legs to accommodate him settling between them and purr at the hot press of his cock against your inner thigh.

“Next time, I will drip wax on you, while you’re tied up.” You remark playfully, tracing your fingers along the sharp lines of his facial hair.

He rumbles with mirth, the vibration felt deep in your own chest as he presses flush to you, “As you wish, mi vida,” lips tickling at your throat as he wastes no time in rocking his hips forward to enter you. Breath luffed hot and damp over you as he sheathes himself to the hilt quickly, grinding deep and firm to enjoy the wet clench of you around him.

You gasp at being filled so abruptly and shiver, feeling him at every nerve, hooking one of your legs around him for leverage as you match his tempo. Now there is no reason to be slow or careful, you tangle hands into his black hair and pull him into an impatient, ravenous kiss. The groan that vibrates in Mihawk’s throat is nothing short of carnal.

The rhythm builds and the kiss gets messy, open mouths and teeth nipping between grunts and stifled moans. There’s no breath or thought for words, Mihawk chasing his end after having denied himself for so long in the pursuit of yours. He sinks his teeth into the meat of your shoulder with a snarl, the slap of skin on skin briefly drowned beneath your voice rising several octaves in rapturous abandon.

You dig and drag your nails over him, panting hoarsely as air is punched out of your lungs with every thrust, shoulder aching from the bruise forming under his mouth. The pain is only a complement to the pleasure of having him.

Mihawk huffs as he curls over you, hips stuttering as he reaches his limit, trembling from the force of his own climax as he sinks into you with finality. Every thick pulse is timed with a deep roll of his pelvis until the whiteout of orgasm fades and he’s prying his teeth from your shoulder. The indents left behind are kissed tenderly in fatigued apology.

You both sigh and settle, skin to skin and allowing each other’s hearts to ease into steadier patterns. It’s quiet moments of calming touches and featherlight kisses until Mihawk pulls away from your embrace to sit up. 

“Stay,” he says coolly, “I’ll draw us a bath.”

You’re happy to obey, boneless and drowsy on the bed. He collects you shortly thereafter, cradling you in his arms as he carries you to wash and relax in steaming waters. 

You curl against his chest in the bath, dozy like a spoiled cat and softly hum one of his favorite songs as the night wanes on in serenity.

[gabessquishytum]

Hi!! A few months ago you had answered my ask about 1789 Hob getting ready for the meeting by wearing every article of clothing piece by piece and Dream staying back instead of leaving and proceeding to take apart every piece. It was based on a video I had seen of Pinset Tailoring, where the guy basically dresses up in historical clothing and here he did one of late 1700s fashion. I just saw another video last week where he had organized the second Bridgerton ball and everyone was in costumes. And then his real-life boyfriend took the mic from him and surprised him and all the guests with a proposal!!! It was so cute!

I was thinking maybe a dreamling AU would be so great! One scenario could be an academic AU, where they are English and history professors (you take your pick who's who) and they are attending a fundraiser ball where everyone is wearing historical costumes. Hob has been very stressed out planning the ball since he's the event committee chair and Dream has been so aloof lately, which is making him even more stressed out. But Dream is just nervous about the proposal and planning everything and wondering if Hob will say yes! He is not trying to avoid him! Hob thinks Dream looks absolutely gorgeous in his black and violet outfit, and although he knows he looks good too, he can't help but feel some insecurity, especially with all the department people like that sleazy philosophy faculty Alex Burgess flirting with Dream. Joanna and Matthew tell Hob that he is overthinking it and he has nothing to worry about because Dream is on the other side of the room sending him horny looks.

When it's Hob's turn to give a speech as committee chair, he suddenly sees Dream walking towards him with steely determination but his tiny smile. Dream interrupts Hob's speech and requests Hob to hand him the mic. Hob is so confused. Even the musicians stop playing in the background. Dream starts talking and Joanna and Matthew, who were recording Hob's speech, just start saying oh no oh no he's doing it oh my God, and it finally strikes Hob. And there is Dream pulling out a beautiful box, bending on one knee, and holding the most beautiful ring. He asks Hob to marry him and Hob hugs him and says yes before Dream even finishes!!

Everyone cheers, the orchestra starts playing again, and Joanna and Matthew say first dance first dance. So Dream and Hob dance and while everyone thinks they look so adorable and Hob is all red with tears and emotions, Dream is actually saying all the filthy things he will do to Hob when they are alone, taking off all the parts of his costume and saving Hob's cute cravat for last. They may have waited till they went home or may have just sneaked off to an empty corner outside the hall!

I am dying this is so cuuuuuuuute.

While they're dancing slowly around the room, Hob jokingly tells Dream about how he thought that maybe Dream didn't like him anymore. And Dream growls in his ear that if he chooses, he'll take Hob to the cloakroom and show him exactly how much he likes him. All the guests hear Hob’s moan as he clings onto Dream, but nobody really minds.

Later when Hob is standing wearing only his beautiful engagement ring and cute ruffled cravat, with Dream kneeling in between his legs and kissing all the way up from his ankle to his cock... he is very much reassured that Dream likes him a lot. Feeling Dream’s mouth caressing the skin that has been all wrapped up in stockings for hours is the most delightful sensory experience of his life, and Hob is already daydreaming about how he'll wear stockings to their wedding and get Dream to peel them off with his mouth afterwards...

A nibble to his sensitive thigh reminds him to stay in the moment - there's still an engagement to celebrate, before he can start planning the wedding! He's got a beautiful Dream between his legs (still all decked out in his regency-style finery) and he'd better make the most of it!

[noxcorvid]

re: that last nord gods post, is kinda how i imagined miraak would function post-apocrypha. despite it being years since he's performed actual priest duties + considered the other totem gods due to his brain being fried for a few thousand years, once he touches grass is able re-experience nirn and the sensory feedback knocks him back on his ass + is updated on the intricacies of the civil war his extreme disgruntlement at it all (scandalized that the true nordic gods have been so thoroughly squashed from common life and replaced + replaced by southerners from across the mountains + replaced by some second rate dragonborn who never even killed a dragon + some second rate dragonborn who never even killed a dragon was able to conquer an empire and be considered a god, when miraak himself couldn't) marinates in him.

he's got a lot of complicated feelings about his priesthood + mask but he wanders around doing ancient priestly things out of spite and stubbornness. passive-aggressively sets up proper nordic shrines near alessian pantheon in major cities. visits a lot of the smaller villages + nameless hamlets to speak stories and whatnot and perform rituals (weddings, blessings, funerals) as desired. gets safe passage through a few bandit territories bc of this (several major bandit groups are really just older nordic clans who still live by the old ways and refuse to adapt to modern ways. they like that he's actively disdainful of the imperial gods).

he by n large refuses to speak cyrod, mainly sticks to nordic but has built up some goodwill with other denizens by speaking in dunmeris (he learned in apocrypha) to the dunmer on the eastern border, who he's built up a half-decent rapport with in windhelm, many of whom are in turn amused and delighted by his deep disdain for talos + ulfric + the many jackasses who try to start shit and how effortlessly he defends himself (physically or vocally), and how he manages to disappear whenever guards are pointed in his direction. he's ulfric stormcloak's faceless local enemy #1.

and he does still wear a mask; not always his priest mask, but between a pseudo-draugrfication of his face + apocryphal fungal growth that was cut out of him when he was first free he's lookin a little fucked up and that tends to ick and unnerve people so he keeps it covered a lot + after thousands of years of it being covered it still feels weird to have it uncovered too long. he's maybe got a mule he rides for a himself + rough mountain terrain + his knees aint what they used to be, and a pack goat that carries supplies for him

[luckycheesefoodie321]

PJO CHALICE OF THE GODS SPOILERS CH 18

Ch 18 Annabeth conquers all with Herbal Tea is for all those Dark!Percy truthers.

An absolute delight.

But also him being out-sarcasm’d and then getting battered around to total sensory overload and overstimulation and having to release all that built up frustration???

Elisson being completely put in his place bc he didn’t get the memo on Percy Jackson being THE Child of the Big Three, arguably the strongest Child of the Big Three in current existence, the one the Gods are crazy petty with but are now at a point where they don’t actually want to put him through harm bc he’s just that bitch that’s survived where others have not.

Wild shit. I love it. Feeding the fever, Rick, I appreciate it.

[girls--complex]

Do you have any advice on how someone should pray, individually or otherwise? I’ve been to Quaker meetings in the past but they make me so anxious for one reason or another. Should I just suck it up and keep trying?

Hai Anon, held U in the light today

Recurring anxiety during Contemplation is a pretty common experience furst of all, so ur not alone...

I would encourage you to find some spiritual guidance IRL. Either an actual meditation teacher or clergy or something or just a kindly elder to confide in. It's good to have a longitudinal conversation about this because different things will likely come up and different pointsin the journey. If you are very inhibited your nervous system needs social permission to access new consciousness. It's also good if they can get a multi sensory read on you. It's even better if they can consciously respond to your embodiment because fear lives in the body. Actually Buddhists tend to be really good at that if you're comfortable going there.

Compassionate and accessible resources can be found via the Center for Action and Contemplation (ecumenical, Franciscan theology) as well as Buddhist meditation teacher Pema Chodron ("getting unstuck")

My prayer life = clinging to remote fellowship with God constantly against being dragged into lifeless caenality. Remembrance of God's bottomless delight in creation. Openness 2 the channel... openness 2 myself in the world.. the defenseleness of incarnation. Youre always permeated or penetrated or saturated in this way. Discomfort doesn't always mean something is wrong. It *can* mean that something is wrong or it can mean that something is very right.

"Sucking it up," because there is a grit to holding, for instance and especially fear and not engaging in the usual shutdown or mythologies (fear is also very strongly impressed in my body), but more actually yielding, bending in the wind, untangling knots of resistance (impiety), letting the energy move thru U and pass. It is like passing a bladder stone or something. Actually it's crucifixion lol... c v c x v .... receptive and yielding grit, the toughness, actually the almightiness of divine Vulnerability

We have an animal instinct for how to allow physical pain through the body, by pacing, breath, shaking off, whatever, emotional pain functions similarly (arguably a class of physical pain). You may need help with this embodiment in some way? Even though a contemplative may sit still there is usually an intentional and structured embodied technique... as in zazen, they breathe and sit with intention at every step. But there is also pacing, dancing,intoning, quaking 🫨 tantra... and you can find a teacher in these things or discover them yourself. There's advantages and disadvantages to self direction.

Guidance to what to look for maybe or maybe not because I have so little information from you and so little of my own experience..........

best of luck friend

[getinthefuckingjaeger]

Sensory Prompt: 20 (Reflections in Glass), Buck and Bucky

(4&38)

(for @jakes3resin - its been in the drafts for a couple of weeks, since the first time you floated the idea)

“Jesus, Buck.” 

The sounds of a quiet sigh and the rustling of pressed uniform tickles Gale’s ears as he struggles to pick up his head from the bowl of his folded arms.

Slow as molasses, he opens his eyes with the window in his line of sight. It’s early - or so late that it’s early. The world outside is a still-life painting of sleeping high rise buildings, all covered under the shadows of the blue-black darkness of twilight. His own reflection in the window watched him right back, sunken tired eyes and all.  

He blinks hard, once, then deflates. 

In the semi-darkness of a city nightscape, Gale finds himself on the floor and folded nearly in half, back curved like a bow with his folded arms resting on the low coffee table in front of the window. His back aches, his legs numb, and his neck protests as he pushes himself away from the coffee table and slumps against the side of the hotel bed. At least the carpet is lush, he muses, hands rubbing and grabbing the fibers. 

He stares blankly at his reflection in the window, seeing without truly seeing the sleeping city beyond the glass panes. He sits in the quiet like a sentinel. 

Waiting.  

“Buck.” 

Another sigh, this time exasperated, bounces in the silence of this magic hour. Gale closes his eyes for half a second. Fear and resignation stir and fall into a familiar dance in him. Gale hears the familiar sounds again - the whispers of a starched uniform fold and give with every movement. His eyes falls from his reflection in the darkened window to right hand, studying the way the carpet peeks between the valleys of his fingers. 

“Buck come on, man.”

Only a little reluctantly did Gale lift his eyes from the carpet to the darkened window. He watches as a familiar figure bleeds into existence in the window, like a drop of color in a glass of water. Gale sees a man crouching beside him with his elbows resting on his knees, his handsome side profile tarnished only by the slight displeased pout of his lips.

Gale hums in acknowledgement. He is too tired to shake off this daydream, too wrung out to pretend that he does not welcome his specter, too empty to pretend that he doesn’t want to fall into its arms and follow it into the dark.

“I’ve never been more glad than I am now that you don’t drink - I’ll never complain about that ever again, hand to God.” 

He watches his specter rub its fingers over the prolific mustache - a gesture he has seen thousands of times in their short lifetime together. Gale feels the warmth of unshed tears starts to build and nausea climbs up his throat. 

There’s an animal made of love living in his chest, one that used to be soft and sweet, pliant and receptive to Gale’s touches and kisses. All that cloying sweetness is now gone, leaving a feral living-dead beast in its wake that lives off grief and regret, and it is clawing to get out - through bones, muscles and tendons. It is willing to claw its way out to freedom even if it kills Gale. 

And Gale, who has never let go of anything that he loves and loves him back, hopes that the beast does kill him when it escapes because at least then, he won’t have to live without it. 

He watches the man in the window settle beside him, pressed together from shoulder to elbow while the man’s long legs are splayed carelessly in contrast to Gale’s crossed legs. He thinks, with no small amount of jealousy, that the Gale in the window must be warming up now - that body in the window has always emit warmth like a furnace when it lived and breathed.

Curt used to drape his entire body over that broad, reliable back and made a show of sighing in contentment, delighted in the knowledge that he’s safe from Gale’s chronic inability to share. 

This is why I’m the big spoon, fellas. This right here is heaven.

Gale’s eyelids flutter when the animal gnaws at his breastbone. He lifts his left hand to rub his chest, his fingers firm through his soft sleeping shirt. 

“Big day, today.” 

The man in the window picks up window-Gale’s right hand and presses it between his big, labor-roughened ones. Gale watches as he fits their fingers together like puzzle-pieces before pressing their joined hands against his chest. Gale imagines he can feel the stiff material of that crisp buttoned shirt and the tie tucked neatly between the folds. 

“Listen, I don’t want you thinking that I’m all bent outta shape because you asked Benny to be your best man,” the man in the window kisses their joined hands. Gale wishes the animal in his chest would just eat his heart on its way out. “He’s a good guy, the best friend you’ll ever have. After me, that is.” 

The sky outside is starting to lighten - orange and yellow just starting to climb up the horizon, blending into the blues of the departing night sky. Their reflection in the window starts to blur at the edges with the light. Gale’s own right hand, empty of its complimentary left hand that used to belong to a man bigger than life itself, twitched. 

Eat me, kill me, do anything but don’t let me live without you. He thinks fervently as the pressure in his chest mounts, the beast’s attempt at a daring escape reaching its climax. He imagines the little beast, its mouth red with the gore of his torned-up heart, ripping into the sinews of his chest and digging its way out of its grave made of flesh and blood. 

“Someone had to go, Buck.” Gale can barely make out the outline of the man in the window with how fast the sun climbs on the horizon. He feels tears flood his eyes, his breaths coming in short and harsh. He sees a beautiful smile bloom on that beloved face, one so earnest that the force of it pushes beautiful blue eyes into crescent moons that used to light Gale’s night. “And I’m glad it was me, not you.” 

Gale can feel the animal’s claws piercing the skin of his chest now - so vividly that he wonders if he will see red bleed through his sleep shirt if he looks down. He wonders if his lifeblood will soak into this stupid lush carpet that he’s been ruining with his fingers for want of something else - something untouchable, unattainable, something stolen from him- to latch onto. 

His breaths are coming in too fast, too short. His eyes are overflowing. There is no way to stop the storm. He is drowning on dry land.

“I did set it up right.” 

The man in the window is just a blur of colors now, like watercolors on cellulose paper. Dark curls a blob of black, blending into splashes of beige, that bleeds into the drab olive of their uniforms. Despite all that, Gale can just see enough to pretend that the man is kissing window-Gale’s temple. 

His mind frantically searches through its ruined depths to pull up memories of the same lips pressing countless kisses to his face, his body, every inch of his skin in secrecy, hidden in alcoves and abandoned sheds and in the belly of a decommissioned B-17. He craves the sensation of warm dry lips against his skin, the euphoria of soaking up little pieces of John Egan's soul through skin to skin contact.

Sunrise peeks through the window. Its blood orange color spills onto the hotel floor like spilled wine, slowly but surely staining the carpet. 

“I just set it up for you.” 

The animal bursts through Gale’s chest in a mess of grief, blood, and gore. It tears a wretched sob from his throat, long overdue, for the first time since he jumped over that wall in Germany. 

The sun rises.

And his John is gone.

-

-

(read my partner in crime's thought's on this)

[hutahuta]

Thinking ab Pavia and his sweet tooth! He def takes his gf/partner out for gelato dates. What do you think his reaction would be if his gf made him a homemade dessert? Cute idea that maybe he’s been like “hmm where has she been going these past few days, she comes home late” and then he walks into the house and it is revealed she has been taking baking classes to make him something he’d like ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

P.AGE OO.7 — 𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐔𝐌 & NOBILITY : 交 ✦ ⏱

fem!reader x pavia || baking desserts ::

hLEPDM THIS IS SO CUTE ARGHGGJ making cookies for my love, I stir and mix ‼️ ty for requesting buty beloved

The kitchen is typically a cozy space that you found yourself drowning your thoughts out. A space adorned with the warmth of flickering oven light and the comforting hum of a mixer. There are shelves lined with various ingredients—flour, sugar, cocoa, and an assortment of spices—creating a vibrant palette for culinary creations. Countertops are adorned with mixing bowls, spoons, and trays of freshly baked goods cooling off, infusing the room with a sense of anticipation. The atmosphere is filled with joy, as you meticulously prepare his favorite treats, sharing not only delightful sweets but also warmth, love, and a sense of home.

You recall a time during one of the many dates you had together, Pavia would mark a question that highlighted at the back of your head which initially started this whole ordeal.

" You know, amore. I wish to try more than one flavour.. If I could, I'd bring you the finest desserts of Piemonte. "

More than one dessert? He deserves it. He works hard, day in, day out. So you made it a personal goal to set yourself a deadline to create a few sweets that can be savoured to share between the two of you. Cupcakes, Panna Cotta, Cannoli, Tiramisu.. Oh my, you knew he'd adore Tiramisu.

Weakly, you picked up the spoonful of batter and took a deep inhale of the sweet aroma that infiltrated your mind with a warm sense of joy. You knew what you were doing.

The recipes you could learn from the basic cookbook didn't offer you much help, but you did the best you can. The classes you took, though.. God, it helped a lot. From the moment you started, from the final touches you added to the batter as of right now; you can't help but admire how far your skills had advanced throughout the months. The skilful use of your fingers pinching and twisting the desserts to create a beautiful swirl, the mix of saltiness and sweetness drizzled into every bite one would take inside of the soft filling; you considered to think of yourself to feel as though you were truly a chef.

Even so, you'd ponder in the back of your head if he'd always wonder where on earth you'd be biding your time. That the worry settles in through the depths of his mind that he can't help but weigh the feeling of you potentially.. distancing yourself from him? Questions would probably plague his mind, had he thought, what did he do? Was it something he said to you before? You planned to explain all of it later, but you knew him well. You knew how he'd overthink quite so often.

Even if you'd been late going back home, it's all worth it.. It's thought that counts, right? Regardless, Pavia always told you that any act of thoughtfulness bespeaks a profound commitment, an investment of time, skill, and meticulous attention to detail, all orchestrated to fashion a sensory delight. So the thought of your worries of him being hurt in the process of your surprise was suppressed at the back of your head. Whatever though.. You knew he never had the time to do fluffy baking with you, but what if you made these yourself? What's more homey than to have a loving girl such as yourself welcome a tired man back to his safe space? A serene thought that make your head swirl with all sorts of concerts that spiralled down into something so deeply fuzzy and admirable..

" Hm.. More sugar? " You asked, quietly mumbling to yourself. Adding more wouldn't spoil the flavour, right?

" He won't mind. " You chuckled thereafter.

The concoction of these delectable treats isn’t merely a culinary endeavor; it’s a soulful expression, an artful symphony that harmonizes flavors, textures, and aromas to compose an edible testament of love. The careful selection of ingredients, the rhythmic blending, and the transformative process within the oven embody the care and consideration invested in the act. Or, that's what you would like to think anyway.

Yet, a soft click ticked in the chains of the door. Maleficent who firmly guarded themself near the entrance let out a quiet whimper that had you peeking your head to wonder if that is who you truly think it is? But the moment you looked down, you realised how dirty you'd become with the flour staining your apron and hands.

" [ Name ] ! I'm home! You're here, no? " Pavia's firm voice had you suddenly unfasten the knot on the back of your apron, throwing it elsewhere before you quickly checked the time on the antique clock at the back. Shit, what time was it? Did Pavia arrive before 10?

You stared at the soft ticks chipping away at the time, noticing how the vintage wallpaper that started to show marks of the cracks wearing in slowly.

You made a mental note to make sure to fix that later.

" [ Name! ] "

Oh, right. You still have time to clear everything away before—

A head slowly peeled out of the corner, the soft licks of Andrea heaping at bare skin of your ankles make you uncontrollably giggle as Pavia followed your voice into the kitchen.

" Something does smell wonderfully sweet. Dear cucciola.." He warmly pressed a soft kiss on your forehead. Suddenly, you witnessed him pause in his tracks to address the sudden situation caving into his mind, trying to piece in every piece of the missing puzzle engraved in his brain.

" But what the hell is this mess, though?.. " His eyes darted towards the counter that littered with sprinkles full of flour and icing peppered across the edge of your fingertips. The stern tone made you quietly snort, immediately casting your gaze away from him.

" N-Nothing, I didn't expect you to come home so early. "

" Likewise. " He stated, bluntly, still taking a good look around the kitchen to see how your quiet, timid self leaned against the counter-top in a sudden weary feeling of dread weighing down in your stomach.

" Ah.. "

You opened your mouth to speak, yet, you couldn't help but stare at him contently for a brief second. How on earth can you possibly tell him that you'd have been spending your time trying to learn how to make simple desserts yet also complex patterns to make them look somewhat luxurious ? You knew he loved the fancy food, but always thought it was a waste to enjoy something once and never have it again. So why not make them so he doesn't have to necessarily waste his money on fancy desserts? Even though this man made thousands.

" Ha.. Alright, you got me. " You raised your hands. Pavia raised his eyebrows at this with the quiet smile lingering in the back.. " You ruined the surprise though.. I expected you to be back home much more later than expected.. "

" Got off the job early today, amore. But, do tell.." He paused, almost in disbelief from the way you seemed to mark his eyes darting left and right to his kitchen being in somewhat of a complete mess.

" Are you.. baking? " He murmured, taking your warm, icing dipped hands into his own cold palms without even having to look at you. You knew Pavia wasn't too mad, (thankfully), but it made you feel quite.. appreciated in some way. Like you could almost tell how he adored the way your smaller figure could even muster such a task to make something as adorable as this?

On the other side of the table, though, it was purely kept clean for the sake of showcasing the desserts in order of height. You remember delicately choosing which place to put each one of them in, from descending or ascending order? Whichever never mattered to you, but now you think about it, arranging them into groups that settled with each other in colours would've been the more suitable order.

" A-Ah..Ha. Well, yeah. I just thought I might do something nice for you. You mentioned quite a while back you wanted to try something new, right? "

" Yes, but I never thought you'd take it quite.. literally. Jesus f*cking Christ, [ Name. ] " The man hastily pressed several kisses against your knuckles, tasting the icing into his own lips before he chuckled quietly to kiss your own. You never had a chance to even say anything before he started confining heated kisses into your face and arms.

" Why do you do such things? What did I ever do to deserve this, amore? " He chuckled softly the moment he pulled away, leaning into your ear to have his warm breath tickle the sensitive area within you. It's as if one part of him felt so relieved that you weren't up to some shady business. He trusted you, wholeheartedly. But could one possibly blame him for having sudden doubts when he thought you might be slowly trying to leave?

"Ha, don't answer that. Your actions speak so dearly.. And your eyes speak the truth of your devotion for me, huh? " And he remembered. He always remembers. All of this was for him. So if you did this, there's no other human or arcanist, be it man or woman or person, who would ever dare to replace you.

This is all your work. Your art. And Pavia guiltily admired every bit of it.

He murmured praises between shaky breathes, unable to stop peppering your lips with eager kisses that may leave you spiralling into madness full of eternal joy. But then, he sighed to let out a quiet mumble, looking directly at you in the face. " Was this why you were so—..?"

" Distant? Yes.. I took the remaining week to partake in some..uh— classes. Sorry.. I didn't mean to come off across as me trying to lea—" Your words, instantly cut off by the touch starved puppy of a man pressing his own body against yours; lips latching onto one another as his previous kisses continued to spill tales of how desperately in love he is with you.

" Jesus Christ, Pavia. " You closed your eyes..

" You did this for me, huh? " He trembled. The warmth of your cheeks heated up, his body starting to succumb into the rising temperatures that combated against the bitter coldness that sunk into his skin like ant bites.

You nodded, sheepishly. The mess was an embarrassment to say the least, but by the gods, if you could, you would describe how utter gratitude wafted over his face, eyes glimmering under the light of the bulbs that flicked a couple of times then and there. He didn't care about the mess anymore, but what he couldn't take his eyes off were the humble sweets you took your own time, money, and effort into making purely for the sake of his satisfaction.

And by the heavenly gods, was he satisfied.

" Come.. Let us clean this space and enjoy your creations, my dear. You truly spent this week to devote it purely for me..? " He still spoke in disbelief, unable to contain the inner childish words that wanted to latch onto this woman and giggle around like a boy that just found a few cents off the ground to buy an ice cream.

You guided yourself to rinse off the icing and batter staining your hands before you sighed to turn around to see your own beloved fawn over at how adorably cute these small treats were. Some were easy, some were as difficult as they looked. Andrea pressed their paws against the counter, equally as hungry as he had looked. The similarities between the two determined the reason as to why you'll forever stick with him and his kin. You are truly his angel, and for this simple gesture, Pavia promises, mentally, that he'd repay all of this back tenfold.

[arpmemething2]

Star Trek: The Next Generation Sentence Starters

Send one to see how my muse reacts.  Feel free to change pronouns as needed.

"He must have died in his sleep."

"I would be delighted to offer any advice I can on understanding women. When I have some, I'll let you know."

"Father said she went to a beautiful place where everything is peaceful and everyone loves each other and no one ever gets sick. Do you think there's really a place like that?"

"I said shut up! As in close your mouth and stop talking."

"When I stroke the beard thusly; do I not appear more intellectual?"

“I could be chasing an untamed ornithoid without cause.”

"I wonder if the Emperor Honorious watching the Visigoths coming over the Seventh Hill truly realised that the Roman Empire was about to fall?"

"So then I said, 'In that frame of reference the perihelion of Mercury would have preceded in the opposite direction.'"

"How old do you think I am, anyway? "

"A blind man teaching an android how to paint? That's gotta be worth a couple of pages in somebody's book."

"What a terrible way to die."

"It is possible to commit no errors and still lose. That is not a weakness. That is life. "

"It's the struggle itself that is most important.  We must strive to be more than we are."

"You are a little boy, six years old. You cannot hurt me."

"There's theory and there's application.  They don't always jibe."

"There are times when men of good conscience cannot blindly follow orders."

"With the first link, the chain is forged. The first speech censored, the first thought forbidden, the first freedom denied, chains us all irrevocably."

"Sir, I protest, I am NOT a merry man!"

“The arbiter of a demanding wargame rendered the word "mismatch" as "challenge" in his language.”

"He treated me no differently from anyone else. He accepted me for what I am. And that, I have learned, is friendship."

"Someone once told me that time was a predator that stalked us all our lives. I rather believe that time is a companion who goes with us on the journey and reminds us to cherish every moment, because it will never come again. What we leave behind is not as important as how we've lived. After all, we're only mortal."

"You share all of those qualities in abundance. Perhaps you should try to build on your similarities."

"I tend bar and I listen."

"For that one fraction of a second, you were open to options you had never considered. That is the exploration that awaits you... not mapping stars and studying nebula... but charting the unknown possibilities of existence."

"If you were any other man I would kill you where you stand!"

"There can be no justice so long as laws are absolute. Even life itself is an exercise in exceptions."

"Sharing an orbit with God is no small experience."

"Make it so."

"You see things with the eyes of a child, and that makes you more human than any of us."

“Life's true gift is the capacity to enjoy enjoyment.”

"No. Men do not roar. Women roar. Then they hurl heavy objects... and claw at you. "

"Vamoose, ye little varmint!"

"You are free to execute your laws and your citizens as you see fit."

"We think we've come so far. Torture of heretics, burning of witches, it's all ancient history. And then, before you can blink an eye, suddenly it threatens to start all over again."

"Resistance is futile"

"What you are saying... is that you are lonely?"

"There are four lights!"

"This is mutiny!"

"There are many parts of my youth that I'm not proud of... there were loose threads... untidy parts of me that I would like to remove. But when I pulled on one of those threads... it had unraveled the tapestry of my life."

"I should have done this a long time ago."

"I've seen you think your way out of worse problems than this."

"It's just that our mental pathways have become accustomed to your sensory input patterns."

"What you have done will have serious ramifications. I am truly dismayed that you told no-one of what you were doing."

“I have to set an example, now more than ever. Facing death is the ultimate test of character.”

"In order to defeat your enemy, you must first understand them."

"Swimming is too much like bathing."

"Let me get this straight--you want me to take off your head?"

"Remember, put your shoes away."

"You jewel. That's exactly what I hoped."

"So, five-card stud, nothing wild... and the sky's the limit."

"Space... The final frontier."

"If there's nothing wrong with me, maybe there's something wrong with the universe!"

"Oh, I know Hamlet. And what he might say with irony, I say with conviction: "What a piece of work is man! How noble in reason! How infinite in faculty! In form, in moving, how express and admirable! In action, how like an angel! In apprehension, how like a god!" "

"Villains who twirl their mustaches are easy to spot. Those who clothe themselves in good deeds are well-camouflaged."

"He wants the impossible."

"Flair is what makes the difference between artistry and mere competence."

"What is it about these squirming little infants that you find so appealing?"

"Those deaths must be avenged."

"He'd listen to everyone's opinion and then make his own decision."

"Do you think you're the only one in pain? That you have a monopoly on loss?"

"I don't have all the answers, I've never been dead before."

"I have never subscribed to the theory that political power flows from the barrel of a gun."

"Wishing for a thing doesn't make it so."

"There'll be others-but every time you feel love, it'll be different. Every time it's different."

“With the first link, the chain is forged. The first speech censured, the first thought forbidden, the first freedom denied - chains us all irrevocably.”

"You must not kneel to me.  I do not deserve it."

"I do not fire on defenseless people."

"Things are only impossible until they're not"

"You have never seen death. Then look, and always remember."

"Good tea. Nice house."

"If the cause is just and honorable, they are prepared to give their lives."

"There are still many human emotions I do not fully comprehend: angry, revenge, jealousy. But I am not mystified by the desire to be loved, or the need for friendship. These are things I do understand."

"It is definitely like alcohol intoxication. The same lack of good judgment. For example, right now I find you extremely, extremely... of course we haven't time for that sort of thing."

"You have to measure your successes and your failures within, not by anything I or anyone else might think."

"If you can't take a little bloody nose, maybe you ought to go back home and crawl under your bed. It's not safe out here. It's wondrous, with treasures to satiate desires both subtle and gross. But it's not for the timid."

"You cannot justify a wantonly immoral act by citing the greater good!"

"This is down. Down is good. This is up. Up is no"

[strayheartless]

There is a wonderfully loud three year old in my house and while my sensory issues don’t think it’s a vibe, my fic brain is now thinking about how baby Cloud just wouldn’t be like that.

Three year old Cloud is, first of all, tiny. Like, he’s properly, properly small. His Ma really doesn’t have much in the way of money so they rely on hunting and foraging, which didn’t always garner the best results so Cloud was skin and bone for most of his childhood.

Cloud didn’t speak for a long time. He could, physically he actually had quite a developed vocabulary on account of Claudia constantly talking g and reading to him. But he didn’t want to talk for a very long time.

Cloud didn’t play like other kids. It’s my personal headcanon that Cloud is on the spectrum so I often imagine him lining up his tin soldiers, but I also imagine he was obsessive about brushing his Sephiroth dolls hair.

He had dolls of Angeal and Genesis too that he played with, but he took the Seph doll everywhere. To the store? Better take sephiroth in case of monsters. To the Forest? Better take Sephiroth in case of monsters. Bedtime? Sephiroth will keep watch.

Baby cloud wasn’t cuddly. He wanted to be. God was he desperate to be cuddly, but adults have smacked Cloud in the face for less. Not Claudia, never Claudia but one of the first memories Cloud has from his childhood is being three years old and struck across the cheek by a lady in the general store for being ‘rude’ and not answering her.

The times Claudia can coax him into her arms are special because they are the times Cloud talks. He sits in the circle of her arms and plays with her fingers and speaks just above a whisper about the new newspaper pictures of Sephiroth, or chatters placidly about the vegetables in the allotment and the ones he wants to grow in the summer.

I feel like actually Seph and Cloud would bond over how badly adjusted both of them were as children. Cloud shares being dragged in front of the town council and publicly caned and humiliated after saving Tifa. Sephiroth shares the time that Hojo injected with a test drug in front of president Shinra after he dared to question orders. Angeal, Genesis and Zack sit in silent horror though the entire conversation.

Cloud giggled very rarely, and the first time Claudia ever heard him laugh in delight was the birthday he got the FIRSTS dolls. He immediately enacted the latest Wutai defence strategy that was in the papers, going outside to draw battle lines in the sand and set up a battle front against the vegetable patch.

Clouds has a problem with authority… the problem is he’s scared stiff of it. There are certain words that will have Cloud lock up and not be able to speak or move. The firsts learn this the hard way. A single ‘don’t’ is enough to pull him up short, but the first time Genesis yelled at him as his mentor Cloud reacted so badly he disassociated hard. All Gen said was ‘how dare you…’ but it was enough. One second he’s angry about insubordination, the next he’s following a sprinting cloud into the bathroom to rub his back through panic induced nausea.

One day I’ll stop torturing him. Today… is not that day.