May Night
Artist: Willard Leroy Metcalf (American, 1858 - 1925)
Date: 1906
Medium: Oil on canvas
Collection: National Gallery of Art, Washington, DC, United States

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May Night
Artist: Willard Leroy Metcalf (American, 1858 - 1925)
Date: 1906
Medium: Oil on canvas
Collection: National Gallery of Art, Washington, DC, United States
hello may
Willard Leroy Metcalf (1858-1925, American) ~ May Night, 1906
[Source: nga.gov]
Mikola (Nikolai) Sadkovich, {1940} Майская ночь (May Night)
Bessarabska Square, Kyiv, 1952
The theater is showing May Night based on a story by Mykola Gogol
@witcherwheeloftheyear
Rating: Explicit, No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: F/M
Relationship: Yennefer of Vengerberg / male Lover (of your choice)
Prompts: Hawthorn, fire and smoke, Temperature Play, Make a wish
Additional tags: Fire play, blindfold, Smut, Romance, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Oral Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Dom Yennefer of Vengerberg, NSFW
Words: 3,469
Summary: Yennefer has a beautiful May Night with her lover. Who the lover is? I had one specific Witcher character in mind when I wrote the fic, but you might fancy a different pairing. So, feel free to decide yourself, whoever works best for you, Yennefer/Geralt, Yennefer/Jaskier, Yennefer/Istredd, Yennefer/Cahir, Yennefer/You, ...
She sighs, as happy as a clam at high tide. What a beautiful evening! Unusually mild for May Eve in the north despite the cloudless, velvety sky speckled with stars and adorned with the waxing quarter moon. Two big bonfires are burning in the centre of the meadow, their red orange flames licking against the nightly firmament. Happily dancing tongues inviting to dance yourself. But no, not yet. She is far too full from the delicious feast and desires nothing in the world but to sit here at the edge of the pasture under the blooming hawthorn bushes, swathed in their sweet spring scent that reminds of vanilla and almond with just a splash of spice to it - and wrapped up tight in the strong arms of her lover. If she were a cat, she would be purring so loudly, the sound would carry from the hill all across the valley and echo through the entire northern continent. No, further, as far as Nilfgaard.
The spring is fresh and fearless And every leaf is new, The world is brimmed with moonlight, The lilac brimmed with dew.
Sara Teasdale, from May Night in “The Collected Poems Of Sara Teasdale”
9th anniversary! ☼ may night