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reveriebae · 6 days ago

Text

Sugar-coated Sin

pairing(s) : Choi San x reader

word count : 8383

summary : A harmless cookie, a hidden crush, and a night of no return.

genre : smut

warning(s) : Explicit sexual content, aphrodisiac use, desperation, begging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, slight corruption kink, switch!San, submissive reader, rough and messy oral, mild dub-con due to aphrodisiac effects, fluids everywhere, slight degradation, heavy praise, cock-drunk reader, love confessions in the heat of the moment. Let me know if I missed anything!

A/N : Maybe...just maybe, this one is the filthiest fic I've ever written :>

Minors do not interact, 21+ only!!

🪐smut under the cut 🪐

The glow of the TV screen flickered across the dimly lit living room, casting soft shadows on the walls. The movie played on, but neither of you was really watching. San sat comfortably on the couch beside you, legs spread lazily, one arm slung over the backrest while his other hand rested on his thigh. You had invited him over under the pretense of a casual movie night, a friendly hangout between neighbors. But the truth? You’d been harboring a quiet, desperate crush on him for months, watching him through your window when he left for the gym, catching glimpses of his toned arms whenever he wore sleeveless shirts, and hearing his deep, sleepy voice whenever he greeted you in the morning.

Tonight, he was so close, sitting right beside you, his scent—a mix of fresh laundry and something unmistakably San—lingering in the air. Your heart raced, but you kept your cool, tucking your legs beneath you as you reached for a handful of popcorn.

The coffee table in front of you was littered with snacks—half a bag of chips, an open pack of gummies, and a single, unopened box of purple cookies. It had been there since the beginning of the night, untouched, yet its unusual color stood out among the rest.

San’s sharp eyes landed on it after a while. “What’s that?” he asked, nodding toward the box as he leaned forward to grab his drink.

You blinked, feigning curiosity as you followed his gaze. “Hmm?”

“The cookies. They’re purple.” His brows furrowed slightly as he picked up the box, turning it in his hands. “Where’d you get these?”

You shrugged, acting completely indifferent. “I dunno. Maybe my friend left them here last time. Probably blueberry or something.” You popped another piece of popcorn into your mouth, keeping your expression perfectly neutral.

San hummed, seemingly satisfied with your answer. He opened the box with a crinkle of plastic, pulling out a cookie. It was a deep shade of violet, oddly smooth, and smelled faintly sweet—almost floral. He gave it a brief sniff before shrugging and taking a bite.

It took barely a second before he hummed in appreciation. “Oh, these are good,” he muttered through a mouthful.

You glanced at him, watching as he chewed slowly, his jaw flexing with every movement. “Yeah?”

“Mmh,” he nodded, already reaching for another. “They’re soft, kind of sweet but not too much. You really never tried them?”

You shook your head, hiding your smirk behind the rim of your glass as you sipped your drink. “Nope.”

San, completely unaware, continued eating. One cookie turned into two. Then three. Then four. You watched as he absentmindedly finished the fifth, licking a stray crumb off his thumb before grabbing a sixth without thinking. He was completely at ease, eyes flicking back to the screen as the movie droned on, paying no attention to the way his fingers twitched slightly against his thigh.

It started subtly.

The first thing you noticed was the way he shifted in his seat, rolling his shoulders as if trying to shake off an odd sensation. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and his brows knitted together briefly before he relaxed again. You pretended not to see it, keeping your gaze trained on the screen even as you observed him from the corner of your eye.

Minutes passed, and San’s breathing grew a little heavier. Not noticeably so—but you caught it. His chest rose and fell just a fraction quicker than before. His fingers twitched again, flexing briefly before he balled them into a loose fist.

Then, he exhaled sharply through his nose.

You turned to him, feigning curiosity. “You okay?”

San tensed at your voice, his head snapping toward you. His pupils were slightly blown, his lips parted as if he was about to say something—but he hesitated. His jaw clenched.

“Yeah,” he muttered, voice slightly hoarse. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

You blinked, tilting your head innocently. “You sure? You look kinda… hot.”

San inhaled deeply through his nose. His fingers dug into his thigh, gripping the fabric of his sweatpants as he forced out a chuckle. “M’fine.”

But he wasn’t.

The flush creeping up his neck told a different story. His body was heating up, slow and unbearable, a warmth that started in his stomach and trickled downward, pooling between his legs. He shifted again, subtly this time, pressing his thighs together as if that would help. His cock twitched, and he bit the inside of his cheek, willing it to calm down.

Not now. Not here.

But fuck—he could feel everything. The way his clothes clung to his skin, the way the air suddenly felt too thick, the way his heartbeat pounded just a little too hard in his ears. And then there was you.

You, sitting beside him, completely oblivious. Looking so fucking innocent.

San let out a slow breath, gripping his knee to steady himself. He could feel his body reacting against his will, heat rushing straight to his groin as a dull ache settled low in his stomach. He swallowed thickly, pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth.

It had to be the cookies.

He glanced at the empty wrappers on the table, realization dawning—but it was too late. His body was already betraying him.

And the worst part? You weren’t even helping.

You shifted slightly, your thigh brushing against his just barely, and San had to suppress the whimper threatening to escape his lips. Fuck. He was too aware, too sensitive, too turned on, and you weren’t even doing anything.

Or maybe you were.

Maybe it was the way you leaned closer to grab your drink, your scent hitting him in full force. Maybe it was the way your lips parted slightly when you took a sip, or the way your throat bobbed when you swallowed. Maybe it was the way your fingers absentmindedly toyed with the hem of your shorts, completely unaware of the hell you were putting him through.

Or maybe—just maybe—it was the way you turned to him, brows furrowed in faux concern as you murmured, “San, are you sure you’re okay? You look really flustered.”

His breath hitched.

You were too good at this. Too good at acting clueless.

And fuck, he didn’t know how much longer he could hold himself back.

San swallowed hard, forcing himself to focus—on anything but the unbearable heat coursing through his veins. But every second that passed made it worse. His skin felt too tight, his sweatpants suddenly too restrictive, and his cock throbbed in his boxers, demanding attention he couldn’t give it.

Not in front of you. Not when you looked at him like that—so wide-eyed, so innocent, like you had no idea what you’d just done to him.

You shifted closer, your hand grazing his arm as you peered at him in mock concern. “San…?”

His breath came out shaky. His fingers twitched against his thigh. His jaw clenched so tightly it ached.

“Don’t.” His voice was hoarse, strained, like he was barely holding himself together.

You blinked. “Don’t what?”

San exhaled sharply, his grip on his knee tightening. “Don’t look at me like that.”

You tilted your head, feigning innocence. “Like what?”

His nostrils flared. His body jerked when you shifted again, your knee brushing against his thigh, and this time—this time—it was too much. His cock twitched violently in his pants, straining against the fabric, and he felt it—the way the pulse of need shot straight through him, leaving him aching.

“Fuck—” he hissed under his breath, squeezing his eyes shut.

You stared at him, watching the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. The way his fingers dug into his thigh, white-knuckled, as he fought against whatever was happening to him. And then, ever so sweetly, you asked—

“San… what’s wrong?”

His eyes snapped open.

Oh, you were good.

Too fucking good.

San turned his head slowly, fixing you with a look so dark, so desperate, it sent a shiver down your spine. His pupils were completely blown now, his face flushed, his chest rising and falling just a bit too quickly.

And then—his tongue darted out to wet his lips, and fuck, it was almost shy the way he whispered—

“I need you to leave.”

Your brows lifted. “Huh?”

His jaw clenched. “I need you to leave. Now.”

You blinked at him, feigning confusion. “Why? This is my house”

San exhaled hard through his nose, shifting again, trying so desperately not to move his hips—but it was useless. He was already hard. Painfully so. His cock pressed against the fabric of his sweatpants, aching, and every little movement sent a fresh wave of heat crashing through him.

And you—

You sat there, looking at him like you didn’t just wreck him completely.

His fingers flexed against his knee. His tongue flicked out again, wetting his lips. He was holding back—barely—but the cracks were starting to show.

And then, you said it.

Soft, sweet, and utterly devastating.

“…San, do you need help?”

His entire body froze.

Silence. Thick, heavy silence. The only sound was the low hum of the TV, the flickering light casting faint shadows across his face.

San didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.

You watched him carefully, noting the way his shoulders tensed, the way his fingers flexed just slightly.

He turned his head, gaze locking onto yours, dark and unreadable.

“…What did you just say?” His voice was low. Dangerously low.

You tilted your head, feigning innocence. “I asked if you need help. You look really uncomfo—”

San let out a sharp breath, a broken, frustrated laugh leaving his lips as he leaned forward, pressing his elbows to his knees. His hands threaded through his hair, gripping at the strands, his shoulders heaving.

“You—” He exhaled shakily, lifting his head to meet your gaze. “You don’t even know what you’re doing right now, do you?”

You blinked. “What do you mean?”

San let out another laugh, but this one was strained, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip. His legs spread just slightly, enough that you could see the outline of his problem if you were looking.

Which you were.

His voice dropped even lower, rough and needy.

“Baby, if you don’t leave right now…”

A pause. A breath.

And then—

“…I won’t be able to stop myself.”

The room felt unbearably hot, the space between you crackling with something thick, something dangerous. San sat there, legs spread just enough for you to see the bulge in his sweatpants, his fingers gripping his knees so tightly his knuckles were white. His chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, his tongue darting out—again—to wet his lips.

He was trying so hard to keep himself in check.

But you weren’t making it easy for him.

You sat there, all wide-eyed and sweet, your lips barely parted in faux confusion, your body angled ever so slightly toward him. You were playing your part perfectly, pretending to be clueless, pretending you didn’t see the way his cock strained against his sweatpants, thick and aching.

San let out another shaky breath, his fingers flexing, nails digging into the fabric of his pants. His entire body was tense, trembling with restraint, his mind a mess of heat and hunger.

“I’m serious,” he gritted out, voice dangerously low. “You need to go.”

But you didn’t move.

Instead, you shifted closer, your knee brushing against his, and—

Fuck.

San’s entire body jerked, a low, strangled noise catching in his throat. His hands flew to his thighs, gripping them so hard it was almost painful. His lips parted as he sucked in a sharp breath, his head tilting back against the couch, his jaw tight.

Oh.

You bit the inside of your cheek, watching the way his chest heaved, the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed. His skin was flushed, a deep, burning red creeping up his neck, his hair slightly damp with sweat.

“…San?” Your voice was soft, so innocent.

His fingers twitched. His nostrils flared.

And then—he turned to you.

Slowly.

Dangerously.

His pupils were completely blown now, his lips slightly swollen from how hard he was biting them. His expression was wrecked—half desperate, half pained—but beneath it all, there was something else.

Something dark.

Something hungry.

“…You’re fucking with me.” His voice was hoarse, dripping with frustration.

You blinked. “I’m not.”

His jaw clenched. “Yes, you are.”

“I really don’t—”

“Baby.”

You froze.

San’s hand suddenly shot out, fingers curling around your wrist—not rough, not forceful, but firm. His grip was warm, burning, his thumb pressing against your pulse point, feeling the way it jumped beneath his touch.

Your breath caught in your throat.

He felt it.

And fuck—his lips curled into something almost dangerous.

“…You like this, don’t you?” His voice was a whisper, low and intense.

You swallowed. “San—”

“You like watching me like this.” His thumb stroked against your wrist, slow and deliberate. “You like seeing me hold myself back. You like seeing me suffer.”

You opened your mouth—to deny it, to keep up the act—but then San’s grip tightened, just slightly, just enough to make you feel it.

Your breath hitched.

San exhaled sharply, his eyes flicking down—to your lips, to your throat, to the way your chest rose and fell in shallow breaths. His own breathing was shaky, his entire body trembling with the effort to keep himself from snapping.

He was holding on by a thread.

And then—

“…You really shouldn’t have let me eat those cookies, baby.”

San was unraveling.

His grip on your wrist tightened for a brief moment before he let go—only to move faster than you could react. One second, he was sitting beside you, barely holding himself together, and the next—

You were on your back.

Your body sank into the couch, your breath punched out of you as San hovered above, his hands gripping your thighs so tightly you could feel the heat of his palms through your shorts. His pupils were blown, his lips parted, his chest heaving as he stared down at you like he was about to devour you whole.

“San—”

“Shh,” he rasped, shaking his head, his thumbs stroking against your skin. “No more talking.”

His voice was ruined—wrecked with frustration, with need, with the unbearable ache that had been building inside him since the moment he ate those damn cookies.

And then—

Rip.

Your breath hitched as your shorts and panties were suddenly yanked down in one go, the cool air hitting your bare skin. Your thighs clenched together on instinct, but San didn’t let you close them—his hands pushed them apart, his fingers digging into your flesh as he spread you open wide for him.

“Fucking finally,” he groaned, almost in relief.

Heat flared through your body, your stomach twisting into a tight knot as you felt his breath—warm and heavy—ghost over your exposed skin.

“S-San—”

“I don’t wanna hear a fucking word,” he cut you off, his voice dropping into something dark, something dangerous. His hands tightened on your thighs, his fingers pressing deep into the flesh. “You’ve been sitting there all fucking innocent, acting like you don’t know what you’re doing to me—”

He let out a sharp, frustrated breath, his head dropping for a second. Then—he lifted it, eyes locking onto yours, dark and unreadable.

“You wanna act clueless?” His voice was quiet, deadly. “Fine. I’ll make you understand.”

And then—

His mouth latched onto you.

A sharp, broken moan ripped out of your throat as his tongue flattened against your pussy, broad and hot and hungry. The first stroke was messy—desperate—his lips parting as he sucked at your clit, his nose pressing against your skin as he buried himself between your legs.

Your entire body jerked at the sudden intensity, your fingers flying to grip the cushions as a choked gasp left your lips. “S-San—!”

But he didn’t let up.

He was starving.

His tongue moved sloppy and wet, flicking against your clit before dragging down, tasting every inch of you. His groan was deep—needy—his hands tight on your thighs as he pushed them further apart, forcing you to take everything he was giving.

“Fuck,” he growled against your skin, his breath hot and ragged. “Taste so good, baby—fuck—”

His tongue delved into you, deep, his lips moving in frantic, desperate kisses against your heat. His nose nudged against your clit with every movement, sending sharp shocks of pleasure racing up your spine.

Your legs trembled, your hands flying to grip his hair, trying to pull him away—but he didn’t budge. If anything—

He groaned, his hands flying up to grab your wrists, pinning them to your stomach.

“Oh, no,” he murmured, voice wrecked, his lips dragging against your soaked skin. “You’re not stopping me.”

You whined, your hips jerking as his tongue circled your clit before sucking it hard into his mouth. Your vision blurred, a broken sob leaving your lips as pleasure shot through you, hot and searing.

“S-San—! Oh, fuck—”

His grip on your wrists tightened. “That’s what I wanna hear,” he groaned, his tongue pressing against your clit in slow, intentional circles. “Not that fake little innocent act. I wanna hear you beg.”

Your chest heaved, your fingers twitching in his grasp. “P-please—”

San moaned—loud, needy, his hips grinding against the couch as if he was getting off on this just as much as you.

“Fuck,” he panted, his lips dragging against your skin, his tongue dipping deep before flicking back up to circle your clit again. “Say it again.”

Your back arched, your legs shaking in his grasp. “San—please—”

He growled, his lips wrapping around your clit, sucking hard, his tongue flicking fast—and your entire body convulsed, a sharp cry ripping from your throat as the pleasure crashed through you, sudden and violent.

But he didn’t stop.

Even as your body twitched, even as your thighs trembled, even as your moans turned into desperate, choked whimpers—he kept going.

Over and over and over.

Rough. Messy. Unrelenting.

Your voice cracked, your hands struggling against his grip. “I-I can’t—!”

San moaned against your skin, his hips rolling again, his cock aching in his pants.

“Oh, baby,” he breathed, his tongue dragging against your heat, devouring you. “You can. And you will.”

San was a fucking menace.

You had no control anymore—your body was his to ruin, his to wreck, his to make completely fall apart beneath him. His hands were firm on your wrists, keeping you pinned to your own stomach, his tongue relentless as he ate you like a man possessed.

His desperation was palpable—in the way his lips sucked at your clit, in the way his tongue flicked fast and sloppy, in the way his hips kept grinding against the couch as if he was getting just as much pleasure from this as you were.

And the worst part?

He was.

“San—fuck—” Your voice was a broken whimper, your head thrown back against the cushions, body jerking with every frantic stroke of his tongue. “T-too much—”

San growled into you, the vibrations shaking through your core. His grip tightened on your wrists, forcing you to stay put as he dove back in, lips wrapping tight around your clit as he sucked hard—

Your vision whited out.

A sharp, guttural cry tore from your throat, your back arching clean off the couch as a second orgasm ripped through you, just as intense as the first.

But San—

San didn’t stop.

“F-fuck, San—!” Your voice was wrecked, your thighs trembling violently as his tongue kept flicking, kept circling, kept fucking devouring you.

He was insatiable.

“Taste so fucking good, baby—” he groaned, his voice wrecked, his mouth messy with you, his lips dragging sloppy kisses over your soaked skin. “Gonna make you cum for me again, yeah? Gonna let me ruin you?”

Your breath came out shaky, a mix of pleasure and overstimulation making your body jerk beneath him.

“C-can’t—” You whined, shaking your head, your fingers twitching in his grip. “San, please—”

San moaned against you, his hips rolling into the couch again, desperate, needy. “Mmm, baby,” he breathed, voice hoarse, lips shining with your slick as he glanced up at you. “You keep saying that, but you’re so fucking wet for me.”

His tongue dragged against your entrance before flicking up again, circling your clit in tight, fast motions. “Your pussy’s begging for me.”

Your body shuddered, a whimper leaving your lips. “S-San—”

His fingers squeezed your wrists, keeping them trapped. His eyes were dark, desperate—his own body trembling with restraint as he devoured you again, his tongue flicking faster, his lips sucking harder.

You were gone.

Pleasure built again, fast and merciless, your thighs shaking as San wrecked you with his mouth.

“That’s it, baby,” he groaned, tongue swirling sloppy and wet. “Cum for me again. I wanna feel it.”

Your body jerked, your voice breaking as your orgasm slammed into you—so hard, so intense it left you gasping for air, your fingers digging into the couch, your hips jerking against his mouth.

But even then—

San still wasn’t done.

His mouth was still messy against you, his lips still sucking, his tongue still fucking you, his own breath ragged, his cock so painfully hard in his sweatpants he could barely think straight.

His head lifted slightly, his tongue flicking against your clit in slow, precise strokes. And then—his voice, hoarse and wrecked.

“One more.”

You whimpered, your entire body shuddering beneath him.

San pressed a soft, wet kiss to your clit, his voice a rough whisper against your skin.

“I know you can take it.”

San was insatiable.

You were wrecked beneath him—your body trembling, your thighs shaking, your breath coming out in sharp, shallow gasps. Your brain was muddled, your skin burning hot, your core aching from the relentless pleasure he’d already given you.

But San?

San wasn’t done.

He refused to be done.

His mouth pressed another slow, wet kiss against your clit, his tongue flicking just enough to send a sharp jolt through your already sensitive body. Your legs twitched, your breath catching in your throat, a desperate whimper slipping past your lips.

San groaned at the sound, his hands tight on your thighs, keeping them spread as he dragged his tongue through your slick folds again—slow this time, teasing, torturing.

“F-fuck—San—” Your voice was broken, your fingers twitching against your stomach, where he still had them pinned.

San hummed against your skin, his lips curving slightly. His breath was warm, heavy with desire, his own body trembling with restraint. His hips twitched again, his cock so achingly hard beneath his sweatpants that you could feel his frustration radiating off of him.

But he wasn’t relieving himself.

No.

His only focus was you.

“I need one more,” he murmured against you, his lips pressing another sloppy kiss to your clit, his tongue flicking just right. “I need it, baby. I need to feel you break for me again.”

You whined, your head turning to the side, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as your body shuddered from the overstimulation.

“S-San—”

His fingers tightened on your thighs.

“You can take it,” he whispered, voice low and wrecked. “I know you can.”

And then—

His mouth latched onto your clit again, his tongue flicking fast, his lips sucking hard, his desperation coming out in the way he devoured you like a man starving.

Your body jerked, a sharp cry breaking from your lips as another wave of pure pleasure slammed into you—hot, intense, merciless.

San groaned, his hands shaking as he held you down, his tongue flicking, licking, sucking, taking everything he could—

And your body broke.

Your moan was raw, shattered, your legs trembling violently as the pleasure ripped through you one final time—so strong, so overwhelming that your vision blurred, your entire body going limp beneath him.

And finally—finally—San pulled away.

His breath was heavy, his lips wet, his face completely wrecked as he slowly lifted his head, his fingers still tight on your thighs. His pupils were blown, his skin flushed, his entire body trembling with restraint.

He was desperate.

Needy.

His cock was aching, straining against his sweatpants, his hips twitching with every deep breath he took.

And yet—

His eyes stayed on you.

A slow smirk curled his swollen lips.

“…Now,” he murmured, voice rough, low, dripping with satisfaction. “Be a good girl—”

His hands finally released your wrists, and one of them dragged down your body, warm and possessive, until his fingers pressed against your wrecked heat.

And then—

“And open that pretty little mouth for me.”

And he wasn’t waiting any longer.

His fingers curled around your jaw, his grip firm as he tilted your head up—forcing you to look at him. His eyes were dark, blown wide with lust, his lips parted, his breath coming out ragged.

“Open,” he rasped, his voice wrecked from how much he’d devoured you already.

You barely had a second to react before his thumb pushed against your bottom lip, coaxing your mouth open just enough—

And then—

San spit.

A hot, thick glob landed on your tongue, the sensation sending a sharp shock through your system, making your thighs clench, your body shudder beneath him.

San groaned, his grip tightening on your jaw, his cock twitching in his pants at the way you just took it—at the way your tongue glided against your bottom lip as you swallowed.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathed, his voice shaking with restraint. “You’re so good for me.”

His free hand shoved at his sweatpants, yanking them down just enough for his cock to spring free—thick, leaking, his tip an angry red from how long he’d been holding back.

He couldn’t wait anymore.

He needed your mouth.

“Tongue out,” he murmured, voice low, dark with hunger.

You obeyed without hesitation, your tongue flicking out just enough—

And San groaned, his hand wrapping around the base of his cock as he dragged the tip against your tongue, smearing his precum across it.

“Shit—” His breath shuddered, his hips twitching forward, his patience snapping all at once.

And then—

He pushed in.

Your mouth stretched around him, your throat constricting as he bottomed out in one slow, deep thrust, his cock pressing against the back of your throat, forcing a wet, choked gasp from your lips.

San moaned, his grip on your jaw tightening, his head dropping back for a second before his gaze snapped back down to you—watching as your lips stretched around him, your mouth completely full of his cock.

“Fucking—” His voice was wrecked, his hips trembling. “God, your mouth—so fucking perfect—”

And then—

He started to move.

Slow at first—teasing, dragging his cock out just enough before pushing back in, making sure you could feel every inch, every throb, every pulse of him against your tongue.

But then—

His restraint snapped.

His hips snapped forward, hard and desperate, forcing a wet, choked sound from your throat. His fingers dug into your jaw, holding you in place as he fucked into your mouth, deep, rough, his groans growing louder, needier.

“Fuck, baby—fuck—” he panted, his breath ragged, his hips snapping against your lips with each thrust. “Your mouth—so fucking good—so tight—”

Your throat constricted, your eyes watering from the sheer intensity of it—but San didn’t stop.

If anything—

He got rougher.

His pace quickened, his cock dragging against your tongue before slamming back in, his moans turning into needy, desperate growls. Spit dripped down your chin, your lips swollen, your breath coming out sharp through your nose as you tried to keep up with the way he was using your mouth.

And fuck—

He loved it.

“Look at you,” he groaned, his hand fisting your hair now, holding you in place as his cock slid deeper, making you gag around him. “Fucking messy for me. Taking it so good, baby—”

His hips stuttered, his breath hitching, his body tensing as he thrust in deep—

And then—

A low, wrecked moan tore from his throat as his cock pulsed, his cum spilling hot and thick down your throat.

He held you there, deep, making sure you took every drop, his fingers tight in your hair, his breath heavy as he watched you—your eyes teary, your lips puffy, your throat constricting as you swallowed everything he gave you.

San groaned, his entire body shuddering, his cock twitching one last time before he slowly pulled out, watching as a thin strand of spit and cum connected your lips to his tip.

His thumb wiped it away—only to push it back into your mouth, watching as your tongue flicked against the pad of his finger, as you sucked it in.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his voice shaky, his thumb stroking against your lip. “You’re so fucking good for me.”

His breathing was still ragged, his body still trembling—but even through his post-orgasm haze, even as his cock twitched from the sheer sensitivity—

His fingers dragged up your body again, slow, deliberate.

And then—

He smirked.

“Now,” he murmured, his voice low, dangerous.

“We’re not done yet.”

San’s breath was still shaky, his cock twitching against your skin even as he came down from his high—but fuck, it wasn’t enough.

Not even close.

His fingers twitched against your jaw, his thumb dragging over your spit-slicked lips, his eyes blown wide with hunger as he stared down at you. His body was still on fire, the heat curling deep in his gut, his cock already hardening again despite just having emptied himself down your throat.

His entire body ached with need.

He still wanted more.

And more.

His breath shuddered as his gaze dropped lower, trailing over your wrecked body, your thighs still trembling from the orgasms he’d already given you. His fingers ghosted over your stomach, down to your dripping heat, his jaw clenching at how soaked you still were.

“You’re so fucking ruined already,” he murmured, his voice low, rough, wrecked.

But his fingers pushed in anyway—two, then three, stretching you open again, making you gasp at the sudden intrusion. Your body arched into him, your breath coming out in a sharp, needy whimper, your walls clenching around his fingers as he started thrusting them in deep, slow.

His free hand gripped your thigh, spreading you wide, his lips parted, his eyes wild as he watched his fingers disappear into you, over and over and over again.

And then—

His cock twitched.

San groaned, his patience snapping all over again.

His fingers left you just as fast as they entered—only to be replaced by his cock, sliding between your folds, the tip smearing his precum along your entrance before he pushed in, slow, deep, stretching you all over again.

A sharp, broken moan tore from your lips, your back arching against the couch, your nails digging into the cushions as he bottomed out in one deep, desperate thrust.

San choked on a moan, his arms trembling as he held himself over you, his head dropping forward, his breath shaky against your skin.

“F-fuck,” he groaned, his voice shaking, his hands tightening on your thighs. “You’re—so tight, baby—so fucking wet—”

And then—

He snapped his hips forward.

A sharp cry ripped from your throat as his cock slammed into you, deep and hard, his grip unrelenting as he held you there, forcing you to take every inch, every pulse of him inside you.

And he didn’t stop.

His pace was brutal, his thrusts fast, his body shuddering with pleasure as he pounded into you, his voice breaking into low, needy moans with every sharp snap of his hips.

“Fucking—shit—” San’s voice was wrecked, his head dropping to your shoulder, his hands gripping your hips so tight they were bound to leave bruises. “Feel so fucking good, baby—feel so tight around me—”

Your moans were shattered, your entire body jerking with the force of his thrusts, your mind already melting from how deep he was, from how ruthlessly he was fucking into you.

And fuck—he was losing himself.

His hands suddenly flipped you, pressing your chest into the couch, his weight caging you beneath him as he thrust back in, his moan ragged, wrecked, completely fucked out.

“You wanted this, huh?” he growled against your ear, his hips snapping against your ass, his cock hitting that spot deep inside you over and over and over again. “Wanted me to fuck you like this? Use you like this?”

Your moan came out choked, your fingers digging into the couch, your body completely fucked out beneath him.

San groaned, his teeth sinking into your shoulder, his body shaking as his cock twitched inside you, his thrusts growing sloppy, desperate.

“Gonna cum—” His voice was wrecked, his hands trembling against your skin, his pace quickening, snapping into you harder, deeper— “Fuck, fuck, fuck—”

His hips jerked, his cock pulsing as he spilled inside you, hot and thick, his moan shattered as his body shuddered against yours.

But even then—

Even after he’d emptied himself inside you, even after he’d fucked you to the point of exhaustion—

San didn’t stop.

His cock was still hard. His breath was still shaky.

He was still aching for more.

His arms wrapped around you suddenly, flipping you back onto your back, his lips crashing against yours as his cock thrust back into you—

And he groaned, deep and wrecked, his hands gripping your body, his hips rolling into yours again, his body shuddering from the overstimulation, from the sheer desperation consuming him.

San’s body was burning.

Every inch of him was on fire, his skin too hot, his breath too shaky, his cock still throbbing inside you even after he had already cum so hard his vision had blurred.

But it wasn’t enough.

It would never be enough.

His hands were everywhere—gripping, grasping, trembling as they explored every inch of your wrecked, sensitive body. His fingers dug into your hips, dragging you up against him, his breath shuddering as he felt just how soaked you still were, how your slick was dripping down his thighs, how your body trembled beneath him.

And fuck—he needed more.

His lips crashed against your neck, sucking, biting, devouring as his hands spread your thighs wide, his hips grinding against yours, his cock pulsing inside you.

“Shit—” His voice was wrecked, his grip tightening on your body. “You’re so fucking wet, baby—so messy for me—”

And then—

His fingers slid between your legs, pressing against your clit, rubbing fast, sloppy, his cock still deep inside you, stretching you so perfectly you could barely breathe.

Your body jerked, a sharp, broken moan tearing from your throat as his fingers played with you, as his cock twitched inside you, as his breath came out in needy, desperate little gasps.

“Gimme—gimme another one, baby—” His voice was pleading, desperate, his pace quickening, his touch growing rougher, sloppier. “Just one more—fuck, just—please—”

And then—

Your body snapped.

A sharp cry tore from your lips as your orgasm crashed over you again, your thighs trembling, your vision blurring as you gushed all over him, soaking his thighs, his cock, his stomach—everything.

San choked on a moan, his head dropping against your shoulder, his body shuddering as he felt you squirt all over him, felt how wrecked you were, how completely ruined you were beneath him.

And fuck—

He still wasn’t done.

His hands dragged down your body, his fingers trembling as they gripped your thighs, his lips brushing against your temple as he whispered, shaky, needy—

“Baby, I need—” His voice broke, his breath ragged, his cock twitching inside you. “I need you again—”

His hips snapped forward, deep, his cock dragging against your sensitive walls, his hands grasping, clutching, desperate as he fucked into you again, as if he hadn’t already ruined you.

His voice was pleading, his hands shaking, his lips trailing down your skin as he whispered, begged—

“Just one more, baby—just—just one more—”

His skin was burning, his body shaking, his cock aching—but fuck, he still wasn’t satisfied. His lips were glossy with spit, his thighs soaked from how many times you’d already squirted all over him, his breath coming out in needy, ragged little moans as he panted against your skin.

And you?

You were just as wrecked.

Your body was limp beneath him, your voice hoarse from how many times you’d already screamed his name, your legs trembling as he pushed them apart yet again, refusing to let you close up, refusing to let you hide from him.

His fingers gripped your thighs, spreading you wide, his breath shuddering at the sight of your dripping, swollen cunt, slick and messy from everything he’d already done to you.

And fuck—he still wanted more.

His cock throbbed, his mouth watering as he lowered himself between your legs again, his hands grasping, clutching at your thighs, his lips brushing against your soaked heat as his voice came out shaky, wrecked—

“Baby, I need—” His voice broke, his breath hot against your skin. “I need to taste you again—”

And before you could even process it—

His tongue was on you.

A sharp, choked gasp tore from your lips as his mouth latched onto you, his tongue sliding between your folds, his lips wrapping around your clit as he sucked, hard.

“San—!” Your voice cracked, your fingers jerking into his hair, tugging, pulling—but he didn’t care. He growled against you, his arms tightening around your thighs, locking you in place as he devoured you, as if he was starving, as if he’d die if he didn’t have you.

And fuck—he was so messy about it.

His tongue was sloppy, wet, licking and lapping at your cunt like he couldn’t get enough, like he needed you more than air itself. Spit and slick were everywhere, coating his lips, dripping down his chin, mixing with the wetness already soaking his thighs.

And fuck, he loved it.

His hands dug into your hips, pulling you against his face, his moans vibrating against your heat, his cock twitching between his legs as he grinded against the couch, so fucking needy, so fucking wrecked just from tasting you.

“San—fuck, fuck—” Your breath was ragged, your fingers clutching at the sheets, your body jerking with every sharp flick of his tongue. “You’re so—so messy—”

San groaned, his hips grinding harder against the couch, his hands shaking as he dragged his tongue down, circling your entrance, his voice coming out slurred, wrecked—

“Can’t—can’t help it, baby—” His tongue pushed in, fucking into you, his moan shattering as he felt you clench around him, as he felt your thighs shake, your body trembling beneath his touch.

And then—

“Gonna make you squirt again,” he murmured, his breath shaky, his tongue pulling out just to be replaced by his fingers, two—then three, stretching you wide, fucking into you deep, his mouth still latched onto your clit, sucking, moaning, ruining you all over again.

Your moans turned shattered, your body jerking, your hands gripping his hair so tight it should’ve hurt—but fuck, he loved it.

And then—

You snapped.

A sharp, choked scream ripped from your throat as your orgasm crashed over you, your body jerking, your back arching as you gushed all over his face, soaking his lips, his chin, his throat.

San moaned, deep and wrecked, his hips twitching, his cock aching as he fucked his fingers into you, forcing more out of you, watching as you dripped down his arms, as your thighs shook, as your entire body gave out beneath him.

But even then—

Even after he had licked you clean, even after he had made you cum so hard you could barely breathe—

San still wasn’t done.

His cock was throbbing, his body aching, his hands gripping your thighs as he flipped you over, his voice ragged, wrecked, pleading—

“Just one more, baby—” His breath was shaky, his cock pressing against your entrance, still soaked with your slick, your juices still dripping down his thighs. “Just—just one more—”

And then—

He slammed into you, hard, deep, his moan breaking as his cock dragged against your oversensitive walls, as your body clenched around him, as he lost himself in you all over again.

And fuck—

He was never stopping.

Your limbs were twitching, your skin burning, your mind completely blank from how many times San had already fucked the breath from your lungs. Your thighs were sticky with slick, your body completely boneless beneath him, your voice hoarse from all the screams he’d already pulled from you.

But San?

San was a wreck.

His body was shaking, his chest heaving, his cock still twitching inside you, still aching, still so desperate for more. His fingers clutched at your waist, trembling, his lips dragging against your cheek, his breath hot and shaky, his voice coming out wrecked, pleading—

“Baby, please—” His voice broke, his hands shaking as they gripped you tighter, his lips feathering over your jaw, your ear, your throat—begging.

You whimpered, barely able to move, barely able to breathe, your body too sensitive, too wrecked to even process the words properly.

“San—I can’t—” Your voice was shaky, barely even a whisper, your hands weakly pressing against his chest, trying to stop him, trying to make him listen. “I—I can’t take anymore—”

San whined.

A deep, desperate, completely wrecked little sound, his entire body shuddering, his hands gripping you tighter, his lips pressing against your throat, begging, pleading—

“Baby—please—” His voice was strained, so wrecked that he could barely form words, his body so desperate that he was practically vibrating with need. “I need you—fuck, I need to feel you again—”

His hips jerked, his cock twitching inside you, still so hard, still aching for more, still so needy that it physically hurt.

“Just—just let me, baby—” His voice cracked, his breath hot against your skin, his hands still clutching at you, his body still begging even though he already knew your answer.

And then—

His hips pressed in.

Deep.

Slow.

And you gasped, your body jerking, your thighs trembling as he pushed himself inside you again, his cock stretching your already wrecked, overworked walls, making you feel every inch of him, making you take him whether you could handle it or not.

“San—stop—” Your voice broke, a sharp, shaky gasp leaving your lips as your nails dug into his skin, your body twitching from the overwhelming sensitivity.

He didn’t stop.

He couldn’t.

His breath was shaky, his voice cracking, his body shuddering as he buried himself inside you again, whimpering, his hips rolling, his hands gripping your thighs as he forced you to take him.

And fuck—he was crying.

Tears were stinging his eyes, his moans high, wrecked, his body completely losing control as he fucked into you, desperate, starved, whining with every thrust.

“Baby—fuck, I—I can’t stop—” His voice was strained, shaking, his breath ragged as he buried his face into your neck, his hands trembling as he held onto you, as he kept moving, as he kept fucking you even when you were already gone.

Your body jerked, a sharp, choked cry leaving your lips as another orgasm ripped through you, so strong, so shattering that your vision blurred, your body convulsing, your mind blanking out from how fucking wrecked you were.

And he followed right after.

A sharp, wrecked moan broke from his lips as his hips snapped, as his cock throbbed, as he spilled inside you all over again, so deep, so full, his release mixing with the mess already dripping between your thighs.

His entire body shuddered, his breath gasping, his hands clutching at you like he never wanted to let go.

And even after—

Even when his body was completely spent, when he was too wrecked to even move—

San was still inside you.

Still deep, still full, still holding on like he couldn’t bear to be apart from you.

And his voice?

It was weak, whispered, still shaky from everything he had just done.

But it was real.

It was raw.

“Baby…” A deep, shaky breath left him, his lips brushing against your temple, his arms still wrapped around you, still clutching onto you like you were the only thing keeping him sane.

“I—I love you.”

You didn’t know what to say.

Your heart was pounding, your breath shaky, your body still aching in the best possible way—but your mind was a fucking mess.

San wasn’t supposed to say that.

This wasn’t supposed to be love.

This was supposed to be a one-time thing, a secret indulgence, something you’d both pretend never happened in the morning.

But now—

Now, San was looking at you like you meant something.

Like you weren’t just the girl next door who had accidentally drugged him with aphrodisiac cookies.

Like you weren’t just someone he fucked senseless on the living room couch.

Like you were his.

And the worst part?

You wanted to be, badly.

“San…” Your voice was weak, your fingers shaky as they traced over his jaw, your heart twisting in your chest as you looked at him—really looked at him.

His eyes were red-rimmed, still glassy from how hard he had come, his lips were kiss-swollen, his hair was a mess, sticking to his damp forehead.

And he looked so fucking beautiful.

So wrecked.

So vulnerable.

So in love.

And it fucking terrified you.

Because if you let yourself believe it—

If you let yourself have him—

You didn’t think you’d ever be able to let him go.

“…Say it again.”

San’s breath hitched.

His fingers tightened on your waist, his lips parting slightly, his eyes widening just a fraction—

And then, in a voice so soft, so reverent, so raw it sent a fucking shiver down your spine—

“I love you.”

His breath was still shaky, his body still pressed against yours, his fingers still gripping your waist like he was afraid you’d disappear. His heart was pounding, his lips parted, his eyes locked onto you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded.

You could feel everything.

The heat of his skin, the way his chest rose and fell against yours, the way his cock was still inside you, still keeping you full, still reminding you exactly what just happened between you.

But none of that compared to the way he was looking at you.

Like he was afraid of what you’d say.

Like he already knew he had ruined everything.

Like he was begging for you to fix it.

And fuck—

You wanted to.

But you were terrified.

Because this wasn’t just about sex anymore.

This was real.

"Baby…” His voice was barely a whisper, his fingers trembling as he reached for your cheek, his touch so gentle, so careful—like he was scared he’d break you. “Please… say something.”

You swallowed hard, your throat tight, your mind still spinning from everything—the way he had taken you, the way he had begged for you, the way he had said those words like they had been burning in his chest for so fucking long.

And maybe they had been.

Maybe you had just been too blind to see it.

Your lips parted, a shaky breath leaving them, your heart twisting as you met his gaze—those deep, desperate brown eyes, searching yours for something, anything to hold onto.

Your fingers curled into his hair, your chest tightening, your voice small as you finally, finally whispered—

“…You love me?”

San’s breath hitched.

His grip on your waist tightened, his lips parting, his entire body trembling as he swallowed hard, his voice so wrecked, so raw when he answered—

“I do.”

No hesitation.

No doubt.

Just San, stripped bare in front of you, exposed, vulnerable, completely yours.

And something inside you fucking snapped.

Because he meant it.

Because you had wanted this for so fucking long, wanted him for so fucking long—and now, he was right here, saying the words you never thought you’d hear, giving himself to you completely.

And you couldn’t stop yourself.

You grabbed him, your lips crashing into his, your fingers clutching at his hair, pulling him closer, deeper, letting him feel everything you couldn’t say yet.

He broke apart in your arms.

A shaky, wrecked moan slipped from his throat as he melted into you, his hands gripping you like you were the only thing keeping him alive, his body pressing you deeper into the couch, his kiss so needy, so desperate, so full of love that it made your chest ache.

And when he pulled back, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath hot against your lips, his voice still shaking—

“Say it back.”

Your heart stopped.

San’s fingers tightened on your waist, his breath ragged, his lips brushing against yours as he whispered again, this time more pleading, more wrecked—

“Baby, please… say it back.”

And you could feel it—

The way his hands shook, the way his body tensed, the way his eyes were glossy with something he was trying so fucking hard to hold back—

The way he needed this more than anything.

And fuck—

You did too.

Your fingers brushed over his cheek, your lips trembling, your heart pounding as you finally, finally let the words slip out—

“I love you.”

A sharp, shuddering breath left him, his lips crashing into yours again, his hands everywhere—on your face, your waist, your thighs—like he was memorizing you, like he never wanted to let go.

Like he never would.

And maybe, just maybe—

Neither would you.

#ateez #ateez fic #ateez smut #smut #choi san #san imagines #san ateez #san fic #san smut #san scenarios #san x reader

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archangeldyke-all · 8 months ago

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Sevika and reader being grumbly whiskey aunts together!!!

They just want to sit on their porch together. <3

this is EVERYTHING to me

men and minors dni

you spend your evenings on your screened-in front porch, passing a smoke back and forth, one of you occasionally getting up to grab fresh drinks and snacks from the house.

you're both total grumps, but the kids (vander and silco's ofc) know that if they're ever in trouble, the first house to call is their aunts'.

lmaoooo now i'm imagining jinx calling you for a ride home from a party she shouldn't be at-- and you and sevika showing up to pick her up-- grinding and making out in front of all her friends just so she learns her lesson adkfj;laskjd

over the years, you've hosted the kids in your house for all kinds of reasons. claggor spent a month living with you guys when the three little kids were bogged down with a flu they kept passing around. in a rebellion against his dads' video games ban on him after they caught him smoking weed at fourteen, mylo and his xbox moved in with the two of you. jinx and vi come over for 'girl nights' all the time when they're growing up, and when violet gets laid off from her first job, she crashes with the two of you until she can get back on her feet.

they're the only kids you tolerate though. neighborhood kids are terrified of you and sevika-- both of you are total grumps, and little slayer and sugar are the exact same.

(but you make up for your bad reputation in the neighborhood on halloween-- you're always the house that gives out full sized candy bars.)

your elderly neighbors though? they love you and sevika.

they appreciate that you're just as grumpy as them. they always wave to you from their porches, where they sit every evening along with you guys. they like that you don't give a shit about the home owners association, and that sevika sometimes even does shit just to piss them off. (she painted your fence hot pink after being told by the HOA that the natural wood needed to be painted white. she earned the hearts of all your grumpy old neighbors with that move.)

as a result, you're always being given plates of cookies and pans of casseroles by the old ladies in the neighborhood, the old men are always coming over to share a smoke with sevika and exchange books, gardening tips, and garage tools. (you and sevika repay their hospitality by shoveling their sidewalks and raking their leaves for them in the shitty weather.)

you're constantly being told by old folks that you're 'the nicest lesbians we've ever met.'

sevika always laughs at this, then asks how many lesbians they have met. the answer is always just the two of you.

(one time, though, a little old lady informs you that her granddaughter is a lesbian 'just like you two,' and that she was so happy when she came out to her because 'you'll be just like my lovely neighbors!' this one makes you cry... and even sevika tears up a bit.)

in the summer, you've got a big fan you can flick on to keep you cool on your porch.

in the winter, you've got a little space heater you can pull closer to your matching rocking chairs.

after a few years, sevika even builds you an outside bed, so that after an evening of drinking whiskey and sharing a joint you can cuddle in each other's arms outside and listen to the crickets and frogs chirping before heading in for the evening.

your porch is your favorite little spot in the whole wide world. sevika's planted a jungle of plants surrounding it, and it's like your little oasis from the real world. you've got christmas lights strung around the ceiling that stay up all year long, lighting the porch when the sun finally sets. you've got dog and cat beds scattered everywhere so your animals can join you. there's ash trays, pipes, books, and bottles littered everywhere, and there's always at least a dozen potted plants scattered around inside your little sanctuary.

it's heaven.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @realgreeniebeanie @k3n-dyll

@sevsdollette @ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 10 months ago

Text

🧁 cupcake analysis 🧁

YES, YOU READ THAT CORRECTLY 🤡 I’m still fixated on the cute character-themed cupcakes we got from the recent TsumTsums x TWST collab… so I’m going to talk about more things I noticed in the cupcake designs by dorm + by individual characters!

Mmm, cupcakes… 🧁 I would make these if only I had the tools to make all of the painstaking little details—

Heartslabyul

They all have checkered cupcake liners with a half-painted white rose. Famous Heartslabyul iconography!

Their names are written out in a white cursive font. Not the wackiest they could have gone with, but it fits the whimsical style of these cupcakes.

Riddle

Of course, we have strawberries—a fruit from Riddle’s favorite dessert, his beloved strawberry tarts (which also have personal significance to him, being as it was a strawberry tart’s taste that entranced him and made him late to return home as a child). The ring of frosting piped around the strawberries kind of creates the illusion of a tart’s puff pastry with the fruit nesting inside.

Red frosting made with a piping tip to resemble a big rose! Again, more famous Heartslabyul iconography.

IT HAS RIDDLE’S HEART AHOGE 😭

The cupcake also has the crown and a ribbon similar to the ones he wears in his Dorm Uniform~

Unlike the other Heartslabyul cupcakes, Riddle’s is predominantly one color: red. This could be referring to how Riddle is the most rigid in the dorm and someone who demands uniformity and preaches absolutism (“follow the rules”, “paint all the roses red”, etc.).

Even so! There are still little gold and blue sprinkles (though still in a neat arrangement)! I like to think of them as sprinkles of hope and a willingness to change… the first step he’s taking outside of his comfort zone!

No card; this makes sense since Riddle is also the only one without a card suit mark on his face.

Trey

The cookie iced to look like his hat…

Another cookie iced to look like the three of clubs heart (for obvious reasons)!

Trey’s cupcake looks kinda fuzzy like moss, so that leads me to believe the frosting got dipped in sanding sugar to give it texture or something. This makes the cupcake look like it’s an unassuming shrub—and really, isn’t that what Trey claims to be? He’s not an exciting red rose like Riddle, he’s the mild-mannered “normal” guy there to support the flower as the leaves and shoots.

Sugared violets as a topping! Nice way of incorporating Trey’s favorite food into this.

He has a little dusting of sprinkles too; maybe because it was him that showed Riddle “a whole new world”.

There seems to be a layer of jagged chunks (maybe crushed pistachios) along the rim. Feels quite different than the rest of the cake—maybe it’s to represent the less kind side of himself that Trey sometimes alludes to.

Two cookie sticks, which remind me of like two spears crossing to block off a path to the queen. On-brand for Trey, who initially follows Riddle’s orders to a T and kicks out his rule-breaking underclassmen.

Cater

There’s a LOT going on here, and I wonder if that’s in part because Cater is a Magicam fiend and in part because he’s using his flashiness to distract from looking deeper into him. This cupcake reflects that idea well, especially with the colorful sprinkles in the center (as opposed to spread out like Trey or Riddle’s) to make the otherwise mainly orange and red cake pop out more on a social media feed. It also could mean that Cater really keeps to himself, as the sprinkles are not spread outward.

If you look closely, the frosting vaguely resembles Cater’s hair. There’s a larger dollop in the middle which sort of looks like the middle section of his hair that’s pulled back.

There’s lots of little decorations that resembles the decorations on Cater’s phone case—an item near and dear to his heart.

The orange slices can be sweet—the impression that Cater tries to give off—but the pretzel implies a savory taste—what he actually prefers to eat.

There’s a squiggle of darker orange under his name. Is it to call attention to his identity? Cater tries to seek validation and attention from socials, so maybe this is a call to action.

Cater’s cupcake is the only one in his entire dorm that has TWO cards (both four of diamonds). One is probably a cookie and is in full color whole the other is one solid color (brown) and made of chocolate. Most likely this is referring to his UM, which allows Cater to create clones of himself. I wonder if the second card being chocolate alludes to something else too… Namely, the more melancholy and downtrodden part of himself that Cater usually does not let his peers know about 😔

Also two cookie sticks! Similar meaning as Trey’s, especially given that Cater was the first upperclassman to toss Adeuce out (after he gets them to paint the roses for him).

Ace

Ace of hearts card!

A sprinkle of hearts… Are any of us surprised??

His frosting is very ruffled and playful, much like his personality.

The cupcake is more on the simple side compared to many of the others; this is also very “Ace” of him, as Ace is commonly described as “the average high school boy” and has indicated himself that he has no particular goals or ambitions yet.

There’s a cherry on top! Very bright and cheeky, just like Ace—oh, and let’s not forget, cherry pie is his favorite food!

There’s also what appears to be almond shavings on Ace’s cupcake; almonds are actually very closely related to cherries so it’s a great pairing! If we really wanna stretch it, maybe it’s a reference to how Ace is skilled at mimicking or copying others, as the taste/smell of almond and cherries can be commonly mistaken for one another.

Deuce

Two of spades card!

Deuce’s cupcake has a very different texture to it. Unlike the others, his is very smoothed out and almost shiny (like a mirror glazed cake!). It makes me think this is to help him stand out as someone who is trying to reform and reinvent himself into something sparkling—especially seeing as the blue part of the cake seems to be covering up/glooping over the body of the cupcake itself.

Little candy eggs (one with a crack in it) and a baby chick! A callback to him liking egg dishes and the utter despair he experienced when he first learned that supermarket eggs aren’t fertilized…

The light blue squiggle makes me think of Deuce meandering and not knowing where he wants to go in life, representative of his delinquent phase or perhaps struggling to stay on the straight and narrow path of an honors student.

Finally, we have the grey marks on the cupcake which look like tire marks left from skidding around on a magical wheel/blastcycle, Deuce’s preferred mode of transportation!

Deuce's cupcake goes from blonde/yellowish to blue, which probably refers to him going from bleached hair as a delinquent to his natural hair color as he tries to reform himself.

Savanaclaw

Golden yellow cupcake liners with Savanaclaw’s signature horizontal zigzag pattern.

Their names seem to be done in a blocky text on chocolate. Fits the tough, somewhat rigid hierarchical feel of the dorm.

Leona

A crescent moon-shaped candy invokes the imagery of Scar singing the final line to Be Prepared as he and the hyenas ready themselves for the coup.

The darker frosting swirled on the side be interpreted as his scar or maybe the end of his tail.

Cacao nibs kind of remind me of rocks, perhaps to symbolize the hard childhood Leona had, desperately trying to prove himself to people who didn’t like him in the first place. There’s notably also golden specks there—a ray of hope for him to be better? Or maybe a nod to his noble lineage.

The chocolate sauce makes this cupcake feel very decadent but also adds to the dark look of it. I would say it resembles blot, but none of the other OB boys have this same feature. Maybe a hint at Leona’s depressive traits?

Wishful thinking on my part, but Leona’s cupcake is the only one in his dorm with a large splash of green (thanks to the leaves there). I like to think it’s him “turning over a new leaf” and turning his sights onto his internship + working toward helping to help preserve nature and discover energy efficient methods to help his country.

His cupcake is the “tallest” in Savanaclaw (because of how high his frosting is)—he’s obviously the leader of the pack.

Ruggie

Very decadent cupcake. A large scoop of ice-cream, nuts, pastries, tons of cream and frosting… it looks like someone just piled on all their favorite desserts (which suits a glutton like him). Even his own cake looks like it’s about to burst out of the liner!

Two donuts inserted in, because 1) they’re Ruggie’s favorite and 2) two is better than one!

The scattered chunks of chocolate resemble the pattern on the coat of a spotted hyena, which is what Ruggie is.

Jack

WHY DOES HIS CUPCAKE JUST STRAIGHT UP LOOK LIKE HIM… The two paler frosting peaks are his ears, the two-tone swirl results in his hair but also results in the high peak of his tail.

This cupcake has a lot of nuts (I see a walnut, a cashew, maybe crushed peanuts, and many whole hazelnuts). Maybe because Jack is “a tough nut to crack” due to his stoic and standoffish attitude? But we all know he’s a sweetheart deep down, perhaps why the most abundant of these nuts is hazelnuts, often used in many desserts and especially paired with chocolate.

xvsjwveiwk This is a slightly unserious note but there’s something whitish that night be dried coconut??? Sprinkled on the cake… I-Is that Jack shedding/j

Octavinelle

Each Octavinelle cupcake has a black macaron decorated to resemble their dorm uniform hats! The filling is purple (like Octa’s usual color) and has candy pearls (since they’re from the sea).

Their names are written in an elegant flowing font, with emphasis on the first letter of their names (slightly bigger than the other letters). It provides an impression that differs from the other letters in their names, much like how the Octatrio themselves can be deceptive.

A bowtie that matches what each boy wears in his dorm uniform.

The sprinkling of little purple pearls could really be nothing, but they could also be all the powers/abilities they have collected together.

Azul

The single chocolate stick (not two, unlike Cater and Trey’s) could pass as a straw, making the whole cupcake appear like a drink. Makes sense, the Mostro Lounge has a 1 drink minimum + his Dorm Uniform vignette is all about how he wants to buy the rights for the popular Mystery Drink from Sam.

A little contract and writhing chocolate tentacles pair nicely together. Together, they represent his UM and how his tendrils reach out to pull people into deals.

Azul also has a scoop of ice-cream, but it is notably VERY different looking than Ruggie’s. Azul’s is much smaller (because he moderates what he eats and how much) and neater too (because he cares about his tidy appearance).

There is a swirl of purple frosting on the bottom but most of the frosting is white and piled high. The former must be Ursula’s skin, and the latter her hair, as it is similar in shape.

His cupcake liner has the widest stripes (because he used to be overweight in the past) and has little purple dots (maybe in reference to the suctions on his tentacles).

Azul keeps the spiral seashell that resembles Ursula’s necklace.

Azul's cupcake goes from purple to white, which may denote his transition from octopus merman to human.

Tweels

The twins have a scalloped seashell that splits in half, representing the other brother. The way the shell divets also makes it look like a heart shape, implying the brothers “share a heart” or perhaps calling back to how both of their UMs involve “the heart” (Shock/Bind the Heart).

Their frosting is the color of their hair, even containing a stripe of black (in opposite directions) to match their hair. The frosting also seems to be slightly textured, which matches the gills and scales on their merforms.

The peak of the frosting resembles the ends of their eel tails flicking in opposite directions.

Three diamond-shaped “scales” on each cupcake; this is ghe same shape and design as the earrings they wear.

A ring of purple frosting is included; this could represent Azul, someone whom the twins closely work with and consider a great source of amusement. It’s telling that the purple frosting is below the teal frosting, as the twins have made it clear before that they’re not his minions or “below” him, they act independently and choose to follow Azul because they want to (and have the agency to leave whenever).

Jade

Jade’s cupcake liner has the most numerous and thinnest vertical stripes. There is also a very fine zigzag running through the liner. Very similar to Jade’s teeth arrangement and how they present as small but frequent.

Jade's cupcake stays a consistent color throughout the creation process.

Floyd

Floyd’s cupcake liner is in the middle of Azul and Jade’s in terms of line spread and thickness. The zigzag is also more elongated than Jade’s, matching Floyd’s more easygoing personality between the two twins. He’s also more likely to show his full teeth!

Floyd's cupcake goes from gold to teal, but Jade does not do the same or even the reverse. Maybe this hints at how Floyd is the more fickle brother?

Scarabia

Scarabia cupcake liners are color blocked with solid black and a deep red with an intricate golden pattern. Matches their dorm uniforms well!

They have snake biscuits with their names in bold, blocky all capital letters for impact. The biscuit shape suits the Sorcerer of the Sands. The text choice… I’m not sure, maybe to match the “casual streetwear” style of the dorm…? Or the dorm leader’s brazenness and overt friendliness?

Kalim

His earrings have been made into an edible version!

Thumbprint cookies that resemble glistening jewels! This, plus the colorful sugar pearls, represents Kalim’s immense wealth.

There’s a bow tied around his cupcake liner, which matches the cloth he wears around his head in many outfits of his.

The feathers that transition in color are for Kalim’s love of animals and willingness to accept others of all kinds (“colors”). This could also be a reference to his Dorm Uniform vignettes, where he pulled off a trick that made white birds appear to be “rainbow”.

At first I thought the white puffy frosting was to look like the Sultan’s turban, but wouldn’t they make it smoother and resemble one cohesive lump in that case…? Then I realized the white frosting actually resembles a CLOUD 😭 which fits Kalim so well, since he takes his friends out on magic carpet rides…

The red peak poking out of the top could be like… the domed roof of a tower, since there is one both for the Sultan’s palace and in Scarabia dorm. The white sprinkles/coconut shreds on the red part also gives the impression that the roof just poked through the clouds www

VERY tiny detail but if you look closely you’ll notice that Kalim’s cupcake is… lumpy… almost as though he tried baking for the first time himself and messed it up a little, so Jamil took over decorating for him to cover up the mistakes. (That’s headcanon anyway, lol)

Jamil

Jamil’s cupcake is a two-tone twirl thar matches the colors of his dorm AND the turban he wears when he overblots.

We have the classic red feather, three golden orbs, and a thumprint cookie (again, resembling a jewel) to match Kalim’s and to match Jamil’s hair accessories!

The little bits of gold sprinkled around are hard to place but maybe it’s to show how Jamil has to put Kalim first and foremost while his own feelings get dismissed/belittled/treated as less important.

Large chunks of chocolate on top! Not sure what this could be, but a part of me wants to believe it’s his depressive or defeatist traits, since Leona also has chocolate, but scattered. (Can you tell I loved these two’s interactions in book 6?)

Finally, we come to the enigmatic and out-of-place golden squiggle. Someone as meticulous as Jamil couldn’t possibly have intentionally placed that there, right…? Allow me, if you will, to circle back to the “Kalim was trying to bake with Jamil” theory… What if, while Jamil was decorating Kalim’s cupcake to cover up the unevenness of the cake, Kalim tried to thank Jamil and repay the favor by decorating Jamil’s cupcake??? And it resulted in… that squiggle… so Jamil had to roll with it and make the rest of his cupcake look as aesthetically pleasing as possible.

Pomefiore

All Pomefiore names are written in elegant script on a chocolate disc that is also stamped with the stars and moons of their dorm.

The cupcake liners have the same stars and moons pattern and has the colors of Pomefiore.

Vil

Similar to Riddle, Vil has a crown to show that he is the dorm leader. His is, of course, a different design to reflect a different queen (the Fairest Queen, not the Queen of Hearts).

The frosting has a slight gradient which is the same as the tips his hair.

The golden leaves match the leaves on the back of his dorm leader tiara/crown.

There are berries on top; notably, a red one still has a bit of leaf and branch stuck to it, making the berry look like a red apple (you know, cuz the Evil Queen used one to poison Snow White).

Vil has golden dust and two types of round candies evenly dispersed on the cupcake. It shows us how clean and yet elegant his personal style is.

Rook

Rook's cupcake has a very unique shape that is not quite like any other student's. Indeed, his cupcake resembles his hat (note the little feather sticking out of the top purple part) and bangs (the lower yellow part).

The purple part looks like it is made with an extruder and results in a texture similar to the top of a mont blanc; this is probably to help differentiate it from the smoother texture of the yellow beneath. Since the purple is a hat, the texture is most likely to make it seem more "fabric-like".

The yellow part + the color change from yellow to purple may also be a reference to how he was originally in Savanaclaw, but then transferred to Pomefiore.

An edible bow and arrow motif befitting of a skilled huntsman!

The squiggle line here seems to be showing the path of his arrow, which always finds its mark. Additionally, Rook himself is a tricky person and usually employs roundabout strategies or misdirecting ways to achieve his goals.

At the end of the arrow's path is a cluster of what seems to be pomegranate seeds, which seems odd and something more befitting of Idia or Ortho (who have ties with Hades; there is a tale about Hades having Persephone eat a pomegranate fruit which dooms her to spending half of her time in the Underworld). However, I think here the pomegranate seeds are meant to be... like... an artistic, abstract depiction of blood once the arrow strikes its target.

There's blueberries on top, an element he has in common with Vil (someone whom he devotes himself to). The leaves here with the berries tie Rook to the wild, both as a huntsman and has an ex-Savanaclaw student.

Epel

The pale purple color of the frosting is the same as Epel’s hair!

Unlike Vil’s sprinkled-on decorations, Epel’s are not spread out evenly and instead cluster at the top. This may be attributed to their different levels of maturity, as Vil and more knowledgable than Epel, who expresses outdated views on gender and has a limited understanding of the world due to coming from a very rural area.

There’s a fine shimmer on Epel’s cupcake—probably because his arc in book 5 was about learning to appreciate and weaponize his beauty.

Two apple slices because… well, when you think of Epel, you think of apples and the Felmier family business!

There seems to be a little bit of yellow peaking out from the cake? Are those more apple slices or an apple filling…?

The pale frilled strip of frosting resembles a lace collar, something which Epel wears in his school uniform.

Epel is the only member of Pomefiore to have a cupcake which LACKS a blueberry (or really any berries at all). This is a subtle indication that he is the “odd one out” within the dorm, as he, unlike Rook, is not conforming to the standards set by his dorm leader.

Ignihyde

The Ignihyde cupcake liner has the same black and blue geometric look as their dorm uniform jackets.

I don’t know how to really describe the font their names are written in, but the way the letters are cut reminds me of a “Greek” style of text (similar to this).

Their names seem to be displayed on Oreos chocolate sandwich cookies with Ignihyde blue fillings. Counting the parts (2 cookies, the cream filling), there’s three in total, which matches the count of the heads of Cerberus, as well as how many Shroud brothers there are.

Both Idia and Ortho have what look to be confetti cakes as the base for their cupcakes, Because of the dark color of the cake and the bright color of the sprinkles, it creates the impression of stars in the night sky—maybe to reference Star Rogue, their favorite video game.

Idia

The skull-shaped technomantic device Ida uses to launch his magic spells tops off his cupcake.

On either side of the skull device are candies (?) that look like the same light sticks Idia is super into waving around at his beloved idols’ concerts.

The blue frosting is meant to look like his fiery hair!

Idia’s cupcake goes from a red gradient to a blue one. His hair actually goes change color like this based (on his mood), We’ve seen his hair go from blue to red from anger and/or determination and passion in both book 7 and in his Dorm Uniform vignettes.

Ortho

This cupcake seems to represent both the deceased Ortho and the current android Ortho.

Not sure what it is, but there’s something with a cybernetic glowing design that implies a circuit board; this is part of the internal parts which make up robo!Ortho.

There’s some kind of sauce with sprinkles over the top of that layer; this could be the blot that makes up phantom!Ortho, since we usually don’t associate the “dripping” of the sauce with robo!Ortho.

The smaller dollop of blue frosting is Ortho’s fiery blue hair. He’s smaller and younger than Idia, so the flames do not consume the entire cupcake. (Alternatively, this could also be the fire-shaped bottle that serves as phantom!Ortho’s head.)

Under the frosting is a cookie and a thin ring which resembles the ring of glowing triangles that appears around robo!Ortho’s neck. A similar pattern appears around the neck of phantom!Ortho.

This cupcake’s cake is a lighter color than Idia’s cake. It also has a larger variety in the sprinkle colors, maybe as a nod to Ortho’s cheerier and more hopeful personality compared to Idia’s gloomier and pessimistic one.

Diasomnia

The Diasomnia cupcake liners are black with a green briar pattern.

Each student’s name is piped in chocolate, with the third years in white and the underclassmen in what seems to be milk chocolate.

The cupcakes seem to be malformed or sort of puffy like Kalim’s is. I wonder if that means Lilia roped all of his kids to bake with him as a bonding exercise www

Malleus

Malleus’s cupcake goes from Diasomnia green to black (the royal color of the Draconia bloodline), symbolizing the eventual transition he must make from student to king of his country.

The frosting on top is the same colors as he night sky sprinkled with silver stars. Malleus likes to take solitary strolls under the cover of night, so this suits him.

Malleus wouldn’t be Hornton/Tsunotaro without the horns! Of course we’ve gotta include a chocolate version of his iconic horns.

Extra frosting in a bright green; these are meant to be Malleus’s apocalyptic green fire that he spouts.

There’s a purple grape cut into two (I’m sure Rollo would be furious/j) to reveal the green insides. How curious! These colors are also considered accent colors for Maleficent. Another nice detail about the grapes is that the veining of the flesh makes the insides resemble reptilian eyes—like those of a dragon.

Lilia

The frosting is black for Lilia’s hair and has magenta (berry?) sauce to reflect his hair streaks.

Lots of berries (Lilia loves his berry juice) and irregular pink sprinkles or candy shards. It’s cute, punky, and whimsical, just like he is.

Chocolate bats for the bats that swarm Lilia in many animations. He’s also shown taking care of a bat in his Dorm Uniform vignettes.

I’ve been trying to figure out what the whole cream is… My best guess is they’re representing Malleus, Sebek, and Silver??? Silver and Sebek are the smaller two dollops since they grew up and trained together + are the most immature of the group. Malleus is the big, textured swirl on the left—he is older and more powerful than Sebek and Silver. This analogy also works when you consider that these three sit upon Lilia (the cupcake), who is the oldest and serves as the father figure and foundation for their dorm to get along with each other and with others.

I don’t know what that ahoge-like thing is supposed to be or mean—

Silver

His cupcake goes from a deep blonde/yellowish brown to silver. This reflects his hair color change following Lilia’s blessing.

Silver’s cupcake has a very dreamy and cloud-like quality to it because of the abundance of pastel-colored cream. The top of the frosting even droops over, sort of like a head dropping in sleep.

Crushed bits of an aurora-colored candy are sprinkled over the cake. They’re the same color as his eyes, as well as the ring gifted to him by his parents.

Two birds and some mint (?) leaves make up the colors of the Three Good Fairies (Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather). They also speak to Silver’s familiarity with the forest creatures.

Sebek

The pastel green frosting for Sebek’s cupcakes is sloped, and it is the only one styled this way. It may represent his lopsidedly views and understanding of the world, as he is easily one of the most rigid thinking within his dorm.

Many different things are sprinkles on the cupcake; it looks like someone threw them on thinking they would look cool with very little thought or planning. It fits how brazen Sebek is and also (funnily enough) matches his struggle with the arts.

Sebek is the only student with triangular sprinkles; is this meant to look like scales?? Or maybe particles of lighting?

There’s a massive chocolate lightning bolt topping off the cupcake. Nothing subtle or tactful about it, much like Sebek’s personality and voice.

There are two pieces of sliced grape to mimic Malleus’s cupcake. Interestingly, the grape halves seem to come from entirely different kinds of grapes: one green (unlike Malleus’s), the other red (like Malleus’s). Assuming the red half (which Malleus has two of) implies fae heritage (Malleus is full fae), then the green half is one’s human heritage. The grapes, then, denote Sebek being of half fae, half human descent.

Extra

Grim

He has a unique black and white vertically striped cupcake liner to represent Ramshackle dorm!

Grim’s name is written on a cookie that looks like a puffy manga text box. Makes sense, he’s usually being the mouth piece for Yuu when they don’t get dialogue options or even when they do.

Seems to be covered in sanding sugar to achieve the fuzzy texture of fur!

Little wafer (?) shaped like Grim’s tail! And cookies (?) iced to resemble his ears! Two paw prints 🥺 to match Grim’s toe beans… The cupcake truly is made in his image!!

The white shell border is probably a stand-in for the white tuft of fur that Grim has.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst tsumtsums #twisted wonderland tsumtsums #twst tsumtsum #twisted wonderland tsumtsum #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #notes from the writing raven #twst analysis #twisted wonderland analysis #Heartslabyul #Grim #Savanaclaw #Octavinelle #Scarabia #Pomefiore #Ignihyde #Diasomnia

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marblemoovt · 8 months ago

Text

Tail Training

MASTERLIST

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Fluff, A sprinkle of angst, Mentions/depictions of anxiety and depression. Anything else is in the tags <3

SUMMARY:

At a party, Whis notices that you have noticeably improved your bad habits and offers to train you. Much to your surprise, Whis suggests that you train your tail to eliminate it as a weakness. Will you be able to handle it when he grabs your tail?

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“This is your first session. I thought some one-on-one training would be more appropriate,” Whis answers, still tugging me by the hand. “I want to start first with a weakness of yours—well, most Saiyans.”

We stop walking, and I stare at our hands still clasped together. When is he going to let go? “And what would that be?” I ask, trying to read his expression.

His violet eyes gleam with amusement, and he gestures with his head. “The appendage wagging behind you, your tail.”

I glance over my shoulder. “What’s my tail got to do with training? Am I going to learn to smack someone into submission with it?” My tail straightens and cracks down like a whip.

NOTE:

Here is another Whis fic! This was another commission. I'm not sure when you guys will see the next one. I was told this is meant to be a slow burn, so expect it to take a while before the relationship is official.

Happy Reading! ヾ(•ω•`)o

It’s been a few weeks since Whis visited my house. Thanks to him, I'm motivated to take better care of myself. Even now, at this party, the first thing he does when he sees me is hand me a glass of water and steer me towards the snack table.

I raise the drink to my lips, hiding a smile. As Whis fills his plate with various snacks and pastries, I nod along and answer any questions.

“So this delightful morsel is called a ‘donut’?” Whis inspects the sugarcoated ball of fried dough.

“Yes, there are various toppings and fillings. You can put pretty much whatever you want on a donut,” I say, flinching when he whirls around and leans closer.

Whis looks at me with sparkling eyes, his skin flushed. “Anything? Truly?’ I nod in response, and he gasps. “Then what modifications have been applied to this one?”

“Um,” I look at the powdered sugar and red hole, “I think that’s just a jelly donut.”

“Fascinating. There are so many uses for pulverized fruit.” Whis pops the pastry into his mouth and moans. “Oooh, this is absolutely amazing!”

He continues to stuff more into his mouth until his cheeks puff. I have to look away to stop myself from laughing. Before I know it, I’m holding a plate of snacks and a new glass of water. Whis said he didn’t want to be the only one eating, and the attention felt nice. He remains at my side, refilling my plate when he notices it’s empty, and only leaves when Beerus calls for him.

I snap the last cookie from my plate between my teeth. The sudden silence feels too empty. I feel almost… disappointed? I glance across the room to see Whis introduce Beerus to donuts, smiling as the pair devour entire trays. With a full stomach, I can at least focus on hanging out with my friends. I make my rounds to greet everyone, stopping occasionally to talk.

During one of these conversations, my palms grow clammy, and I start to second-guess myself. Am I entertaining enough? I’m not…boring to talk to, right? My grip tightens around my cup by a fraction, and I down the rest of the drink, hoping it dislodges the lump in my throat.

A few pairs of eyes stare at me, and I realize they’re all waiting for me to respond. How long were they waiting—did they think I was ignoring them? I lick my dry lips, unable to think of what to say, too embarrassed to admit I didn’t hear the tail-end of the conversation.

“What were you all discussing?” Whis butts in, resting his hand on the small of my back. He rubs small circles into my skin, and the tension melts from my body. Someone catches Whis up, and I flash him a grateful smile. ‘You’re alright,’ he mouths to me, squeezing my waist gently. I nod, flushing the negative thoughts from my mind and focusing on the warmth of his hand.

I begin losing track of the conversation, paying more attention to how I’d rather be at home than socialize for another minute. People start noticing that I’m quieter than usual but anyone who confronts me about it receives a snarky remark. This discourages the rest from trying.

“Are you alright?” Whis walks up to me, taking a bite of another donut. He must really like those.

“Peachy,” I say, clenching my teeth together.

Whis hums, and I bristle under his observing stare. “I feel suffocated after spending hours surrounded by large crowds. Would you care to join me on a walk?” he offers his arm to me.

I chew on my bottom lip and glance around. The chatter and laughter in the background tires me, not to mention the loud thrum of music that rumbles through my bones. It feels like someone took my brain and scrambled it in a frying pan. A break. A break sounds nice.

I accept his offer and link our arms together. He guides me outside to a quiet spot in a garden. There’s a bench by a stone walkway that circles a pond. Strings of fairy lights illuminate the area in a soft glow.

The crisp night air fills my lungs and refreshes my mind. We sit in silence as I regather my thoughts. “Thank you,” I say, staring at the lilypads in the water.

“I should be thanking you,” Whis chuckles. “Spending the night in such lovely company, I couldn’t ask for more.”

Our shoulders brush together, but his body heat is welcome. His white hair glows against his blue skin like moonlight cast on rippling waves. The warmth in his violet eyes makes my stomach squirm. Whis must think I’m cold because he wraps his arm around me and pulls us closer together.

“I thought I was getting better, but it was hard to keep talking after a certain point.” I sigh and lean against Whis, reflecting on the past few hours and every conversation I was a part of.

Whis pats my head and smiles. His eyes look soft almost, a tenderness I don’t usually see them hold. I ignore the flutter in my chest and stare at my lap instead, twiddling with my fingers. “I think your progress is remarkable. You’ve improved. Slowly but surely, you’ve gotten better,” Whis says.

“You think so?”

Whis laughs. “Yes. Compared to a few weeks ago, you’re much more relaxed, and when I tease you, you fight back now.”

A smile tugs my lips. “Yeah, you better watch your back.” I bump our shoulders together, but my confidence wavers at his wide grin.

“Excellent! Why don’t you train under me as well?” He looks at me expectantly, and I can already tell he won’t take no for an answer.

I blink and point a finger at myself. “You want me,” I slowly turn my hand and poke his chest, “to be trained by you?”

Whis nods. “Yes. It will be helpful in your work as a time patroller.” He grabs my hand and lifts my finger to point at his face. “So leave everything to me!”

I tilt my head, staring at his hand, which still holds mine. I’m glad he seems as comfortable with me as I am with him.

I sigh but can’t stop the smile from forming on my face. “Pft. Ok, why not,” I say, chuckling at how he lights up at my answer.

We continue chatting, but despite my mind being more alert than ever, my body demands rest. Lead weights attach to my eyelids, and my head droops now and then before snapping up as I regain consciousness. Whis walks me home, promising to wake me up on time for our training session.

I must be exhausted because I barely register the extra body in my bed, falling asleep to Whis’s comforting scent.

Other than waking up at the crack of dawn, the morning goes by without a hitch. Whis makes me breakfast, insisting I don’t leave a crumb behind lest it hurt his feelings.

Afterwards, Whis leads me to the training grounds, where we meet Goku and Vegeta. He provides them with instructions before guiding me to an unused section.

“You’re not training all of us together?” I ask, craning my head to see the two Saiyans spar. My eyes try to keep up with the blurry motions, but ping-ponging back and forth between them gives me a headache.

We stop walking, and I stare at our hands still clasped together. When is he going to let go? “And what would that be?” I ask, trying to read his expression.

His violet eyes gleam with amusement, and he gestures with his head. “The appendage wagging behind you, your tail.”

I glance over my shoulder. “What’s my tail got to do with training? Am I going to learn to smack someone into submission with it?” My tail straightens and cracks down like a whip.

Whis chuckles and shakes his head. “I heard squeezing a Saiyan’s tail can cause them to lose their strength entirely. One wrong move, and you’re completely paralyzed in battle. Is that correct?” His lips purse as if he’s impatient to reveal the answer.

“No, where’d you hear that nonse—Eek!” I shriek, feeling a jerk on my tail. My entire body stiffens, and every muscle refuses to listen to me. Whis lets go, and I attempt to burn a hole through his head with my glare.

He flashes a bashful smile, a light pink dusting his cheeks. “Sorry, sorry. What better way to test that theory than to conduct a practical test?”

I huff, the blood still simmering in my veins. “Okay, so what if it is true? I’ve lasted this long with it,” I say, smoothing out the fur. “That’s something many Saiyans can’t claim, especially not after everything I've been through.”

Whis nods, squeezing my hand. “The loss of your tail would be a shame. The world would lose the fluffiest tail I’ve had the pleasure of seeing,” he sighs and stares forlornly behind me.

Did he compliment my tail? I wag the appendage behind me, stifling my laughter at how his eyes follow its every move. Is my tail that interesting? “What do you suggest I do about it?” I say.

Whis tilts his head and raises his brows. “We must desensitize you of course. Your tail must learn to endure being touched to strengthen its tolerance,” he says as if the solution is obvious.

I tug my hand free from his grasp and cross my arms.“You just want an excuse to touch my tail.”

Whis brings a hand up to his chest and gasps. “I am astounded by your accusations. I am merely helping you to become stronger,” he says.

I narrow my eyes at him, but he remains unphased. In fact, he looks happier than before. “Alright, fine,” I relent, rolling my eyes at his burst of energy.

“Wonderful! Have a seat on these boulders. I wouldn’t want you to injure yourself.” He pats the flat surface of one of the rocks, rocking on the heels of his feet.

I sit, flicking my tail nervously. “Just so we’re clear, this is only for training purposes. I don’t want you getting any strange ideas.” It’s not like I never considered this option before, but touching a Saiyan's tail always felt intimate to me. How could I ask just anyone to do it?

Whis nods. “Crystal clear. Now, let’s start with something easy and increase the intensity slowly.” He gently pets my tail, stroking the soft fur. “How does that feel?” he asks, peering at my face.

I struggle to keep my expression neutral, fighting the muscle spasms. “Doesn’t bother me at all,” I say.

Whis raises a brow, humming in thought. “Really? Looks like I need to take it to the next level then.” His eyes have a mischievous twinkle as he applies more pressure to his touch.

“Hng.” I bite my lip to prevent any more noises from leaking. A familiar heat returns to my cheeks, and I can feel myself start to sweat.

Whis stares at me with wide eyes, and his mouth stretches into a grin. “What was that? Starting to feel a little weak, are we?” He leans close, almost enough that I can feel his breath on my ear.

I refuse to look at him, gritting my teeth. “Not at all. I can handle more than this,” I say, despite knowing that I’m already near my limit.

“If you say so. Then what about now?” Whis grabs my tail, holding it firmly in his hand.

“I-I…” My entire body freezes up again, and only static fills my brain. All my senses are on overload like every nerve is crackling with electricity.

Whis observes me in silence, and his brows knit together. “Are you sure this isn’t affecting you?” he asks, concern lacing his tone.

“....”

He immediately releases my tail. “Please don’t hesitate to tell me to stop. Your comfort comes first. I want you to enjoy this, not hate it,” he says.

I suck in a breath, trying to calm my frazzled nerves. I wet my dry lips with my tongue and mull over my thoughts, figuring out how to word my sentence. “I… I don’t mind it so much if it’s you.” I sneak a glance at Whis, who’s staring at the ground. The tips of his ears are pink, and he refuses to meet my eyes until they return to their usual colour.

Whis stands up and paces back and forth. “Shall we take a break? You’re looking a little winded. Perhaps a cold drink and a wet towel would help?” he says, offering his hand to me.

I shake my head and close his hand, pushing it back. “I’ll be fine. I just need a minute,” I say.

Whis frowns and stares at his clenched fist. Is he upset I didn’t want to take a break? His posture straightens, and his usual smile is back. “Why don’t we make this a regular occurrence? We can repeat this session until you’ve become immune,” he says.

I purse my lips. “I guess that wouldn’t be so bad. It would be a great help if I didn’t have to worry about my tail while working.” I reflect on my career. I must have been lucky not to encounter someone taking advantage of this weakness, but it would only be a matter of time until I did.

Whis claps his hands together, bouncing on the spot. “Excellent. Same time tomorrow, then?” He looks at me with puppy-dog eyes, and I forget my outrage momentarily. But then I remember how sensitive my tail felt while he was ‘training’ me and my pride snapped me back to reality.

“What?! I’m not doing this every day!”

“I’m only joking,” Whis chuckles, but then he pauses, and his smile widens. “Though if you wanted to…” He leans forward, and I shove his face back to create some distance.

“No. Maybe once or twice a week, and in return, I want you to cook me breakfast those days,” I say. There’s no way I would let him touch my tail for free, training or not. I may not completely dislike the thought of him seeing me in such a vulnerable state, but it’s only fair I receive something in turn.

Whis sits beside me again. He rests his elbow on his thigh, propping his head up with a hand. “You do realize that I’m not at a disadvantage? I get to pet your tail weekly and provide you with my cooking,” he says, smiling at me. His confident smirk irks me. My tail thumps against the rocks, and I stop it when I notice it only amuses him further.

“Shut up. I’m the one making the demands.” I cross my arms and frown, still sweating from the training session. I tug at my shirt collar and shudder as the air hits my damp skin. From far away, it looks like Whis and I have wrapped up an intense physical training session, but the truth is too embarrassing for me to admit.

Whis grins, and there’s that knowing look in his eyes again, as if he can see right through me. “Very well. On the days we train, I shall make you breakfast in exchange for the honour of touching your fluffiness.” His hand reaches out to my tail, but Whis recoils almost immediately. He stands up and pats my head, praising me for my hard work. “I can’t wait to see you at our next session. In the meantime, do take care of yourself. You’ve been doing an excellent job, and I wish to continue seeing you in good health.”

And he leaves me there, still flushed and dazed. My tail tingles from his lingering warmth, and I can’t help but wonder what it would feel like for him to pet it again.

A few weeks go by quicker than expected, and I wake up to Whis cooking in my kitchen. He makes me a sandwich filled with eggs, bacon, lettuce, and tomatoes. As I munch on the food at the dining table, he watches with his hands propping up his chin. He smiles at every move I make, and I become aware of my tail swishing.

“I would say you’ve built enough tolerance. We can shift our focus to other areas,” Whis says, lifting a napkin to wipe my lips. His hand lingers before he pulls away and crumples the tissue into a ball, flashing me a smile.

I nod. “Thank you. My tail feels a lot stronger.” I glance over my shoulder, admiring the muscle I’ve gained.

Whis’s eyes remain fixed on my tail. “Yes, it appears more voluminous than before,” he says, tapping his fingers against the table.

I can’t help but laugh and bring my tail closer to him. “You can touch it if you want. Just let me know in advance and I’ll let you pet it a little,” I say. “Consider it an exclusive benefit for helping.”

Whis reaches over and strokes the fur, eyes gleaming. “Marvelous,” he whispers in a breathless tone. Not once does he grab it, only touching my tail with gentle pets. His cheeks flush a light pink as he beams at me. “Thank you,” he says.

I coil my tail around his wrist and hand. “You can touch me more. I’m not as sensitive now.”

“Pardon?” Whis stares at me with wide eyes. His skin almost looks purple and his hand starts to feel clammy against my tail.

I hope he’s not getting sick. Can angels even catch illnesses? “My tail. You’re always so intrigued by it. Thanks to the training I can even handle a few harsh tugs now,” I say.

Whis blinks owlishly before nodding and sinking bonelessly into his seat. “Right—of course. I’m honoured to be granted such a privilege.”

Maybe training three Saiyans is taking a toll on him? Come to think of it, I haven’t done much else to show my gratitude. “Do you want to stay for lunch?” I ask.

Whis sits up straight and grins. “I would love to.”

“Great!” I unwrap my tail and stand up, heading to the kitchen. “I’ll make something you haven’t had yet.”

Whis follows close behind, and despite his persistent questions, I refuse to answer any of them, laughing at his sulking figure.

END NOTE:

When I tell you I gasped when that last misunderstanding popped into my brain, I was shook

I'll see you guys at my next hyperfixation! (。・∀・)ノ

Taglist: @lovecats123451

#whis x reader #whis dbs #dragon ball x reader #dragon ball #dragon ball super #commission #no y/n #gender neutral reader #slow burn #fluff #slight angst

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kitchenwitchtingss · 2 years ago

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RECIPES I KEEP IN MY ONLINE KITCHEN WITCH JOURNAL #2

I love making these oh my gosh.

Why?

It's really fun

It's been a while since my last one

I get an excuse to try yummy recipes

You all are way too good at what you do

It's fun x2

Teas, Drinks, And Syrups

🍊 Orange Peel Tea 🍊

Violet Lemonade

Coconut Summer Drink

Dandelion Honey

The Best Hot Spiced Cider recipe you’ll ever try

Apple Cider is basically a homesteading spell

Rose Lemonade Syrup

100-Year Garlic (Garlic Honey)

Fire Cider Spell for Winter Protection

Blackberry & Apple Jam

Witchy Recipes - Blackberry Lemonade

Baked Goods + Sweets

Prosperity Bread

Lavender Earl Grey Cookies

Easy Rosemary Focaccia Loaf for Love and Protection

Heavenly Lavender Scones

Honey Vanilla Peach Butter 🍑

Pumpkin Pie Dip 🎃

Vanilla-Pumpkin Cupcakes

Soups, Stews, And Dinners

Super simple secret potato soup

Forest Porridge

Heartwarming potato soup

Perfect Homemade Garlic Bread

Creamy vegetable soup

Springtime Soup

Stuffed Maple dijon glazed roasted butternut squash

Summertime stir fry

Sabbat Stuff

Litha Orange Honey Cake

Litha Thyme Chicken

Stuffed Apples for Mabon

Mabon Mug

Imbolc Pretzel wreath

Oatmeal Bread for Lughnasadh

Samhain Mulled Cider

Samhain Irish Apple Cake

Angel's Best

(my favorite recipe posts I've made over the years, plus backstories that sound like your grandmother's reminiscing over the past.)

LATE WINTER BUTTER ROLLS

My first post I ever made. I was pretty new to the tumblr community at the time. I loved kitchen witchcraft, and I'm the type of person who will ramble on about how much I love cooking and baking. This blog gave me an outlet to express my love of cooking, baking, paganism, and witcraft. And these rolls are very tasty, I make them to this day!

WITCHY TOMATO BASIL SOUP

Tasty, simple, and a crowd-pleaser. It's perfect for a beginner kitchen witch! It was also the second recipe I ever posted.

SWEET CREAM BUNS

It was a recipe given to me by one of my good friends at the time. Every time I make it, it gets devoured in less than 10 minutes. It was also my first recipe to get over 50 notes. I was shocked but ecstatic that so many people would even give it the time of day lol.

WITCHY THUMBPRINT COOKIES

These ones were just fun to make and delicious lol.

A WITCH’S COZY BUTTERNUT WINTER SOUP

A quick soup that feeds a lot of people during the fall season. Fall is my favorite season, so of course I'm very biased lol.

SAMHAIN PUMPKIN BREAD

I love pumpkin bread and apple cider... So why not combine the two? This one was definitely one of my favorites of all time. Moist pumpkin bread and chocolate chips have to be one of my favorite things on this planet. It also makes for the perfect gift for friends and family. Yummy!

ANGEL’S AWARD-WINNING LEMON POPPY SEED BREAD

I love dessert loaves of any kind, so naturally, this would be on the list lol.

MAPLE BUTTER COOKIES

Super simple comfort food! I love any time of cookie with brown sugar.

BRING ME POSITIVITY PECAN FRENCH TOAST BAKE

I love French toast, and I love positivity~

SAMHAIN SOUL CAKES RECIPE

These are really good! And traditional. If you celebrate Samhain, I recommend you make some soul cakes and have friends and family help decorate. I give the littles a bag of orange frosting and let them go crazy lol.

FEEL BETTER CHICKEN SOUP

One of my most recent is my witchy twist on chicken noodle soup!

#witches #kitchen witch #witchy #witch #magick #kitchen witch recipes #food #recipes #witchblr #kitchen magick #foodblogger #sabbats #litha #kitchen witch tips #modern witch #modern witchcraft

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chthonic-cassandra · 5 months ago

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There were petit fours in their pale colors, with frosting flowers - no, preserved flowers, roses and violets and marigolds and nasturtiums, there were perfect miniature fruits, each with the color and bloom proper to its skin: apples, peaches, pears, plums, oranges, none bigger than a large marble - marzipan, those must be; there were rolled-up lacy cookies dipped half in chocolate and filled with cream; there were candied orange slices and ginger chunks and whole red strawberries sparkling with sugar; there were slabs of shortbread pricked with a fork in pattens of flowers; there were small cakes like chrysanthemums; there were piles and drifts of the glistening red seeds of the pomegranate; there were, in fact, exactly as Keats had said in "The Eve of Saint Agnes," candied apple, quince and plum, and gourd (by which he meant melon and Melinda Wolfe provided canteloupe), jellies soother than the creamy curd, and lucent syrups, tinct with cinnamon, all right, Janet could smell it from where she stood and dates, too - of which Porphyro had brought to seduce Madeline.

Pamela Dean, Tam Lin

Definitely up there with my favorite food descriptions in fiction - share yours with me, if you like.

#books #food #pamela dean

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greenwitchcrafts · 1 year ago

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Updated version:

December 2023 witch guide

Full moon: December 26th

New moon: December 12th

Sabbats: Yule December 21st-January 1st

December Cold Moon

Known as: Drift Clearing Moon, Frost Exploding Tree Moon, Moon of the Popping Trees, Hoar Frost Moon, Snow Moon, Winter, Aerra Geola, Maker Moon, Heilagmanoth, Long Night's Moon, Oak Moon, Wintermonat, Moon of the Long Night, Little Spirit Moon, Wolf Moon & When the Deer Shed Their Antlers Moon

Element: Fire

Zodiac: Sagittarius & Capricorn

Nature spirits: Snow, Storm, & Winter Tree faeries

Deities: Athena, Fates, Hades, Hathor, Hecate, Ixchel, Minerva, Neith, Norns, Osiris & Persephone

Animals: Bear, deer, horse & mouse

Birds: Robin, rook & snowy owl

Trees: Fir, Holly & Pine

Herbs: Bay, cedar, chamomile, cinnamon, English ivy, evergreen, fir, frankincense, holly, mistletoe, myrrh, pine & sage

Flowers: Christmas catus, holly & poinsettia

Scents: Cedar, cinnamon, frankincense, ginger, lilac, myrrh, nutmeg, patchouli, pine, rose geranium, rosemary, saffron, violet & wintergreen

Stones: Bloodstone, blue topaz, cat's eye, garnet, jacinth, obsidian, peridot, turquoise, zircon, ruby & serpentine

Colors: Black, blood red, gold, green, red, silver, black & white

Energy: Alchemy, darkness, endurance, death & re-birth, higher education, publications, reaching out to others, religion, spiritual paths, travel & truth

Today, December’s full Moon is most commonly known as the Cold Moon—a Mohawk name that conveys the frigid conditions of this time of year, when cold weather truly begins to grip us.

This full Moon has also been called the Long Night Moon (Mohican), as it rises during the “longest” nights of the year, near the December winter solstice. This name is doubly fitting because December’s full Moon shines above the horizon for a more extended period than most full Moons.

In Europe, ancient pagans called the December full Moon the “Moon Before Yule,” in honor of the Yuletide festival celebrating the return of the sun heralded by winter solstice.

Yule

Also known as: Alban, Arthan & Winter Solstice

Season: Winter

Symbols: Baskets of clove studded fruit, Christmas catus, decorated evergreen trees, evergreen boughs, gifts, gold pillar candles, hung mistletoe, poinsettias, wreaths & Yule logs/small Yule log with three candles

Colors: Gold, green, orange, red, silver, white &yellow

Oils/incense: Bayberry, cedar, cinnamon, frankincense. Myrrh & pine

Animals: Bear, boar, deer (stag), pig, squirrel & tiger

Birds: Eagle, goose, kingfisher, lapwing, owl robin & wren

Stones: Bloodstone, garnet, ruby, alexandrite, blue topaz, cat's eye, citrine, clear quartz, diamond, emerald, green tourmaline, jet, kunzite & pearl

Foods: Caraway cakes, cookies, eggnog, fruits, ginger tea, nuts, pork, spiced cider, turkey, wassail & lamb's wool (ale, sugar, nutmeg & roasted apples)

Herbs/plants: Bay, bayberry, birch, blessed thistle, cedar, chestnut, cinnamon, evergreens, fir, frankincense, ginger, holly, ivy, juniper, mistletoe, moss, myrrh, oak, pine, rosemary, sage, valerian & yellow cedar

Flowers: Chamomile, poinsettia & yarrow

Goddesses: Alcyone, Aphrodite, Ameratasu, Bona Dea, Brighid, Cailleach Bheur, Demeter, Diana, Fortuna, Frau Holle, Frau Perchta, Frigga, Gaia, Hel, Great Mother, Idunn, Isis, Ishtar, Kolyada, La Befana, Maat & Tiamat

Gods: Apollo, Attis, Balder, Bragi, Dionysus, Divine Child, Green Man, Helios, Holly King, Horned one, Horus, Janus, Lord of Misrule, Lugh, Mabon, Marduk, Mithras, Odin, Ra, Saturn & Surya

Issues Intentions & Powers: Darkness, divination, light, messages/omens, purification, rebirth/renewal & transformation

Spellwork: Earth magick, happiness, harmony, love & peace

Activities:

• Set up & decorate a Yule altar

• Clean, organize & cleanse before decorating your home

• Make witch's balls to hang on your tree (protective & pretty!)

• Decorate & bless & Yule tree

• Stay awake until dawn to observe the cycles of nature

• Give gifts tomyour family & friends

• Donate your time or helpful items to charity

• Go caroling

• Hang mistletoe in your doorways

• Make Wassail

• Prepare a Yule Log

• Host a Yule feast

• Craft your own decorative wreath

• Decorate your house with Yule colored candles

• Welcome the Sun

• Go on nature walks & leave offerings to nature

• Meditate & reflect on the passing year

“Yule” comes from Old English geol, which shares a history with the equivalent word from Old Norse, jól. Both these words referred to a midwinter festival centered around the winter solstice, which traditionally marked the halfway point of the winter season. After the solstice—the shortest day of the year—the days again begin to grow longer, so it’s thought that Yule was a celebration of the re-appearance of the Sun &the fertile land’s rebirth.

The celebration of Yule is one of the oldest winter celebrations in the world. Ancient people were hunters & spent most of their time outdoors. The seasons & weather played a significant part in their lives. The customs and traditions associated with it vary widely.

Scholars have connected the original celebrations of Yule to the Wild Hunt, the god Odin, and the heathen Anglo-Saxon Mōdraniht ("Mothers' Night")

Some believe it marks the rebirth of the Sun (the God) from the Earth (the Goddess) & the cold days of winter will soon begin to wane. The Goddess is seen in her virgin Maiden aspect

In towns and cities throughout Sweden during the Christmas season, large goats are constructed out of straw. It is thought that the tradition originated in ancient times, perhaps as a tribute to the god Thor, who was said to ride in a chariot pulled by goats. In Sweden the goat came to be associated with the Christmas celebration, and the Yule goat is now considered by many to be a companion or counterpart to Santa Claus.

Related festivals:

Christmas- An annual festival commemorating the birth of Jesus Christ as the son of God, primarily observed on December 25th

Hanukkah- A Jewish festival commemorating the recovery of Jerusalem & subsequent rededication of the Second Temple at the beginning of the Maccabean Revolt against the Seleucid Empire in the 2nd century BCE.

Hanukkah is observed for eight nights & days, starting on the 25th day of Kislev according to the Hebrew calendar, which may occur at any time from late November to late December in the Gregorian calendar. The festival is observed by lighting the candles of a candelabrum with nine branches, commonly called a menorah or hanukkiah.

Kwanzaa- An annual celebration of African-American culture from December 26 to January 1st, culminating in a communal feast called Karamu, usually on the sixth day. It was created by activist Maulana Karenga, based on African harvest festival traditions from various parts of West & Southeast Africa. Kwanzaa was first celebrated in 1966.

A Kwanzaa ceremony may include drumming and musical selections, libations, a reading of the African Pledge & the Principles of Blackness, reflection on the Pan-African colors, a discussion of the African principle of the day or a chapter in African history, a candle-lighting ritual, artistic performance & finally, a feast of faith (Karamu Ya Imani).

Saturnalia-

is an ancient Roman festival and holiday in honour of the god Saturn, held on 17 December of the Julian calendar & later expanded with festivities through to 23 December. The holiday was celebrated with a sacrifice at the Temple of Saturn, in the Roman Forum & a public banquet, followed by private gift-giving, continual partying & a carnival atmosphere that overturned Roman social norms: gambling was permitted & masters provided table service for their slaves as it was seen as a time of liberty for both slaves and freedmen alike.

A common custom was the election of a "King of the Saturnalia", who gave orders to people, which were followed & presided over the merrymaking. The gifts exchanged were usually gag gifts or small figurines made of wax or pottery known as sigillaria. The poet Catullus called it "the best of days".

Other celebrations:

Feast of Epona-

Eponalia is the feast day of Gaulish Goddess Epona, the Divine Mare & in the time of the Roman Empire it was celebrated on December 18th.

Epona is known to be one of a very few Gaulish deities whose names were spread to the rest of the Roman Empire. This seems to have happened because Roman cavalry units stationed in Gaul followed Her & adopted her as their Patroness. This may have started because many of the cavalry troops were conscripted from Gaul as they were superb horsemen. From Gaul the Romans took Epona with them including to Rome where She was given her own feast day on the 18 December. They worshipped her as Epona Augusta or Epona Regina & invoked her on behalf of the Emperor. She even had a shrine in the barracks of the Imperial Bodyguard.

Hunting of the Wren-

A traditional custom carried out on the Isle of Man on the 26 December, St. Stephen's Day. It consists of groups of people going around villages and towns singing and dancing a traditional song and dance around a decorated wren pole.

The earliest and most common folklore story accounting for the origin of hunt the wren tells of a fairy/enchantress/witch whose beauty lures the men of the Isle of Man to harm, for which she is chased and is changed into the form of a wren. It is therefore in punishment for her actions that the wren is hunted on St. Stephen's Day

Sources:

Farmersalmanac.com

Llewellyn's Complete Book of Correspondences by Sandra Kines

A Witch's Book of Correspondences by Viktorija Briggs

Llewellyn's 2023 magical almanac: practical magic for everyday living

Wikipedia

Encyclopedia Britannica

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quibbs126 · 1 year ago

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Regarding your post about giving Dark Choco a second parent, I feel like Cocoa Butter would fit since its one of the ingredients used with cacao to make dark chocolate. Coconut Sugar or Cocoa Powder could work as well. Also, which are the fankids you've made that you like the most?

Hmm, I see what you’re saying, but also cocoa butter still comes from cacao, so there’s still the question of where the sugar in Dark Choco comes from

(Maybe I could use Cocoa Butter for the purecacao kid, that’d be cool. But also I’m gonna use KitKats for her design, hence why I was calling her Choco Wafer. But also also I’m so stringent on this fact and it’s severely limiting me I think, maybe I just need to stop. But also also also, I’d imagine a Cocoa Butter Cookie to have blonde hair, and Choco Wafer has dark brown hair, and I’d probably completely change the character despite me putting so much into Choco Wafer. *groan* I’ve made this so difficult for myself and it’s my own fault) Disregard all this, I’m just having an internal conflict. But I do think it’d be a good pick for a purecacao kid

I’m actually already planning to use Cocoa Powder for a fankid, so that’s already take

I suppose nothing’s wrong with Coconut Sugar, other than maybe the sugar is too dark for my ideas. But I’m biased against it because I don’t like coconuts, but that’s purely a personal thing

Now which fankids do I like the most? Well generally it has to do with how much I like their designs. But I’d say some of my favorites are Choco Madeleine, Iced Coffee Cookie, Turtle Fudge Cookie, Red Mochi Cookie, Dark Plum Cookie, Vampire Shrimp Cookie, Violet Sugar Cookie, Charcoal Cheese Cookie (even if he’s in limbo right now), and Chowder Cookie and Purple Plum Cookie

I fully admit that these are disproportionately Dark Choco Cookie fankids, but one I have a disproportionate amount of them, and two I guess I just ended up putting more into them? I feel bad about that, makes me feel like I only care if it’s one of my hyperfixation characters. Now I want to try and put extra effort in my non Dark Choco/Cacao ones (also truth be told I’m getting a bit sick of Dark Cacao ones, I have 9 total, not counting the two I’m redoing, most unfinished and I don’t tend to have many options for what to do. Dark Choco at least has more options for things to do since he’s not tied down to the kingdom)

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sequinsmile-x · 3 months ago

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Cinereous

After a well-meaning but hurtful comment from a stranger, Aaron tries to make Emily feel better about her grey hair.

-x-

Hi besties,

Now you might be asking yourself, how is it possible that Vic saw Paget post that thirst trap and managed to turn it into an emotional/hurt comfort fic? And you'd be right to ask and I have two words for you - seasonal depression!!

In all seriousness, she switched my brain off and I knew I had to write SOMETHING about her grey hair, and this is what came out.

As always, let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: very sweet, please floss.

Words: 3.5k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily laughs as she encourages her daughter backwards from the bakery’s counter, her hand on Violet’s shoulder as she squeezes lovingly, tugging her against her side.

“Vi,” she chuckles, smiling down at her as the 10-year-old looks up at her with wide, excited eyes, “The cakes will still be there when it’s our turn,” she says as they take a step in tandem as the line they are standing in moves, “No need to press your face against the glass.”

“But I’m so excited,” she says, practically bouncing on the spot, “It’s Vi and Mommy day.”

Emily smiles and tucks some of Violet’s dark hair behind her ear, “I’m excited too baby.”

It was something she’d started way back when it was just her, Aaron, and Jack and Violet was still a tiny dot growing beneath her skin. Emily never wanted Jack to feel like she loved the baby more than him, or that her love for him would change in any way when she arrived, so she’d made sure she had a ‘Jack and Emily day’ once every other week to make sure he had her full attention no matter what. They’d go to the zoo just the two of them, or out to eat at Jack’s favourite diner. Aaron loved it, he’d wave them off with a hug and a kiss and welcome them home in the same way, his love for them pressed against their skin as he listened to Jack talk at him about their day.

Their days continued after Violet was born, albeit slightly differently in those first few weeks. Aaron would take Violet to a different room, would snuggle with his little girl just a few rooms away in case she needed feeding, and Emily and Jack would sit on the couch and watch a movie together, or they’d bake cookies. It was a tradition that had grown with them as a family. Her days with Jack had slowly turned into ‘Jack and Mom days’ and her teaching him how to drive. They’d always do something just the two of them when he was back home from college, even if it was just going to a diner where they used to split a serving of pancakes because he was too little to eat them all himself.

She’d started doing it with Violet too, and then Hazel when she came along two years later. Her daughters may look alike, carbon copies of her - except for the dark hair they’d once shared now she’d grown out her grey - but they could not be more different. Violet had inherited her sweet tooth, so a trip to a bakery was always a necessity before they headed home from the aquarium or the planetarium. Her excitement at having one on one time with her mother almost outmatched by being told she could pick whatever cake she wanted - no matter how much sugar was in it.

Hazel was a little quieter, more reflective like her father and older brother and she loved going to the local library with Emily to pick out new books and take part in any programmes they were running. Even at almost 8 years old, her birthday just around the corner, Hazel loved snuggling with Emily in a chair, her fingers tangled in her grey hair as she fell asleep to her mother reading to her just like she had since before she could read herself. Emily soaked up every moment of it, well aware that in a few years time her little girls would rather spend time with their friends rather than her, a preemptive kind of grief threatening to fill her lungs at the thought of this part of her life being entirely over.

“I’m going to get the red velvet,” Violet says, her bouncing side to side giving away her impatience at waiting in line, “What about you, Mom?”

“I am going to get the chocolate I think.”

Violet smiles up at her, “We should get Haze a doughnut. And Dad one of those croissants he likes.”

Emily nods, her hand on her daughter’s back as she guides her forward to the cashier, “Good idea,” she smiles at her, “Want to order?”

Her eyes light up and she nods enthusiastically, smiling at the cashier who smiles back, “Can we please get a cup of Earl Grey, a lemonade, a slice of red velvet and chocolate cake to stay? And a croissant and a glazed doughnut to go?”

The cashier nods as she presses the buttons on the screen in front of her, “Anything else?”

Emily shakes her head and takes over, “That’s it thank you,” she looks down at Violet, “Why don’t you go get a table and I’ll pay?”

Violet nods and walks quickly, as close to a run as she can get without getting told to stop, choosing a table in Emily’s line of sight. She waves at her and Emily waves back, the usual mix of joy at watching her little girl grow up and sadness that she was no longer a tiny little thing curled up on her chest churning low in her gut. She turns back to the cashier, her card in hand to pay, and she catches the other woman’s eyes.

“Your granddaughter is adorable.”

A laugh catches in her throat, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion as she starts to correct her, but then her gaze catches her grey hair lying over her shoulder, a particularly light streak, almost white, standing out in the well lit bakery. It felt like a knock to her confidence, all the joy she’d found in not dying her hair anymore, in the way the grey seemed to drive her husband crazy gone in an instant. Turned to dust by a stranger who was trying to be nice but had somehow hit on her biggest insecurity when it came to being an older mother.

It wasn’t lost on Emily that she was old enough to be the mom of some of the other parents at school drop-off. She didn’t care that she was on the outside or that she wasn’t in the strangely clicky group chats, she’d spent most of her life being an outsider anyway, but she did care more than she’d care to admit that it made her feel old sometimes. She loved her life, loved her children and her husband, and she wouldn’t change it or them for anything, but there were times when she wished she’d met Aaron a little earlier. That life hadn’t thrown everything it had at both of them before they had a chance to find each other in the wreckage of who they’d once been.

Right now, more than anything, she wished she hadn’t used the pandemic’s lockdown to stop dying her hair and grow it out.

Emily smiles tightly and nods, “Thanks,” she says, tapping her card to pay, “Can you bring it all over when it’s ready?”

The cashier nods, “Of course.”

Emily slips her wallet into her purse and walks over to Violet, slipping into the booth next to her. She tries to shake off the feeling, a lack of confidence she hadn’t felt since she was a teenager settling into her bones as she blows out a slow breath.

“Are you okay, Mommy?”

She looks over at Violet, sees the genuine concern shining in her eyes, and she nods, smiling as she slips her arms around her little girl’s shoulders and pulls her closer. She presses a kiss against the top of her head as she settles against her, “I’m more than okay, Vi. I’m here with you.”

___

Aaron can tell something is wrong as soon as they get home.

Violet is just as excited as she always is, talking all about her one-on-one time with Emily as she passed him a paper bag with a croissant in it and Hazel a doughnut. Emily seems a little subdued, something hiding behind her smile that he knows she’s hiding from the girls but that he can see. They stopped being able to hide anything from each other a long time ago, so attuned to the other’s feelings their friends often joked that they must be able to read each other's minds.

He knows better than to ask her about it whilst the girls are awake, so he doesn’t mention it. He simply lets his hand linger at her lower back a little longer than usual when they slip past each other in the kitchen, his smile soft as their eyes meet and she nods at him, her hand on his shoulder as she squeezes lightly. She purposely avoids him the moment Violet and Hazel are asleep and they both know it, but he lets her have it, knows that whatever is wrong she needs time to get her head around it first.

He marks some papers for his students, his two classes a week at the academy enough to keep his brain busy and to stop him from going crazy with nothing to do, and then he heads upstairs. He smiles when he walks into their bedroom, love and contentment settling in his chest when he sees Emily sitting up in their bed.

He had loved a lot of versions of Emily over the years. He’d loved her even when she wasn’t his, when she was his friend and he thought that a future like this, his life, was nothing more than a pipe dream. He’d loved her as his girlfriend, then his fiancee and then his wife. He’d loved her when she was pregnant, lamenting the stretch of her skin and the ache that came with it. He’d loved her when she stood in their bathroom, her fingers glancing through her hairline, grimacing at the flash of grey in her roots before she’d stopped dying it a few years ago. He thinks this might be his favourite version of her though. All grey hair and fine lines and delightfully his as she sat with her glasses perched on her nose with her favourite book laid against her thighs. They’d lived a life together, and they had so much more to go, and on his good days, he could let himself believe that he deserved this. That he deserved her.

“I’m just going to get ready for bed, okay?” He says, and she looks up at him, a tightness to her smile that had been there all evening as she nods.

“Okay, honey.”

His heart aches as she looks back down at her book and he heads into the ensuite, sighing sadly as he closes the door behind him. He spots a bag from Emily’s favourite cosmetic store on the counter and he smiles to himself, content to look after her by putting her new things away until she lets him look after her in the way he wants to. He furrows his brow when he opens the bag, confusion washing over him when he pulls out one of two boxes of dark brown, almost black, hair dye. It was a brand she’d used for a long time, but one she hadn’t in years.

She’d first mentioned growing her hair out when they were first locked down in 2020. They were both working from home, and the kids were all doing school at home, and any spare time she used to have to do things like top up her roots every few weeks slipped away. She’d mumbled that she was thinking about just letting it go grey one evening, looking at herself in the mirror, her exhaustion clear as she glared a box of dye that matched the one he was currently holding. The thought of it made his brain briefly switch off, the thought of his sexy, amazing, wife with beautiful grey hair making all the blood rush somewhere else before she cleared her throat at him, bringing him back to himself just in time to see the confused look on her face.

Somewhere between his obvious reaction and her own desire to do it, she let it grow out. There were a few times she’d considered giving up, but he’d always encouraged her. Told her how good she looked and how much he loved her, and that if she really wanted to dye it again he’d help. She’d always smile at him and then kiss him, and any thought other than each other disappeared as they got lost in each other.

She hadn’t mentioned doing anything to with her hair in years, and he feels his confusion turn into concern. He walks back out into the bedroom, box of dye still in hand, “I didn’t know you were thinking of dying your hair again.”

She goes tense, cursing herself internally for forgetting to put the hair dye away, and she blows out a slow breath, her lips pressed together as she looks up at him, “Yeah. I…just thought about it today.”

There’s something about the way she says it, the catch in her throat that he doesn’t miss, that has him walking over to her side of the bed. He sits down, his thigh pressed against hers, and he puts the box down on her nightstand, “Em-”

“It’s my hair, Aaron,” she says, harsher than she intended. She sighs, guilt flooding through her as she closes her book and puts it on the nightstand, her eyes catching the box of hair dye, “I can dye it if I want to.”

“I know that, sweetheart,” he says, resting his hand on her thigh, the warmth of it somehow permeating the comforter and her pyjama pants, “But I also know that this hasn’t come from nowhere.”

She sighs and shakes her head, her jaw tight with anger that wasn’t aimed at him as she chokes on a laugh, “It’s different for you, you know? Men get older and the world loves them for it. People see the grey in your hair and it makes you more distinguished. They see it in mine…”

He waits as she drifts off, but when she doesn’t carry on he squeezes her leg again and hooks his thumb under her chin to encourage her to look at him, tears making her eyes shine from behind her glasses, “What happened?”

“When Vi and I…” she swallows thickly, annoyed at herself for still being so upset all these hours later, “When we went to that bakery today, the cashier thought Violet was my granddaughter.”

He sighs, his eyes drifting closed as he grasps her leg a little tighter, understanding and irritation on her behalf washing over him like a wave, “Oh, Em-”

“And I know it’s stupid to be upset about it,” she says, taking off her glasses so she can wipe away the tear that had slipped past her lashline, “She’s a stranger, she doesn’t know us. But I can’t stop thinking about it,” she shakes her head and laughs humourlessly, “How many other people see me with Vi and Haze and make that assumption?” She blows out a shaky breath, and it skips across his cheek as he shifts closer, one hand still on her leg as he wraps the other one around her back, “I’m their mom, Aaron. I fought so hard to be be their mom and…it just got to me today. That’s all.”

They lapse into silence for a moment before he leans forward and kisses her, the press of his nose warm against her cheek before he pulls back, “First of all, it’s not stupid to be upset about this. What do we always tell the kids?”

She rolls her eyes lovingly at him, stamping a kiss against his palm as he cups her cheek, “That their feelings are valid.”

“Exactly,” he says, smiling when she does, a bit of her slipping out from behind the sadness she’d been wearing like a mask all evening, “So your feelings are valid too. I’m sorry the cashier said that, and I’m sure if you want her to Penelope could find out who she is and make her life very inconvenient for a couple of days,” his smile gets wider when she laughs this time, her eyes sparkling for a different reason, “And whilst I may not be able to dismantle the patriarchy for you singlehandedly, I’ve been told I’m good with my hands, so if you want to dye it because you want to, not because you think you should, I’ll do it for you. I’ll open up my own little salon in our bathroom.”

She shakes her head at him, not able to find it in herself to be furious at him for being able to make her feel better in a matter of minutes, “You would make a very sexy stylist.”

He leans forward to kiss her again, taking the opportunity to pull her hair tie out, letting her hair tumble down to her shoulders, giving him a perfect view when he pulls back to look at her, “I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he smiles when she blushes, unable to look away from his intense gaze as the hand on her cheek holds her in place, “And thats true no matter what.”

Her tongue licks her lower lip, chasing the taste of him lingering there, and the insecurity she’d felt all day starts to melt away. It’s replaced by love for her husband, for the way he made her feel gorgeous in an old t-shirt of his with not a scrap of makeup on her face, and all of a sudden the misguided attempt to be nice from a stranger doesn’t mean anything to her. She leans forward to kiss him, her hand hooked around the back of his head as she pulls him closer.

“Maybe you should remind me how much you like my grey hair,” she whispers against his lips, a smile breaking out across her face as he grips her tighter, his hand shifting from her thigh to her waist.

Aaron smiles, his forehead against hers, a sense of victory washing over him for being able to cheer her up, “I can do that-”

He’s cut off by a knock on the slightly open door and pulls back from Emily just in time to see Hazel’s face appear around it. Her eyes are bleary and shining, her hair in disarray and her pjyamas creased, “Mommy? Daddy? I had a bad dream.”

“Oh, baby,” Emily says, opening her arms up as Aaron pulls back from her entirely, standing up to give his girls some room, “Come here.”

Hazel doesn’t need asking twice, and she’s across the room in a second, smiling shakily at Aaron as he kisses the top of her head and says he’ll be back in a minute, disappearing into the bathroom to finish getting ready for bed. Emily wraps her arms around Hazel, stamping a kiss against her forehead as she snuggles against her, her presence in their bed for the rest of the evening an unspoken agreement between them.

“You okay, Haze?” Emily asks, resting her cheek on top of her head, taking a moment to breathe in her shampoo. Hazel nods and reaches out for Emily’s hair, twirling it around her fingers like she had ever since she was small, a way of self-soothing she’d discovered as a toddler.

“What’s that?” Hazel asks, purposely diverting any attention away from her nightmare by pointing at the box of dye still on the nightstand.

Emily runs a hand up and down her daughter’s back, “That is hair dye,” she says, tilting her head to look down at Hazel, smiling when she’s met with the furrowed brow she’d inherited from Aaron, “It changes the colour of your hair.”

Hazel’s frown only gets deeper, “You’re changing your hair?”

She blows out a breath and shrugs. After her conversation with Aaron, she was more sure she wouldn’t than she had been when she got home, but there was still a tiny bit of doubt lingering, “I don’t know.”

Hazel sighs as if she has the weight of the world on her shoulders, “I hope you don’t.”

The absolute conviction in her voice makes Emily laugh, “How come, baby?”

Hazel shrugs and lays her head back against Emily’s shoulder, her focus on the hair twirled around her fingers, “It’s pretty already. You don’t need to change it.”

It removes the last bit of doubt, the remaining insecurity slipping away at her daughter’s innocent comment. Her and Aaron’s love for her enough to warm her from the inside out. She kisses Hazel’s forehead.

“You’re right, sweet girl,” she says, kissing her forehead again, “It is pretty. I won’t change it, I promise.”

She returns the hair dye the next day.

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