currently . . . 📖 — harrow the ninth by tamsyn muir 📺 — dandadan, the apothecary diaries 🎮 — baldur's gate 3, the sims 4, v rising 🏷️ — my art | my edits | my writing 🔗 — ao3 | art bsky | toyhouse (currently empty atm but updating slowly!) * please don't use any of my ocs for any reason (writing, drawing, shipping, etc.) without permission!

“Boredom?” Luthais echoed. One eyebrow twitched upward over the top of the open book in his hands. “Daeran, I am torturously busy as it is without you placing the burden of your insatiable sensibilities solely on me.” With a moue of mock offense, Daeran flung himself backward onto the bed and hugged a satin throw pillow to his chest. He tilted his chin up towards the ceiling so he could pout at his lover upside-down. “‘Torturously busy,’ he claims! Meanwhile, we have been afforded a breath of much-needed leisure time in which we can enjoy one another and he chooses to spend it thumbing through that anthology of awful Chelaxian love sonnets.” Daeran huffed. “Again.” Luthais phlegmatically turned the page. “Awful poetry soothes me.” “And I don’t?” “Is that a joke?” “It isn’t. But seeing as how you feel our lovemaking is but another onus you suffer under, I suppose you don’t need to answer!” He threw the pillow aside and tossed his arm over his eyes instead. Luthais said nothing. A minute ticked by while Daeran glared at the back of his eyelids in petulance. The only sounds were the crisp turning of paper and his increasingly dramatic sighs. This quickly grew dull, and so Daeran rolled onto his side and slithered up the bed to burrow his nose into the dip of Luthais’ shoulder in defeat.