Guess anon was too shy to pin you 😂 I'm sure they meant no harm
Could I ask for more Yan!Pouf? I swear that man needs to he studied fr AsfvxzsxzHsffujgx
COWARD!!!! COWARD!!!!!! BE A MAN AND PING ME NEXT TIME GRRRRRR /silly (i love getting tagged guys, i am hopping and yapping and running around your legs)
mentions of blood, "yandere" behavior/tendencies, pre-established relationship (SLASH NEG. implied that reader saved pouf from fucking dying though :)) ), non-consensual touching (ddoes it count as somno???? idk im eepy be nice), implied death, self-harm mentions, ALOT OF IMPLIED NOT GOOD SHIT HGDFJSK
"I love you." Shaiapouf mumbled, the melody of his voice mumbled by the plushness of your skin, spooning you from behind. His hands traced your skin like it was delicate porcelain, claws ghosting over your flesh as if it was an unblemished canvas.
Only he would ever be able to gaze upon it, to paint it with sacrifice upon sacrifice laid upon your feet like an oath, each smear of crimson painted on your skin a promised stained into your flesh with his own two hands.
Sighing, he pressed open-mouthed kisses against your neck, savoring the way you twitched in your sleep with every ministration upon your body. A frown smudged across his face at the way you whimpered in your sleep, hand reaching up to smooth the furrow in your brow, the pretty little pout transfixed on your lips. Enraptured, he lightly pressed his thumb down on the supple flesh, watching the way your plump limps sank as he ever so-slightly pressed his claws in.
Inhaling deeply, he retracted his hand back to simply loop around your waist, wings fluttering as he greedily drew you close once more, antennae twitching as he savored your scent.
Yes, you were something to be worshiped, ravished even-- you had to be, when you were somehow benevolent enough to pick up a diamond in the rough such as him. His hands tightened into fists at the memory of radioactive decay burrowing into his flesh, gurgling on his own blood-- before letting out a soft croon at the displeased whine that escaped at the way his grip dug into your flesh, mentally berating himself for daring to loose focus long enough to bring harm to the most valuable being on the entirety of this disgusting planet.
He'd sink his claws into his skin, rip through his scales and pour them like jewels at your feet in lamentation, subjugating his flesh to the depravity of his mind to make up for any self-perceived wrongdoings he may have committed against your sovereignty.
Burying his face in your neck, a simpering sigh escaped.
It’s that time of year again. Back school shopping, one last barbecue, and the return of fresh hops.Â
The northwest had a very wet spring and a long dry summer, and the hops are ready a few weeks ahead of schedule. No matter, our friends at Ex Novo Brewing were ready. As the first cones left the field, they were firing up a batch of Eliot IPA. They tossed in the fresh, sticky Centennials and let them do their magic.
The result is a beer bursting with floral flavor and aroma. The smell is out of this world. It’s like burying your face in fresh cut flowers. The flavor fresh and green -- like herbs right from the garden, like foraged fruits. The citrus flavor is subtle -- there’s no mistaking it for orange juice. The whole thing just sparkles and shimmers as you drink it. It’s out of this world.
Get it while you can. Fresh hops can’t last long off the bine. A few hours and they get all soggy, so you can only get this flavor during harvest season.Â
