#and i love the combination it's heaven sent

[howlyourmelancholy]

Talking Bodies

summary: in which there are four of you (+ toys)

warnings: poly!marauders, with remus taking charge. foursome. sex toys (bullet vibrator, mentions of nipple clamps). rough sex. anal sex. double penetration. pet names; (princess, sweet girl). brief hints of subspace.

words: 1k.

notes: sent a snapchat to my real life bestie for suggestions, she originally picked remus. a few more snaps and it spawned into the poly!marauders and their collective girlfriend. it's short and brief, so i might need to write something full length to give this trope some more love.

It felt like the pleasure was literally about to kill you. The buzzing of the toy held firmly against your throbbing clit, coupled with the two cocks splitting you open and the third nudging the back of your throat, was going to kill you.

"You can give us another, can’t you, sweet girl?" Remus said, his voice a combination of utter tenderness and complete authority that made your eyes roll back into your skull. If he'd been able to see the expression of pleasure etched upon your facial features, he might have mocked you, cooing about how pretty you looked with tears and spit smeared on your face. He liked seeing you messy and cock-drunk.

As it was, James obscured his view. The dark-haired boy was standing on the bed at your side, his fingers threaded through your hair as you bobbed on his cock, your lips stretched prettily around his girth, spit dripping from the corners of your mouth and down your chin. As you swallowed more of him, his cock nudged the back of your throat, and he exhaled a huff of pleasure.

You moaned around him. The salty taste of his pre-cum was like heaven in your mouth. You ran your tongue along the underside of his shaft, tracing the prominent vein with the tip, making his hips stutter. You could tell that he was close and wanted to taste more. "Shitshitshit," he growled beneath his breath, his fingers tugging hard on your hair to pull you off before he could cum.

A harsh slap on your inner thigh brought you back to reality, reminding you that there was more than James here. Sirius' calloused fingers rubbed your skin to soothe the sting of his slap. Sirius had always been fond of anal and had relished the training of your tight hole. The process had taken a considerable amount of time and lube, but you managed to fit all of him, feeling like his cock was stuck in the back of your throat.

He thrust roughly into you, making you moan loudly. The pleasure made you clench, which in turn had Sirius hissing in your ear as your tight hole got tighter still. “He asked you a question. You gonna cum for us?”

It was almost as though the three of them were intent on killing you. They'd already pulled four orgasms from you, leaving your bones turned completely to jelly and your mind wandering out of your body. You were so high in the clouds that you didn't think you'd ever come down, but another wave of heat was starting to simmer in your abdomen.

Sirius slapped your thigh again, making you squeal and buck. It was at that moment that Remus brought your attention back to him by pressing the buzzing toy more firmly against your throbbing clit. Warm honey seemed to snake through your veins, causing your muscles to twitch, a tell-tale sign of the orgasm about to rip through you.

Remus had his cock buried deep in your cunt, enjoying the feeling of Sirius moving so roughly through your walls. Your legs were wound loosely around his waist, your feet dangling limply in the air as the three of them used you. When you found Remus' eyes, they were blown wide; there was something feral in them that made you clench somehow even tighter. He had asked a question but was demanding an answer, and the correct answer was that you came again right now.

As though sensing how close you were, he began to move. Remus pulled back in time with Sirius, leaving you feeling empty and squirming between them. And then the two of them slammed forward, both of them hitting that sweet spot inside you but from different angles. You keened loudly, head thrown back, and James took the opportunity to shove his cock back into your mouth.

His hand tightened around your hair and held you, your nose pressed into the wiry curls at the base of his shaft. You gagged violently around him until he finally let you up for a much-needed breath. It lasted only a moment before he thrust back into your mouth, setting a gruelling pace that had your jaw aching. “Fuck, her mouth s’too good. Got me so close, sweet girl.”

Sirius dug the fingers of one hand into the doughy flesh of your inner thigh, leaving bruises of his fingerprints behind while the other rose to palm roughly at your tit. Your nipples were hardened peaks that crowned the tops of your tits, still throbbing and aching from the earlier pinch of the clamps Remus had made you wear during your first four orgasms. Sirius pinched one of them while James rolled the other one between his thumb and forefinger, but it was Remus and that wicked vibrator that finally did you in.

The knot in your stomach unravelled quickly and suddenly, coming undone all at once. The vibrations of the toy could be felt through your gummy walls, which twitched and spasamed around the boys, sending them both over the edge with you. You tasted James' cum first, the tang of it hardly penetrating through your senses; you felt Sirius and Remus fill you with their thick cum, but you were gone.

Completely and utterly gone.

“That’s it,” Remus growled through is teeth. “Told you you could give us another. Such a good girl for us.”

Your body was a slave to the pleasure; it ripped through you, making your muscles twitch and spasm. The vibrations of that toy against your clit were merciless and unrelenting, sending you sky-rocketing as you struggled to swallow around James' cock.

You must have blacked out; in fact, you are sure you did. When your eyes next opened, you found yourself lying on the bed, your head resting in James' lap, his fingers carding through your hair. Remus was rubbing a warm palm up and down your spine; your skin was sweat-slicked and burning. Sirius had a warm cloth in his hand, using it to clean between your thighs, earning a whine from you and a relentless wriggle of your hips as he moved over your sore clit.

Remus leant down to press a kiss against your temple as your eyes closed again. “Did so good tonight, princess.” His voice was sweet like honey, dripping over your sensitive skin in a way that was sure to lull you to sleep. You hummed softly as you felt the bed dip, shift and bounce as somehow the three of them settled in around you.

[palmerzy]

I love reading your blurbs, and I have had this thought. Spence is a munch, we know this. also based on the blurb about him loving the readers mouth

I'm just thinking, Spencer and 69ing?

thank you anon!! munch spencer + oral (receiving) fixation spencer is a heavenly combination, let’s be real. this is a little shorter than usual, but enjoy nonetheless ‼️

ps: if you’ve sent in a request, i promise i’ll get to it, but i have 20+ at the moment so it may take some time, as much as i’d love to be able to sit down and write for hours, i simply cant :(

NSFW! - explicit sexual themes.

the pair of you would definitely prefer to do it with spencer beneath you, just so you have more control over how much of him you take into your mouth. plus, what vice would spencer find more sufficient than having you sit on his face whilst your mouth is working him too?

he’d be a little skeptical over the whole idea at first, because he likes to see your face when he’s between your thighs, or when you’re between his thighs, and he likes to see your reactions. but that first time he felt your muffled moan around his cock whilst his tongue teased at your clit was practically heaven on earth, and he’s been an advocate for sixty-nineing ever since.

once he realises how good it feels for the both of you, it’s probably your go-to foreplay act. he’s so eager, laying back on the bed with his hands out, ready to grasp onto your ass for nothing more than leverage, of course, as he buries his face into the paradise of your nectar.

as someone who loves giving and receiving equally, he’s certain if the afterlife is real, this is how he wants to spend it. with you on top of him, your hips grinding against his face whilst you take all of him into your welcoming throat, nails digging into his thighs, his own hands groping desperately at your backside.

spencer also strangely finds it comforting when the two of you are like this. his world narrows down to you, how you feel above him, and nothing seems to matter when your mouths are occupied by one another, both of you seeking the same thing - to make the other come. he thrives on the idea of working together like this, of exuding your passions through a few strokes of your tongues, until he realises he’s making it deeper than it is, and he snaps back to reality, lips encasing your bundle of nerves.

he tries his best to not take his mouth off of you, but sometimes a certain swirl of your tongue or hollow of your cheeks has his head tipping back, hips fighting the urge to buck up into your mouth. “fuck, that’s perfect, don’t stop, mmph, gonna keep tasting you, i promise,” he’d whine, never one to back down from a promise as he’d lift his head again to bring you both to the brink.

spencer mimics your movements sometimes - a swirl of your tongue around the tip of his cock would earn you a swirl around your entrance, or your clit. if you ever added your hand into the mix, wrapping around the base and squeezing lightly, he’d lift his own hand, fingertips teasing at your entrance until he’s plunging them into you as he slurps at your folds.

he occasionally accidentally bucks his hips, hearing you gag around him, with the feeling having his eyes rolling heavenward in an instant. he’s cautious, though, and he doesn’t want to hurt you in a position where he can’t see how you’re doing. he can feel every tiny touch of your tongue against his cock, though, and being able to taste your sweetness in tandem has his balls tightening up quicker than he’d like to admit.

coming like this is probably one of the most enjoyable things for the two of you. having spencer squeak and whimper into your clit as he suckles it with desperation before thrusting up just once, emptying his release into your throat, is enough to spiral your own orgasm. it pretty much plays out like that every time, coming in unison or one after the other. he’s drunk on the feeling of your pussy clenching around his tongue, gushing your release, and he’s eager to lap up every drop - just as you had for his.

[max1461]

Other people want the world as a whole to "mean something" or "be about something" and I just don't. That's so terribly constricting, so suffocating. I'm much more inclined to positive nihilism.

I'm reading about LotR lore lately, and I really like LotR, but all the Christianity in it distresses me. Why must the world be governed by Eru Ilúvatar's infallible and undefeatable master plan? Doesn't that take out all the stakes? More importantly: part of what I like about LotR is its valorization of the small and the ordinary, as represented in the hobbits but also in, you know, Tolkien's proclivity to spend more time talking about potatoes than he needs to, and whatnot. There's a valorization of the small over the grandiose. It's like, finding dignity in the ordinary or something, that feels like a big part of Tolkien's project, and I'm deeply sympathetic to that. But then he has to go and add, you know, an omnipotent and omnibenevolent creator and omnimalevolent enemy (Melkor, not Sauron) and like...

First of all I hate the combination of omnipotence and omnibenevolence, it just doesn't work in any kind of narrative, it doesn't work in Christianity either, it's just *so* having your cake and eating it too. Like, Christianity itself has something of a "valorization of the small" going on but it also fails there, because (people have already said all these things) Jesus isn't actually just some guy, he's actually god the all-powerful and infallible lord of the universe! And he doesn't even really suffer or debase himself except temporarily, he ascends to heaven in the end, whereas sinners are sent to hell to suffer permanently for their imperfections. And "the meek will inherit the earth" by submitting to God and doing everything he says!

Not really valorizing the small there IMO.

Anyway Christianity doesn't succeed at this but the thing about Tolkien is he gets so close. When he says stuff (this is from one of his letters apparently, I quoted it the other day) like

It had been Sauron’s virtue (and therefore also the cause of his fall, and of his relapse) that he loved order and coordination, and disliked all confusion and wasteful friction… it was the creatures of the earth, in their minds and wills, that he desired to dominate.

I'm like, yeah! I'm with you bro! But then there's the whole thing about, well, Eru Ilúvatar's creation was perfect until Melkor's discordant singing marred it, and now it's imperfect and that's the source of all evil, but it's also fine because Eru's vision is bound to win out in the end, it's like... you're undercutting your whole thing! Eru is doing what Sauron wants to do, it's just that he's winning at it. Maybe the point is that Eru permits free will, or something, while Sauron doesn't. But this still seems weak in light of the whole "Melkor as the origin of imperfection" thing. You can't valorize the small and the ordinary without being comfortable with imperfection. You can't make a story where imperfection is Inherently Evil, as it seems to quite literally be in Tolkien's cosmology, and have it land for me as a critique of lust for power. Like. What do people even want to do with power except Eliminate All The Imperfections? Obviously some just want to enrich themselves, but I think Tolkien's opposition to power-seeking plainly runs a lot deeper than just opposition to self-interested power-seeking, which is

what I like about it, and

why this incongruity is so frustrating.

Anyway, there's that Scott Alexander post, Heuristics that Almost Always Work. I agree with the thesis of the post as such, but there's this line in it that perfectly articulates the reason rationalism tends to alienate me:

The Futurist He comments on the latest breathless press releases from tech companies. This will change everything! say the press releases. “No it won’t”, he comments. This is the greatest invention ever to exist! say the press releases. “It’s a scam,” he says. Whatever upheaval is predicted, he denies it. Soon we’ll all have flying cars! “Our cars will remain earthbound as always”. Soon we’ll all use cryptocurrency! “We’ll continue using dollars and Visa cards, just like before.” We’re collapsing into dictatorship! “No, we’ll be the same boring oligarchic pseudo-democracy we are now” A new utopian age of citizen governance will flourish. “You’re drunk, go back to bed.” When all the Brier scores are calculated and all the Bayes points added up, he is the best futurist of all. Everyone else occasionally gets bamboozled by some scam or hype train, but he never does. His heuristic is truly superb. But - say it with me - he could be profitably replaced with a rock. “NOTHING EVER CHANGES OR IS INTERESTING”, says the rock, in letters chiseled into its surface. Why hire a squishy drooling human being, when this beautiful glittering rock is right there?

Bolding in the final paragraph mine.

"Nothing ever happens or is interesting". Really? Is that what the skeptical futurist is saying? Certainly he's saying "nothing ever happens", that I'll grant. But he's not saying "nothing is ever interesting". You added that, Scott, because to be interested you need something Big to happen. You are not filled with love for the small and ordinary, it is just wasted time and wasted space to you.

I do not particularly like the Big, at least not most of the time. I like the small quite a lot. And, contrary to their names, I think most of the world is small. The world is made of lots of small things, not a couple big things. And I often feel that the small is the only thing that's actually real, the big tends to be illusory. As a small creature it is other small things that affect me most and matter most to me, it is my small dealings with other small creatures that are subjectively the biggest. And the various grand narratives of history, if they exist, only affect me in a diffuse and nonspecific way and are in all their specifics born out in small things.

I am very much a partisan of ordinary things, ordinary dealings, of our daily lives and our individual relationships and perhaps ephemeral but deeply felt emotions as the actual source of value in the world, from which Big things insofar as they matter at all derive their importance. And, aesthetically I suppose, I am also a defender of the inherent dignity of small things and cast-aside things (a different but closely related category). And there are close connections between the small and the vast (which is not the same as Big), and. Well, take my uquiz. But anyway.

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

aus that I always ALWAYS eat up are regency/nobility aus

but an au that I crave but haven't seen is a viking/nobility, but in the sense of "here is a random man I found injured in the woods... my new husband 😍" this feeds off the "I will give you everything I've ever had and more" yk

anon?? thank you for spreading the good word. this is genius and i am shocked it doesn't see more use. you could try this in a number of historical settings and different genres, combine it with different tropes, spin it several ways. also tasty as hell.

gives me strong courtly love vibes--that thing in Arthurian romances/literature; the whole "i am wholly devoted to you past the point of deep passionate romantic love all the way to worship, but can and will never touch you because our stations and other social factors keep us from consummating our relationship; however i will lay down my life for you at every conceivable opportunity and if anything happens to you there will be hell to pay a thousand times over" thing. big big Guinevere and Lancelot trope.

like the idea of you, noblewoman reader, finding this man injured in the woods--handsome man, but has some blood and dirt smeared on him and a wild look in his eye. something is off about him, you know it, but you ignore it because this poor thing hasn't eaten in weeks, he's injured, he ran his horse to death just to escape the circumstances that tried to follow him here. and because the moment you offer to help him instead of turning him in, he looks at you like you're heaven-sent. like an angel.

he lets you lead him by the hand back to town, back to your home (manor, castle, what have you). your friends, neighbors, ladies in waiting see him and almost panic. they're beside themselves trying to warn you about this frankly feral- and haunted-looking man who is gripping your hand like a lifeline but looks like he'll tear the throat out of anyone else who comes too close. you wave them off and take him inside, have a room prepared, a bath drawn, clothes bought. his guest room is nicer than most homes but he never seems to stay there. always seems to find his way back to wherever you are. lurks there until you call him closer to you. this causes everyone else give you a wide berth. that's fine with him.

later, you ask him where his home is and when he plans to return. you say you'll send him off with a new horse, with money, with nice things (things you hope he'll remember you by). instantly he swears his life to you because with you is his place now. you plead with him to reconsider, doesn't he have a family, someone who misses him, didn't he leave anything behind--but he refuses to talk about where he came from. he refuses to talk about what brought him to those woods in the first place, what made him desperate enough to leave his earthly belongings behind and run his horse to death.

he gives his life to you. motherfucker is scary as all hell but he looks at you like he'd die and kill for you. and he would. and he will.

bonus points if you're already married to a man who doesn't treat you well and your new knight/bodyguard immediately knows he'll be solving that problem shortly <3

...

masterlist tag

[waynes-multiverse]

Polaris – Chapter 1

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, fluff, angst, hints to a slight drinking problem, mentions of murder, serial killers, divorce & death, set after & before the events of season 3

Word Count: 5.1k

A/N: Welcome to another series, loves! I'm so excited to share this one! 🤍 You may read the Dirty Drabble that inspired it first, but there's references to the events of it throughout. Enjoy, babes! 😉

Huge special thanks to @blackcherrywhiskey, @deans-spinster-witch, @roseblue373 & @ladysparkles78 💚 for kicking my ass to write a whole series from that little one shot. I know y'all wanted me to bring the smut, and while I certainly did that, I couldn't resist bringing the angst. And well, once that angsty stone started to roll, it couldn't be stopped and downhill it all went... 😝 I usually do slow burns, so starting off hot and going in reverse for once was such a fun change!

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 1: Caught Up In A Moment

September 2023

One. Two. Three.

At the third knock, your bare feet sprinted to the motel room door from the bathroom, a towel still in hand as you dried your damp hair.

“Coming!” you called out and twisted the knob, opening the door with a keen smile.

Beau stood in front of you in all his glory – washed jeans Sherpa jacket, a button-up in your favorite color, and some tight denim clad his muscular bow legs. That man always effortlessly took your breath away when he really shouldn’t.

A cocked brow graced his features as he eyed you from head to toe, a smile twitching on his plump, kissable lips underneath the scruffy beard. “You open the door always like this, darlin’?”

The familiar drawl made your knees weak. Back home, the accent was nothing special, but his deep timbre of a voice that made your bones tremble surely was. The combination of the two was heaven-sent and hell-bent.

“I just got out of the shower.” You shrugged innocently, your golden halo swinging with your sinful hips.

As you rubbed the rest of your hair dry, your black silk robe swayed with the movement of your legs before you leisurely discarded the used towel on your bed and waited for the handsome sheriff to follow you inside.

“Brought you something,” Beau said and wiggled a thick folder over his head as he walked in, closing the door behind him with a kick of his boot. He ceremoniously slapped the file on the small desk in your room.

Your lips curved into a sly grin. “Oh? Almost feels like my birthday, Mr. President.”

Beau let out a hearty laugh, showing off the endearing crinkles around his shimmering green eyes. “I think you’ve got something confused there, darlin’. It was Kennedy’s birthday.”

“Huh, so I’m the president and you’re my Marilyn?” you teased.

“Oh, I’ll happily be your Marilyn,” he said with a cheeky smile.

As your fingers eagerly leafed through the file, you could feel Beau’s breath fanning against your neck as he came to stand behind you, shiny leather boots plodding on sordid motel carpet. The hair on your skin saluted him as goosebumps rose.

You could smell his cologne as it tingled your nose, bergamot and cedar mixed with a hint of vanilla flooding your senses and washing a sea of memories into your mind. Memories you wished were lost and never found.

Postponing the deep dive to tomorrow, your eyes only skimmed over the contents of the folder. But just as you suspected, the victimology and modus operandi were all too familiar. You’d seen this before, and it wasn’t good.

You’d be here for a while.

“And?” Beau’s voice broke you from your thoughts before you felt his fingertips softly brushing the flesh on your hips. An electric shudder ran down your spine at his touch, your mind on the fritz.

“Definitely my jurisdiction,” you replied and closed the file.

Moaning with pleasure, you felt his lips on your neck, kissing a pathway down to your shoulder. One of your hands wandered up and tangled in his thick, luscious locks, grabbed and tugged until he groaned against the shell of your ear. You still managed to blab about the case with strained concentration.

“There’s been similar cases in, uhm… Texas… Utah… Colorado… Wyoming… and now here.”

“Hmm,” Beau hummed, not letting himself be disturbed. The vibrations of his voice thrummed against the column of your throat.

Your cunt clenched; you could feel the rising wetness between your legs and the growing bulge against your ass.

A large hand brushed stealthily across your stomach and snaked past the silk fabric to grab a generous breast, squeezing the tender flesh and tweaking the nipple between his thumb and a finger. His hardening cock pressed at the crack between your buttcheeks, your arousal dripping down your thighs.

A second palm wandered to your front but was bound southward this time. His digits pried apart your folds, two of them running through your slick with a growl in your ear before slipping inside your pussy. A whimper left your lips as you braced your palms on the surface in front of you for support, your legs threatening to buckle under the pressure.

But Beau wasn’t going to let you fall, his grip like a vice around you as he held you flush against his chest, hot breath tickling your earlobe and beard burning your cheek. You moaned his name with a few expletives as he thrust his fingers in and out of your soaked channel.

“Fuck, you’re so goddamn wet. Want you to come for me,” he husked into your ear and pushed his erection even more against your ass. Your pussy clenched around him. “Yeah, that’s it. Squeeze those fingers like you’ll squeeze my cock… It’s been too fucking long. Wanna finally fill you, darlin’.”

“God, yes,” you whined in agreement as the coil in your belly tightened with each plunge into your heat.

He curled his knuckles and expertly thumbed your clit, making you cry out. His strokes became harder, your breathing grew labored. Your body quaked with each thrust, cunt throbbing around his fingers.

“Fuck,” you moaned as the heel of his palm rubbed your clit, igniting the fuse to the fireworks in your belly. Your explosion could be seen in the sky from miles away without binoculars.

“I gotcha,” Beau whispered as a strong arm wrapped around your ribcage, your pussy pulsing with his fingers deep inside you. Brushing your damp hair to one side of your neck, his teeth sunk into your shoulder as you steadied in his embrace.

“You’d think as the sheriff, you’d care a little more that a serial killer is running around and murdering citizens of your county,” you teased breathlessly.

“Oh, I’m not worried,” Beau said simply, removing his wet fingers from your drenched cunt.

You lifted an eyebrow at him and bit down on your lower lip. “No?”

“Nope, not since you’re here,” Beau quipped and kissed your shoulder blade. “I know you won’t rest till you got that bastard all nicely cuffed up.”

You huffed a laugh. “Wow, you’ve got a lot of confidence in me, huh?”

“You betcha. Got nothin’ to do with confidence, either. I just know you, darlin’,” Beau stated with a cocksure grin and palmed one cheek of your ass as he rutted against you.

“Beau, fuck… I still have to lock the folder into the safe,” you managed to say, your mind in a haze of desire as your pussy whined in starving anticipation.

“C’mon, who’s gonna steal it, huh?” he muttered against your skin. “Would be a damn fool to break into a room with a sheriff and a federal agent.”

“You can never be too careful,” you argued lightly.

“Says the woman who can’t lock a damn door,” Beau sassed with a chuckle and threw you a raised look as he spun you in his embrace.

You laughed, your cheeks blushing when you were reminded of your little unfortunate adventure at lunch. Your arms draped around his neck as his hands wandered to your lower back, the two of you gently swaying from side to side.

“I’m sorry, okay? I told you. I thought it was locked.”

“Uh-huh.” Beau chuckled, shaking his head. “You’d think with all those criminals running around, you’d know better.”

“Look, the Academy doesn’t technically teach us how to lock doors, just how to kick ‘em in, alright?” you retorted. He pecked the tip of your nose, flashing you a grin. “Is your deputy, okay? I felt bad. He looked traumatized. You know, he couldn’t look me in the eye when I left.”

“Yeah, I bet.” Beau laughed and rubbed his bearded chin before his palm moved back to its original place on the small of your back. “As soon as his shift was over, he bolted straight outta there. But Papa Smurf will be fine. Don’t worry about it,” he assured you with a warm smile that could melt several hearts. It sure did yours. “You do know, though, I’ll get teased for this, right?”

“I know.” You laughed and buried your face in his chest upon Beau’s playful glare. He pursed his lips as his cheeks flushed with color before placing a kiss on your crown. “I’m sorry. Maybe no one knows?”

“Y/N, this ain’t Houston. This is a small town. Everyone knows by now,” Beau reminded you with a small laugh.

Guiltily, you looked up at him and bit your lower lip, one corner of your mouth tugging upwards into a smirk. “I’ll make it up to you?”

“Oh?”

On tiptoes, you then nuzzled your nose against his, hands traveling from his neck to his cheeks as you tenderly caressed his beard and felt his breathing quicken. Your gazes locked. You got lost in pine green.

His fingers played with a wet strand of your hair, a smile fluttering on his mouth as he tucked it back behind your ear. His palm wandered to the back of your head and pulled you to his lips. The first kiss was tender and hesitant, like a kid testing the temperature of the ocean with its big toe before fully diving inside and getting carried away by the waves.

The kiss grew needier and rougher as he pushed you back until you hit the edge of the small desk in your room. Effortlessly, strong arms lifted you on the surface, your bare buttcheeks feeling the worn wood underneath. It was too easy for you two to fall back into an old rhythm.

“This is very handy, by the way,” Beau said with a smirk as his fingers opened the loosely tied bow of your robe and revealed your naked body underneath.

“Thought you’d appreciate it,” you purred as he slid the silky material off your shoulders, letting it billow around your waist.

“Oh, I do, darlin’,” he rasped, his voice loaded with lust, nibbling along your jaw. His mouth wandered down to your throat, sucking the skin purple and blue before he claimed your first breast, his tongue rolling over your nipple until it peaked.

“Fuck, baby,” you whimpered breathily, your head lolling back as he worshipped your body, running a river of kisses from your collarbone to the end of your ribcage. “Need you inside me, please.”

It had been so long, you had almost forgotten how good he was at making you come undone. Or better said, you had tried to forget it on purpose.

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” Beau growled huskily in your ear.

Cupping his cheeks, you needily brought him back to your lips, your breathing ragged between a dance of tongues. His kisses were addictive; one taste and you were hooked. Consumption became an obsession.

Your hands climbed down his body, unbuckled belt and unzipped jeans, palming his massively hard cock that only grew even larger in your hand. Everything was indeed bigger in fucking Texas.

While you popped every button of his maroon shirt, he slipped out of his jacket and boxers, his erection springing against his stomach. It was perfectly wide and long, dangerously able to stretch you to your fullest. Your mouth watered, the taste of him still fresh in your mind.

His shirt joined the graveyard of clothes on the floor as your legs wrapped around his waist. He positioned his head at your waiting entrance, catching your gaze as he pushed inside, sheathing his cock fully in your soaking channel.

“Fuck, I missed this,” he groaned and rested his head on your shoulder as he momentarily stilled when he was at your deepest. He inhaled your scent and memorized every note like a love song. His lips bit and soothed your skin in a vicious cycle. There was no escaping him.

His harmless words caused a sting in your chest, however, cutting deeper than any knife could. You tried to ignore the dulled pain, reminding you of your oath to keep it casual this time. Your heart couldn’t get dragged back into his mess. Once was enough for a lifetime.

Beau had a punch list. You had a forget-about-him list.

A part of you doubted your decision to come here. Maybe it was too soon. Maybe no amount of time would ever be enough.

Beau grabbed you tightly and carried you to the bed, your legs still wrapped around him, still connected with him inside of you. Your back touched the light sheets underneath you as his weight heavily laid on top of you, pressing him further into you until you felt him at the spot you loved so much.

“Oh, fuck,” you mewled as he moved your thigh over his shoulder and thrust even deeper inside of you, filling you to the brim. It felt like he had remembered every move, everything you’d ever loved.

His hips then began to snap faster. Harder. He bottomed out each and every time. You felt him everywhere, your nerve endings catching fire as the flames inside you rose, climbed and burned down walls.

Beau could feel you were close, and he was right there with you. His hand snaked between your sweat-clad bodies and found your sensitive spot once more, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit till he pushed you over the cliff and you lost sight of the shore.

Ocean. Waves… Your boat capsized and got lost in them.

His lips sought out yours. His kiss was deep and passionate and lasting as his hips stilled, spilling his release inside of you with a guttural grunt. Your muscles trembled, your pussy tight and throbbing around his cock, and yet, still craving more. He was the worst drug you’d ever known.

As he slipped out of you and rolled next to you, both of you were panting heavily on the mattress. You stared at the water-stained ceiling above you, your skin glistening and sticky.

Chuckling, Beau ran a hand through his hair and whistled lowly. “Man… this was… wow,” he said and opened his arm, inviting you into his embrace.

“Yeah,” you breathed in agreement, your cheeks flushed as a blissful smile haunted your features. As your head rested safely on his chest, you listened to his heartbeat, steady and reliant, and concentrated on his tender and calm caresses on your arm.

“You know, I really did miss this,” he told you and placed another affectionate kiss on top of your head.

“Me too,” you admitted quietly and felt your heart crack a little more.

“You know, this kinda reminds me of that night in that shabby motel in Mexico,” Beau reminisced with a soft laugh. “Not Juárez but, uhm… Culiacán! Minus the food poisoning.”

“Sure as hell taught me to never eat tacos from some shady street truck again, no matter how hungry a stake-out makes me,” you agreed, chortling.

“Yeah, pretty damn sure that wasn’t beef,” Beau added. “Tasted like armadillo.”

Amused, you lifted a brow. “How do you know what armadillo tastes like?”

“Trust me, you don’t wanna know,” he replied and shuddered in disgust to drive the point home.

Laughing came easy with Beau. During stormy times, his heart was your lighthouse, burning in the distance. But then, it suddenly wasn’t one day, swallowed by fog and leaving you surrounded by darkness. Walking down memory lane also reminded you of that – the times when your tears could fill an ocean.

Moving out of his arms, you left the familiar and irresistible warmth and grabbed one of your navy FBI shirts from your duffel bag, pulling it over your head. Soon you found a pair of gray sweatpants as well. With each clothing item, you added another layer over your heart.

Beau watched you get dressed in silence, feeling you pull back from him. His heart twinged with anguish; his soul throbbed with longing. It was rare that he was at a loss for words, but you had a habit of leaving him speechless.

Softly, he cleared his throat to catch your attention and get you out of your head. “I meant what I said today, you know? I want you to stay, Y/N. Even when this case is over. I was serious about that.”

“I know.” You nodded, an amused snort involuntarily escaping your throat. “Just hard to believe, I guess… especially with Carla being available again.”

You bit your tongue and closed your eyes as the words slipped out of your mouth. You didn’t mean to, but it did.

“Y/N–”

You quickly turned around and faced him, doing your best at damage control. “Beau, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine,” Beau said and shook his head.

He grabbed his clothes from the floor, feeling his time with you quickly coming to an end. He wanted to at least be dressed in case he had to chase after you. He figured one naked public outing per day was enough for Helena’s sheriff.

“Look, let’s just talk about it. Get it all out in the open, alright?”

“Beau, really, I get it. You don’t have to explain,” you replied in an attempt to brush him off.

“Yes, I do,” Beau insisted as he slid back into his jeans and buttoned his shirt, his gaze drilling into yours and pleading with you. Rising from the bed, he stalked closer to you. “A lot’s changed since the last time we saw each other. I told you. I moved here to be closer to Em.”

You rolled your eyes back and scoffed. Carding a hand through your hair, you spun on your heel in disbelief. You had to take a moment before looking at him again. “Are you kidding me right now?”

Beau sighed and conceded, hands held high in defense in case you fired another shot. “Alright, I hear ya. Maybe that wasn’t entirely true… initially. But it certainly is now, alright? It’s more complicated than you think. It just-… There’s so much I need to tell you… Carla and I… that’s over. Resolved, okay? Trust me. You don’t need to be worried.”

“I’m not worried!” you lied. Badly, might you add, but you didn’t care if he believed you or not. You let out a deep sigh and tried a calmer approach. “Look, uhm, maybe this was a bad idea. We shouldn’t have–… We-, we got caught up in a moment. I mean, that’s our thing, right? It doesn’t mean anything. Let’s just concentrate on the case and then go our separate ways again, alright?”

“Don’t do this, Y/N. Don’t push me to the sidelines,” Beau contended firmly. “It does mean something. It never didn’t. You know that.”

“Do I? I didn’t push you anywhere, Beau. You’re the one who left,” you snapped and unapologetically shrugged your shoulders once the words escaped. You held back the tears that brimmed in your eyes. The afterglow evaporated. Soberly, you walked to the door and nodded towards the exit. “I think you should go… After all, it’s what you do best.”

Beau smacked his lips, his brow creasing as he averted his green eyes and thoughtfully glanced out the window, his hands resting on his squared-off hips. You knew it was a low blow, but you couldn’t stop yourself, either. It was the truth, and sometimes it hurt to hear it.

Nodding, he scratched his beard. “Alright, I’ll go, but we’re not done,” he said resolutely. Internally, you sighed. You forgot they grew quite stubborn in Texas, too. “Look, I know I’ve made mistakes. I screwed up a lot… especially with you. But I’m not giving up… He wouldn’t want me to.”

With that, he walked out the door. As it closed behind him, you exhaled a deep and long breath. Looking out the window, your eyes drifted from the parking lot and gazed up at the famous big sky above you.

You found yourself fascinated by the twinkling spots of light in the midnight blue. Pensively, you glanced down at your hand and twisted the golden band on your ring finger. Your eyes then found one of the brightest stars in the dark night sky, Polaris, hoping it would guide your sinking ship back home.

September 2021

“This is the most boring stake-out ever,” you complained and blew a raspberry in frustration, leaning back against the metal hood of the car as the Milky Way shone brightly above you and the cicadas chirped their song in the distance.

You had parked the SUV on top of a plateau in the middle of the Chihuahuan desert somewhere in Mexico, overlooking a cartel hideout, but far enough away to not be spotted.

“Yeah, I don’t think they’re coming tonight. We better check that intel again tomorrow,” Beau said with a sigh and took off his cowboy hat, laying it on the hood behind him.

“I’ll talk to my CI again,” you replied and sighed as well, your eyes feeling more tired than they’d ever been. It had been a long few months and sleeping wasn’t exactly high on your priority list.

Beau nodded and ran a hand through his hair, scratching his head in impatient irritability. He then pulled out a silver flask from the inner pocket of his Sherpa jacket and took a big swig.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “We’re still on the job, you know?”

He stared straight ahead, not daring to look at you as the crescent moon hung high above him. “Yeah, so?”

“Nothin’.” You shrugged, not wanting to start a fight or upset him. “Just noticed you’ve been doing that a lot lately. Since the funeral… It’s not like you.”

“Yeah, well, things change,” he said bitterly and took another sip.

“I worry about you,” you confessed quietly, the concern shimmering in your eyes.

At that, he finally turned his head and caught your gaze. “Don’t. You’ve got enough to worry about. You don’t need me on your list.”

“Well, it’s too late for that,” you said and sent him a small smile. “In fact, all I do is worry about you. You’re the only thing on the list, actually.”

“Hmm… I guess it’s nice to know that at least someone cares,” he muttered and drank again.

“Oh, don’t gimme that! Stop with the sulking and the feeling sorry for yourself,” you chided and sat up straight, getting a better look at him as you leaned your arms on your knees. “Did you talk to her since… you know?”

He threw you a sideways glance, lifting a brow. “Since we signed the divorce papers? Nope,” he replied and popped the p, taking another swig.

“Maybe it’s not too late. Just talk to her,” you repeated words you’d said a thousand times by now. “That’s all she wants, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” Beau nodded quietly, a thick swallow stuck in his throat as he stared at the desolate landscape ahead.

“You talk to me about it. I’m sure Carla would understand,” you added.

“I talk to you ‘cause I got no choice. You deserved to know how I fucked up. ‘Sides, you were already knee-deep in this shit. No stoppin’ ya,” Beau said. His eyes found yours briefly before he averted his gaze again.

“I prefer shoulder-deep,” you joked lightheartedly. Then, the familiar heaviness returned, weighing down your chest, your heart aching. “Feels like quicksand around my throat.”

“Yeah,” Beau agreed quietly, tongue swiping across his lips. “That’s why I don’t want her anywhere near this. With Carla… I have a choice.”

“She’s a defense attorney. She’s seen some shit, you know?” you pointed out. “I mean, is it really worth losing your family over?”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Beau said stoically. He then let out a humorless laugh that you couldn’t place before putting the flask to his lips again.

“Okay, enough. Gimme that,” you snapped and grabbed the silver container from him, swallowing down a big gulp. You grimaced in disgust, everything in your body shuddering at the awful taste. “Dear fucking Lord! What the hell is that?”

In response, he snorted and gave you a passive twitch of his shoulders. “Little bit of everything I could find in the motel minibar.”

“Ew! You’re pathetic,” you retorted with a crinkle of your nose and meant it partially as a joke. You had always bantered like this, but this time, he took you by your word.

“Yeah, that’s what Carla said, too,” he belittled himself.

“Okay, stop with the pity party. I can’t take any more of this sad face you’ve got going on there,” you remarked with a huff. It broke your own heart to see his shattered like this. You missed his sunny laugh and the endless bad jokes and the nonstop chatter. He’d always been a good man, despite this newfound darkness of his, and deserved better.

“Well, get used to it. It ain’t going anywhere,” Beau replied, much to your dismay.

“Fine,” you relented and let out a sigh.

Silence fell between you two, only filled by the cicadas and the coyotes roaming about. Thoughtfully, you stared up at the beautiful night sky and spied a shooting star, feeling almost silly for daring to make a wish.

“Randy always said you should fight for the things that are worth fighting for,” Beau’s voice finally broke the silence. “Never give up.”

You peeled your eyes away from the stars above and looked at him. You chuckled softly at the memory. “Yeah, that sounds like him. He was annoyingly persistent like that.”

“I just don’t know if it’s worth it, I guess,” he said quietly.

“Of course it is,” you insisted. “You love Emily and Carla. They’re your family.”

“I’ve let them down… I’ve let a lotta people down, actually,” Beau said, and you could feel his eyes on you from your periphery.

“It’s been a tough year,” you said sympathetically.

“It has,” he agreed soberly and turned his gaze to the night sky above you. “You know what star this is?”

“The North Star, right?” you guessed, following his gaze to the Little Dipper constellation.

“Yeah, Polaris. It’s fixed in the sky while everything else moves ‘round it. It’s supposed to help you find your way when you’re lost,” he explained. “True north.”

“You’ll find your way again,” you told him confidently and nudged his shoulder, giving him a small but encouraging smile. “No one’s blaming you for what happened, Beau, so give yourself some grace, okay?”

He nodded, swallowing harshly as he met your gaze. “Thank you.”

Confused, you furrowed your brow. “For what?”

“Not leaving when you should’ve…”

You smiled softly. “We’re friends… and trauma bonded. I’d never do that to you.”

Beau matched your smile, but you could see the tears stinging in the corners of his forest-green eyes as the sadness overwhelmed him. “Shit,” he cursed, burying his face in his palms. He sniffed.

Concerned, your brows drew together. You laid your hand on his shoulder and gingerly stroked his back. “Beau, what’s going on?”

“I can’t…” He struggled for words, shook his head. Whatever was on his mind, he refused to voice it. His lower lip quivered before he covered his mouth with his palm, running a hand over his beard. Then, a sad smile grazed his face. “You know, I always thought Randy was the luckiest bastard alive.”

“Why?”

Beau didn’t respond. Instead, he closed the distance between you until his lips crashed against yours. You were shocked for a moment, froze down to your core. But then your hands found his cheeks and reflexively pulled him closer, a magnet you had no power over.

His hands did much the same, needily roaming your body and holding you flush against his own. His tongue hungrily slipped inside and devoured yours, tasting like the contents of the flask. Tequila, whiskey, and vodka were only a few you could decipher, but now the aftertaste was heaven instead of hell.

The kiss lasted till your head spun, a lack of oxygen forcing him to withdraw. It could’ve been chalked up to a drunken misstep, a glitch in the fabric of the universe that could’ve been swallowed by a black hole just as suddenly as it happened. But for you, it was enough to turn your whole world upside down and toss your planet out of orbit.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” he whispered, his breath ghosting against your lips. The further he retreated, the more you could see the battle raging in his mind. “Fuck,” he cursed and clasped his mouth with his palm.

He jumped off the hood and walked a few suicidal-crazed steps towards the cliff, his back standing like a tall wall between you. You watched his shoulders tense as his gaze drifted upwards to the sky. It seemed like he was praying.

Your fingers touched your kiss-swollen lips, hot and yearning for more. There was a tug on your heart, a rope lassoed around the muscle that pulled you to him.

“Beau?”

Your call of his name forced him to face you. An apologetic and torn look pervaded his features as he fought a combat in his mind and wrung with the feelings in his heart.

“It’s okay,” you said gently.

He met your eyes, a shimmer of hope in his as a glimpse of a smile twitched on his lips. Something you hadn’t seen in well over a year. It was so delicate, you weren’t sure it wasn’t a malfunction. A damn counterfeit.

“How?” His question hung from the moon with despair.

“I don’t know.”

He stared at you for a moment, the hesitation behind his eyes still prominent. You felt the magnetic pull again, and you could tell that he felt it, too.

And then, with a few strides, he was in front of you, hands in your hair as he claimed your lips in a scorching kiss that set your entire world on fire. You sunk into him, forever lost in a cosmos of green, sucked in by his gravity, air gone from your lungs, and feet never touching ground again.

Beau sat in his car in the quiet parking lot of the motel, his gaze wandering up to the night sky above as he thoughtfully rubbed his chin. His other hand rested on the steering wheel, fingers tapping.

The same old war waged in his mind. Guilt filled his heart and bubbled to the surface. He debated whether he should turn the ignition or knock on your door. He always felt torn, unsure if you were a mistake or the best damn thing of his life.

His green eyes then fixed on the North Star, praying it would show him the way to your heart once more. This time, he swore to whoever was listening that he wouldn’t lose it. He’d keep it safe.

‘Cause the first time he kissed you, it surely changed everything for him.

Chapter 2: No Signs, No Compasses – MAY 8

If you've caught my not-so-subtle hints throughout this, you can already smell the drama and angst this series has in store for you 😂

Any ideas who Y/N is yet? Let me know in the comments 😏🤍

Hope you enjoyed this smangsty introduction!

Join the TAG LIST here! 🌌 Wanna sponsor my caffeine addiction? ☕️

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@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies

@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

@mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444

@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @deans-baby-momma @yoobusgoobus @jessjad

@hunter-or-the-hunted @k-slla @just-levyy

Everything Beau Arlen: @snowayumi

[chaostroberry1]

Hi! Can I Request a dom! Poseidon and or Hades x female sub!wife reader who is sweet/shy, and kinda oblivious, and they just got married and are trying to navigate their life together as newlyweds. I think logically they would have na age gap as well because I believe (could be mistaken in Poseidon’s case) that their wives were younger than them in the myths. If you could make them dotting towards reader too (bit colder than the depths of the sea/Underworld to everyone else), I just really want a sweet obsessive take on their relationship without them being too ooc if this makes sense. Kinda like they fell for reader and they fell harder almost Yandere level obsessed with her. I really loved your Hades x male reader but really want to see you take on this if it’s not too much to ask. I hope my word vomit makes sense.

This is such a cute idea 😆 thank you!

Note : hades and Poseidon are not romantic/ or shipped to each other! ⚠️ I do not support incest. They are only romantic towards reader, but not each other. Cus they are brothers. They only have love towards their darling.

Hades + Poseidon × reader headcanons.

- tbh, how on earth did you bag not one, but TWO of the strongest gods there is? That's crazy...😭

- not only did you get hades, but Poseidon??? Now you must have accomplished some sort of feat to earn him. Or you were just very loved by the gods. Let's all nod our heads in agreement.

- Considering that there are two of them, gotta say that you take turns being with each of the two.

- it's not very tiring, at least you get a free ride to the underworld and the sea each time you are transported. For example, one day you go to hades, the next day you go with Poseidon. Easy.

- but, it's not always like that. They've insisted on taking you into their own place. but to make things fair, you'd be staying in a completely different home.

- actually, you know what? To make things funnier, what if you were Odin's daughter/daughter figure? You'd be staying with him instead. You have your own room in his place, away from those...bastards..or that's what he liked to call it.

- Like imagine the faces of your beloved darling's when they find you missing. Now that? That really sent them berserk. Harsher and colder than usual, and absolutely will not stop until they found you. Until they did. In Odin's place.

- Bro they all had a staring challenge I swear on my left toe. Like imagine Odin's face when he opens the door to find two gentlemen standing there pissed. And he just responds with "what can I do for you?" With a bitch face.

"I'm here to look for my wife"

"OUR wife, Brother."

"same thing."

- Odin took that personally.

- he was about to say that you weren't there, until you immediately showed up. Your presence filling the room to be more breathable and fresh. You ran over to them happily, embracing them with open arms.

- but let's just say you were pretty oblivious to the death glares they all pointed at each other, a silent warning not to touch you.

- but now let's move on to random ass headcanons I thought about.

- one time a guy called you cute and you never heard from him again. I wonder what happened..

- naughty time with these two is literal heaven. You'd be full in all holes bruv. Do not lie to me, I know what y'all are 🙄

- there would be times where they both have to combine their interests to pick out a dress for you. Believe me, your room is full of so many gifts from both the gods. Trinkets, dresses, jewelry, fancy useless stuff that you find pretty. ANYTHING.

- I can just imagine how sweet and nice they are towards you. someone else tries to talk to to them, they are as cold as the deepest depths of their realms. The moment you enter, they turn their whole personality 360 degrees from what they just displayed earlier.

- and no they will not take flirting from others lightly. A nymph approaches Poseidon? He'd be like, "I'm not interested." Hades?"I'm busy, kindly do not disturb me."

- they aren't really fond of wearing rings, but they do anyway. It's proof of their hold over you, and how they love you lots. You cook for them (or at least you try) and clean around the place.

- you were literally housewife material, maybe a mother one day. At least they hope.

- and as long as you stay, they won't inflict too much harm on anything or anyone. Unless it did smth to you. Let's not talk about it though.

- and yeah.

[jealousmartini]

BETTER CR INTRODUCTION PT.1

— Welcome home —

╭╔═════════════♱═════════════╗

[ # 000 :: BASIC INFO ]

Date of DR :: 2024 / 26 / 08

Name :: Lucia R. Martinez

Adopted name :: Lovely R. adopted surname

korean birthname :: Hwang Chae-kyung

Nicknames :: Keisha/keesh, lucy, liv, kyu

Age :: 18

DOB :: 2006 / 20 / 06

Current occupation :: College student

Ethnicity :: Puerto rican & Korean

MUM: (american)SOUTH KOREAN/Japanese

DAD: PUERTO RICAN/Mexican

Race :: Black (mixed)

Languages :: English, Spanish, Korean, and Portuguese (a little bit of Mandarin Chinese)

Birth family :: Mum (46), Dad (50), older sister (21), and younger sister (9)

Pets :: 2 bunnies. Tiffany(Tiff for short) and Maple

∘₊ ✧───────────────────✧₊∘

[ # 001 :: TALENTS ]

Can mimic different artstyles || Plays the guitar (electric, acoustic and bass) , drums, cello, flute, and violin || can cook || can sing, freestyle rap and dance various styles || can crotchet and sew || can scrapbook ||

[ # 002 :: HOBBIES ]

Comic artist (Digital and traditional) || Animator || Music production & Song writing || Fashion style influencing/modelling || Editing (Like tiktok edits lmao☠️) || Creative writing || Youtube content creation (Commentary / Reacting, Animations, Live streaming) || Cosplays || Cooking || Gaming

∘₊ ✧───────────────────✧₊∘

[ # 003 :: SONGS PRODUCED AND WRITTEN]

MAGNETIC by ILLIT

Lucky Girl Syndrome by ILLIT

Monster by Lady gaga

Flying to space by Andriod52

LIGHT by RITCHRD

Say by RITCHRD

BROOKLYN BLOOD POP by SYKO

Fluxxwave eternal remix by Release

Lovesick girls (instrumental only) by BLACKPINK

FEEL SPECIAL by TWICE

Trouble by Annella

Girls never die by TripleS

LA DI DA by EVERGLOW

MOLLY by Playboi carti

Heaven sent by ???

etc.

∘₊ ✧───────────────────✧₊∘

[ # 004 :: SOCIAL MEDIA ]

[ # 005 :: FUTURE AMBASSADORED BRANDS]

Vivian Westwood || Pandora || Juicy Couture ||

∘₊ ✧───────────────────✧₊∘

[ # 006 :: CASH ]

Parent's Networth combined :: 970M

Bank account :: 715M

Cash in purse :: 40K

How much I get paid doing :: Youtube — £20K weekly, £250K monthly || Making music — £450K monthly || Art commissions — £600 weekly || Modelling — £300K weekly

∘₊ ✧───────────────────✧₊∘

[ # 007 :: BEDROOM ]

This exact room layout/format

This kind of vibe :: Big, Bright, Pink

╰╚═════════════♱═════════════╝

Waiting room intro coming soon😋🤞🏾

@livingmydreamlife5555 @4ellieluv @chichis-interlude @samara444 @revrealities @sincerehimbo @theshifterbear

[lousypotatoes]

Only Fools Rush In

"So what? You've blown a fuse

Well, that happens to us all

Well, I come with great news

The day could change~"

Just A Cloud Away - Pharell Williams

--

Previous

Next

"Y-Y/N!? What-what the hell are you doing here?"

"H-Hello Lucifer, it's lovely to see you again."

The room was deathly quiet, you could hear the tiniest of pins drop. Everybody was staring at the King of Hell and the angel, their eyes wide and mouths agape. Even Alastor was surprised.

The two stared at each other from across the dining room table. He hadn't changed much since Y/N last saw him, all those eons ago. He still had the same fierce glint in his eye, and he still carried himself the same way, with that combination of elegance and danger that seemed impossible to pull off when you were in a place like Heaven.

But there he was, still the fallen angel that Heaven decided was too dangerous and unpredictable.

A troublemaker.

"You, you two know each other?" Charlie asked, surprise very evident in her voice.

"Yes, we were....acquaintances before he fell," Y/N replied, keeping her voice calm and steady.

"Acquaintances is an understatement" Lucifer said under his breath. "I didn't think they'd actually send someone down here, let alone you."

"Yes, well there is a first time for everything," Y/N shot back, still keeping her voice calm and steady.

Lucifer laughed dryly. "Out of all the angels, they send you? I didn't know Heaven was feeling so...generous."

Y/N forced herself to take a deep breath. She had a job to do, and whatever ancient history that was lingering between her and Lucifer was as relevant as an old scar.

"I am here on Heaven's orders," she replied crisply. "Nothing more."

“Orders.” Lucifer repeated the word with a quiet, almost pitying chuckle. “They’ve sent one of Heaven’s own to monitor me, then? How very…quaint.”

"Still as prideful as ever, I seem," Y/N said, coming out a bit more coldly than intentioned. "Unless you're running this hotel directly, my business here does not involve you."

"Doesn't involve me?" he laughed. "I might not be managing day-to-day, and unless you forgot that my daughter owns this hotel. I'm here to keep my eye on things and support her."

"Okay, um maybe we should move on to dessert," Charlie intervened. "Niffty made a really good apple pie an-"

"Are you sure Heaven didn't send you here to see if Hell's changed me?" Lucifer interrupted, a smirk on his face

"From what I've seen, you're still the same arrogant troublemaker that doesn't care about anybody but himself," Y/N said, getting angry.

"That's rich coming from you," Lucifer sneered. "Tell me, do you enjoy being Heaven's little watchdog? It must be scary being down here all by yourself."

"Do not say such things about me!" Y/N yelled, finally tired of Lucifer and his remarks. She stood up from her chair so fast that her chair fell over.

Everybody stared at Y/N, including Lucifer. They weren't prepared to see the proper and poised angel get so angry. And normally, Y/N wouldn't allow herself to get this angry, but she had had enough of Lucifer and his insults.

"I am not scared of you, and I am not scared of being here in Hell!" Y/N snapped. "I am not a watchdog, and I am certainly not here for you! So don't you dare say anything different! You know nothing about me, so stop pretending that you do!"

Y/N huffed and looked around the room at everyone, now starting to feel embarrassed for her outburst.

"I apologize for my outburst," Y/N said, looking down. "I'm terribly sorry Charlie, but I don't think I'm hungry for dessert."

"Oh no that's fine, you don't have to apologize!" Charlie immediately said. "I'll make sure to save you a slice."

"I appreciate that, thank you," Y/N said. "I think I'll be heading to bed now. Again, I apologize for my rudeness."

Y/N turned to walk out of the dining room after she picked up the chair off the floor.

"Goodnight, everyone," she said as she walked out of the room.

Walking out of the room, tears began to prick at her eyes.

This wasn't how she imagined seeing Lucifer again.

She thought it would be more heartfelt and lovely.

But, she was wrong.

And she wouldn't make that mistake in assuming something like that again.

Especially when it came to someone like Lucifer Morningstar.

im thinking about doing one of those notes things

what do you think??

stay safe and drink lots of water <33

xoxo, Izzy

[rebeccathenaturalist]

An App Does Not a Master Naturalist Make

Originally posted on my website at https://rebeccalexa.com/app-not-master-naturalist/ - I had written this as an op-ed and sent it to WaPo, but they had no interest, so you get to read it here instead!

I have mixed feelings about Michael Coren’s April 25 Washington Post article, “These 4 free apps can help you identify every flower, plant and tree around you.” His ebullience at exploring some of the diverse ecological community around him made me grin, because I know exactly what it feels like. There’s nothing like that sense of wonder and belonging when you go outside and are surrounded by neighbors of many species, instead of a monotonous wall of green, and that is a big part of what led me to become a Master Naturalist.

When I moved from the Midwest to the Pacific Northwest in 2006, I felt lost because I didn’t recognize many of the animals or plants in my new home. So I set about systematically learning every species that crossed my path. Later, I began teaching community-level classes on nature identification to help other people learn skills and tools for exploring their local flora, fauna, and fungi.

Threeleaf foamflower (Tiarella trifoliata)

Let me be clear: I love apps. I use Merlin routinely to identify unknown bird songs, and iNaturalist is my absolute favorite ID app, period. But these tools are not 100% flawless.

For one thing, they’re only as good as the data you provide them. iNaturalist’s algorithms, for example, rely on a combination of photos (visual data), date and time (seasonal data), and GPS coordinates (location data) to make initial identification suggestions. These algorithms sift through the 135-million-plus observations uploaded to date, finding observations that have similar visual, seasonal, and location data to yours.

There have been many times over the years where iNaturalist isn’t so sure. Take this photo of a rather nondescript clump of grass. Without seed heads to provide extra clues, the algorithms offer an unrelated assortment of species, with only one grass. I’ve gotten that “We’re not confident enough to make a recommendation” message countless times over my years of using the app, often suggesting species that are clearly not what I’m looking at in real life.

Because iNaturalist usually offers up multiple options, you have to decide which one is the best fit. Sometimes it’s the first species listed, but sometimes it’s not. This becomes trickier if all the species that are suggested look alike. Tree-of-Heaven (Ailanthus altissima), smooth sumac (Rhus glabra) and eastern black walnut (Juglans nigra) all have pinnately compound, lanceolate leaves, and young plants of these three species can appear quite similar. If all you know how to do is point and click your phone’s camera, you aren’t going to be able to confidently choose which of the three plants is the right one.

Coren correctly points out that both iNaturalist and Pl@ntNet do offer more information on suggested species—if people are willing to take the time to look. Too many assume ID apps will give an easy, instant answer. In watching my students use the app in person almost everyone just picks the first species in the list. It’s not until I demonstrate how to access the additional content for each species offered that anyone thinks to question the algorithms’ suggestions.

While iNaturalist is one of the tools I incorporate into my classes, I emphasize that apps in general are not to be used alone, but in conjunction with field guides, websites, and other resources. Nature identification, even on a casual level, requires critical thinking and observation skills if you want to make sure you’re correct. Coren’s assertion that you only need a few apps demonstrates a misunderstanding of a skill that takes time and practice to develop properly—and accurately.

Speaking of oversimplification, apps are not a Master Naturalist in your pocket, and that statement —while meant as a compliment–does a disservice to the thousands of Master Naturalists across the country. While the training curricula vary from state to state, they are generally based in learning how organisms interact within habitats and ecosystems, often drawing on a synthesis of biology, geology, hydrology, climatology, and other natural sciences. A Master Naturalist could tell you not only what species you’re looking at, but how it fits into this ecosystem, how its adaptations are different from a related species in another ecoregion, and so forth.

Map showing Level III and IV ecoregions of Oregon, the basis of my training as an Oregon Master Naturalist.

In spite of my criticisms, I do think that Coren was absolutely onto something when he described the effects of using the apps. Seeing the landscape around you turn from a green background to a vibrant community of living beings makes going outside a more exciting, personal experience. I and my fellow nature nerds share an intense curiosity about the world around us. And that passion, more than any app or other tool, is fundamental to becoming a citizen naturalist, Master or otherwise.

Did you enjoy this post? Consider taking one of my online foraging and natural history classes or hiring me for a guided nature tour, checking out my other articles, or picking up a paperback or ebook I’ve written! You can even buy me a coffee here!

[brittle-doughie]

Hello!! I was thinking how it would look like if Shadow Milk introduced my OC Chocolate Fondant Cookie to the other beasts... What are your ideas? I'd love to see your take on it!!

Chocolate Fondant Cookie is a Cookie born with a supernatural power: the power to turn everything into a musical the moment he sings. (His power works like hypnosis lol.) He's not as strong as the Beasts but his power combines very well with Shadow Milk's!

Other cookies feared him and murdered him before he could attempt anything. In the afterlife, Chocolate Fondant Cookie was refused access to heaven and instead was sent to hell, becoming a demon. Large horns grew on his head and his body became larger in size. (For comparison, Shadow Milk (in my AU) is 5'10 and Chocolate Fondant 7'0, little guy needs to make himself float to reach Fondie's face~)

Chocolate Fondant and Shadow Milk are polar opposites. Fondant doesn't like chaos, is organized, 99% against hurting people and is very cautious of his image. He's reserved, calm, naive and a big pushover and Shadow Milk often teases him for that!

Shadow Milk loves playing around with him and making him feel all sorts of emotions. Chocolate Fondant has a stoic personality that is hard to break but it's always rewarding for the jester to crack a smile out of him!

Shadow Milk quickly fell in love with him, mostly for his unique personality! The two are a very happy couple with a common goal in mind: Return to Earthbread to get business done! >:D

Oh hey, I think I’ve seen this character before on the wiki. Wasn’t expecting him in my inbox, holy-

I like the dynamic between the two, Chocolate Fondant being Shadow Milk’s rock, albeit that rock having a soft spot for Shadow Milk that has the jester get a kick out of getting smiles from Fondant.

How I’d see it would be Shadow Milk introducing his “sweet sweetie” to the other Beasts once they’ve all got their vessels, since ti would be the occasion where the Beasts would unite, Shadow Milk floating up to give his stoic face a cheek kiss.

Mystic Flour observes Fondant closely, he didn’t seem like any other cookie to her. There was something peculiar about this one in her eyes, his stoic expression says little but his eyes says a lot.

Burning Spice felt it too. While he does believe he can take on Chocolate Fondant, seeing Shadow Milk go on and on about him makes Spice think twice. He didn’t need the jester’s clownage if he laid a hand on Fondant.

Eternal Sugar would probably just a hand wave and keep laying in her cloud. Doesn’t matter to her that Shadow Milk found himself his dream cookie, just so long as she gets to sleep through his incessant fawning other Fondant.

Silent Salt was of little words, but Fondant would be able to see their eyes on him, as if Silent Salt was silently judging and evaluating him. What exactly was it about him that has Shadow Milk like this? They aim to find out the more they watch him.

[jade-len]

guys, guys.

be honest with me. would anybody be willing to read any SVSSS x reader stuff (or, just SVSSS with reader fanfics in general?) like please i'm being so deadass right now. i am very willing to write, it's just that i have no clue if anyone would want to read that???

i know that the people in this fandom don't necessarily have any x or & readers, but i'm sad and pathetic and have a weird emotional attachment to the characters. like hear me out guys.

i present to you all a few ideas i have:

1. reader transmigrates into SVSSS and decides, fuck it, let's become a counselor/therapist/emotional support service pal. half of the conflicts in the novel would've been prevented if therapy, communication, and simple observation existed! mu qingfan, give me a chance!! i promise this will lower the qi deviation rates by at least 50%.

liu qingge? alright, let's work on learning identifying your feelings better and not respond via violence to every situation. shen jiu? hey, hey, it's okay to be vulnerable! no- please don't go self projecting yourself onto an innocent 14 year old. luo binghe? *pulls out 5 different documents* heavens, where do we even start? like, gods forbid any of them have a proper support system, or at least be able to express their feelings and deal with them in a healthy manner!

2. liu qingge x reader where he gradually stops painfully pining and gets the love that he deserves. he gets his pretty face cupped gently and kisses all over it. that's it. that's the fic idea.

3. bingge, the original luo binghe, gets sent back in time.. all the way back to right when his mother died. he believes that he's been given a chance to re-enact his revenge, play it smart all the way from the start and have an upper hand now that he has to relive this! however, that quickly changes when this random fucking person (aka, reader) just wont stop bothering him?? what the hell do they want??? (for this one, i'm not sure if reader should be a transmigrator who believes they're in SVSSS instead of PIDW and is unaware of the whole bingge thing, or just some npc that proves him wrong about kindness).

4. SVSSS hater (or someone who just has a very complicated relationship with it!) reader transmigrates into it after tweeting "stupid author, stupid novels". they then proceed to accidentally collect two husbands they were so actively against before. ugh! now that i'm here, i guess i'll try to help out with their relationship and give my advice so that they won't have so much conflict, ones that were super frustrating to even hear about!! shen qingqiu, that dense ass guy and unhealthily codependent luo binghe! wait, what? what do you mean they both want me to be part of their marriage now??

sincerely, very much inspired by this tweet (reader most likely isn't going to be an anti, though);

low-key might combine the first and fourth fanfic idea? will make reader gender neutral (or even male!) though. but overall idk. idk if people will even wanna see that at all, man. ok please give thoughts. or not lol

(10-11-23 edit: i'm currently writing the bingge one rn!)

[whatswrongwithblue]

All the exorcists slept with Adam. All. And that's why Lute hated Vaggie. She was Adams's favorite when Lute had been at his side longer. So Charlie was Vaggie's' first girl but not first ever? Like maybe she didn't realize she was even gay before she met Charlie.

Charlie and Vaggie's first time and Vaggie very carefully dances around her "dating experience" beforehand.

~time jump~

Charlie wakes up a few nights after the extermination finally realizing the man Vaggie was talking about was Adam and being really pissed she didn't get to kill Adam herself.

-Crack Rodent

I don't normally write this ship but Hamster asked very politely if she could send me Charlie x Vaggie prompts and just for her, since she's just the best, I agreed.

Trigger warnings: mentions if rape, sexual trauma, explicit sapphic sex.

Vaggie felt like she was floating. As if she were weightless, despite the feeling of the mattress beneath her back.

The sheets were the silkiest thing her skin had ever felt. A sweet scent dominated her senses; a perfume that had come to smell like comfort and nostalgia for a home she had never known. Or couldn’t remember.

And the heat; it enveloped her, caressed her lungs as she breathed it in, tickled her skin as it sent a singular bead of sweat between her breasts. It wasn’t the sweltering, stifling, dominating heat of Hell. No, this was heat from within; a burning truth that Vaggie had tried to ignore and turn away from for far too long. The heat of passion, desire, and maybe . . . hopefully, of love.

Charlie’s hair fanned out on the pillow on either side of Vaggie as she kissed her from lips to jawline to neck, going lower and lower and lower until she caught the taught peak of one breast between her lips and gave it a playful suck.

Vaggie clenched her fingers into Charlie’s blonde tresses, delighting in the sensation of someone touching her there with the right combination of tenderness and pressure, rather than groping rough hands and teeth.

Charlie sat up, with knees on either side of Vaggie’s thighs, in nothing but a t shirt and panties. She was a real angel; Vaggie was sure of it. This kind, gentle, compassionate soul; half-angel and half-human, untouched by original sin, was the purest person Vaggie had ever met. Not only was she too good for Hell; Vaggie knew better than anyone Charlie was even too good for Heaven.

And she was so beautiful. Her unnatural porcelain skin, her adorable little canines, and even – no, especially – her black hooves that decorated the ends of her feet. Vaggie was in love with it all.

In Charlie’s own excitement, her eyes had shifted into a darker, redder color than her natural ones and even though Vaggie knew it was her demonic side coming through, there was nothing evil in those glowing orbs. Charlie was just a normal girl, a woman, looking down at her soon to be lover with adoration and anticipation.

And then Charlie pulled her shirt up and over her head, exposing the entire naked expanse of her torso for Vaggie’s eyes to gaze upon and worship and Vaggie saw stars.

Pinpricks of dancing little lights seemed to halo around Charlie as Vaggie lay beneath her and pale purple hands reached up and tentatively cupped handfuls of white, rounded flesh. She was shocked at the full and heavy feeling of them, and marveled at how perfectly taught they were.

Charlie giggled and took one of Vaggie’s hands from her body and lifted it to her face, pressing a kiss to the palm.

“You’re shaking,” Charlie said sweetly, a mix of concern and amusement.

Vaggie then realized it wasn’t literal stars dancing around Charlie that she could see, but the results of her own hyperventilating making her hallucinate them.

“Are you okay? Do you need to stop?” Charlie asked when Vaggie didn’t respond right away.

“No, no, no, please. Oh God, this is embarrassing,” Vaggie said and brought both her hands to cover her face. “I’m like a twelve year old boy looking at my first pair of tits.”

Charlie laughed again and leaned down, her face hovering inches from Vaggie’s once more.

“You’re just excited. I think it’s really sweet,” she said and kissed her.

It was a slow, lingering kiss, that forced Vaggie to slow her breathing down and relax into Charlie’s body.

They were both down to nothing but thin pieces of underwear and Vaggie could feel so much more of Charlie’s body now. The sheets were nothing compared to the softness of Charlie’s skin and as the taller woman began to move above her, rubbing their bodies against each other, Vaggie was suddenly aware of just how wet her own pair of underwear had become.

Charlie moved until she had one of her more slender thighs pressed between Vaggie’s fuller ones and rolled her hips, moving herself against Vaggie right at her aching core and despite her shyness, Vaggie felt her body responding of its own accord. She lifted her hips and rocked them into the touch and it was Charlie that groaned first, in response to Vaggie’s eagerness and the dampness she could feel now between them.

A hand slid down Vaggie’s body, slow and appreciating every swell and valley of her curves, until it stopped just between her navel and the top band of her underwear.

“Can I touch you?” Charlie asked and wordlessly, Vaggie nodded.

At first Charlie touched her over the fabric, applying light pressure and gentle strokes over the dampest spot. After a minute, Vaggie had begun moving her hips in earnest to the touch, making lewd little whining sounds she had never heard herself make, and Charlie grew bolder and in one swift motion, slipped her hand inside the underwear and the skin to skin contact there was pure, unadulterated heaven.

Vaggie leaned her head back into the pillow and closed her eyes as Charlie worked her magic; slipping between her folds, dancing from her center to the sensitive apex, stroking the swollen and aching pathway between each destination. Vaggie was a musical instrument and Charlie its master; her fingers knowing just the right combination of chords to make Vaggie sing for her.

And then she slipped her fingers inside.

It wasn’t as tight of a fit as what Vaggie had experience with. The deep, forceful pressure wasn’t there. In fact, Charlie curled her fingers up in a surprising way, staying relatively shallow rather than trying to completely fill her up, and stroked and pulled on an inner part of Vaggie that had only ever been abused before.

For the first few seconds, it did feel lovely.

But the nervous system remembers what the rest of the brain tries so very hard to forget and that phantom ache came from deep within her. Vaggie tried to focus on the fact that this was her girlfriend, this was Charlie, and she loved her and wanted this but her mind kept flashing back to the before.

To heaven, where everything was white and gold.

To gazing up at the ceiling and the four poster bed painted in gold and covered in transparent white sheets.

To robes, white and gold, hiked up around his hips, exposing himself to her, pressed against her. Inside her.

She should have considered herself lucky.

White, the color of purity.

She was his favorite. His best girl.

Gold, the color of victory.

He wanted her the most. Always told her how well she took him.

White, the color of feeling cold and naked.

Some of the other women were even jealous of her, asked her what she did that made her so good in bed.

Gold, the color of the eyes in his mask as they narrowed whenever he came inside her.

She always told them the same thing.

She did nothing.

She just laid there and let him do whatever he wanted.

­­­____

"Vaggie? Vaggie? Please, I’m sorry.”

Vaggie could hear Charlie’s voice coming from the other side of the bathroom door but wasn’t ready to respond.

Not when she felt more vomit rising in her throat; not when the tears hadn’t stopped flowing yet.

“Vaggie, I’m so sorry. Please just tell me whatever it is I did wrong and I won’t do it again. We don’t have to do anything else tonight. We don’t have to do anything else until you’re ready. Even if . . . even if you’re never ready. Please. Just talk to me. Just let me in. I didn’t mean to hurt you-“

Charlie’s voice cracked and even through the closed door, Vaggie could hear her stifling her own sobs. It just made Vaggie feel worse.

She had ruined everything.

She was ruined.

Used up, damaged goods. And if Charlie found out the truth, how could she ever want to touch her like that again? But Charlie deserved to know; to understand this wasn’t her fault, but Vaggie’s.

Vaggie should have told her sooner. Before she had let Charlie bring her into her bed.

Before she had made Charlie cry.

Standing on shaking legs, Vaggie looked at the door. It wasn’t locked but that was another thing that was so great about Charlie; she respected boundaries and really, genuinely cared. Vaggie knew that door would stay closed indefinitely as long as it was her wish for it to remain so.

So she took several unsteady steps towards it and opened it.

____

“I don’t remember being alive. That part was true. But I do remember things from before the night you found me. I just wasn’t ready for you to know the truth.”

Vaggie was sitting up on the edge of the bed, her own shirt and skirt back in place and a tissue box placed in her lap that Charlie had given to her.

Charlie had just thrown on a bathrobe before bringing her the tissues, and a trash can in case Vaggie got sick again, and was seated next to her, a careful hand resting on her shoulder.

“I still . . . I’m still not ready for you to know everything. I’m sorry Charlie, I just can’t. It’ll make it worse for me.”

“Okay,” Charlie said quietly, nodding in understanding.

“I don’t know if it’s because I don’t remember what I did or who I was when I was alive but when I died, I was assigned. I guess that’s the best way to put it. Given to sounds wrong but I don’t know, maybe it‘s not. I didn’t have a choice either way. Or, if I did, I wasn’t made aware that I had a choice. The people who were in charge of me, they made it all seem so normal. No, that’s not right either. They made it seem like an honor. Like I was blessed to be given the position I was in. And the other women acted like it to. God, we were so brainwashed. So willing to believe all the lies he fed us.”

“He? Who’s ‘he’?” Charlie asked.

“I . . . can’t tell you.”

“Do I know him?”

“Charlie- ”

“Sorry. I’m sorry. It’s just . . . I could do something about this. Maybe. You know, if I knew who he was I could tell my dad and- ”

“No.”

Charlie sighed and rubbed Vaggie’s shoulder.

“Okay,” she repeated and let Vaggie continue.

“There were over a hundred other women. Maybe even two hundred. I’m not sure, I never found out. Never learned all their names or their stories. I thought I had made some friends amongst them but when I tried to go against one simple order . . . well, that was the night you found me. But the worst part was what we did outside of our . . . work. The guy who was in charge of all of us, the one we were assigned to, he slept with us. All of us. He made us believe it was some kind of sacred duty for us to perform, our rightful role as women, but that’s not what it was.”

Charlie’s hand had gone very still on Vaggie’s shoulder.

“It was rape,” Charlie said quietly and Vaggie didn’t answer. “Vaggie . . . I- ”

“Not all the women saw it that way. Hell, I didn’t even see it that was at first. But then I started to. And then I started to question . . . everything.”

Vaggie fell apart then and Charlie held her as she sobbed, crying alongside her. Vaggie lay there in her arms, letting Charlie stroke her hair and kiss the crown of her head, until finally the sobs choked out and the tears dried up, and Vaggie fell asleep.

When she woke in the morning, she was shocked to find herself still in Charlie’s arms and still in her bed.

Charlie hadn’t left her, hadn’t wanted to stop touching her, even after she had learned the truth.

Vaggie lay there, watching her girlfriend sleep, and brushed a bit of bedhead messy blond hair out of her face. For the princess of Hell, Charlie was not a graceful sleeper. Her mouth was open, she was lightly drooling on her pillow, and she was snoring tiny little adorable snores that occasionally ended in a tiny whistle.

And still, she had one arm stretched out and wrapped around Vaggie.

“I love you,” Vaggie whispered and knew she never wanted to sleep in another bed ever again.

____

A couple of nights went by and while they had shared a bed, they hadn’t done anything past cuddling and kissing. But Vaggie really felt like she was ready for more, she was just waiting for the shoe to drop and Charlie to lose her patience with her or find her disgusting. When it became apparent that wasn’t going to happen; if anything Charlie was more doting and kinder to her than ever before, Vaggie decided to verbalize her desire to try again.

“Maybe if I touch you first, it’ll be different enough. I mean, you are different. Very different. I mean, just the fact that it feels good when you touch me is different, I just think I need- ”

“I totally get it,” Charlie interrupted, though with a kind smile.

That was how Vaggie found herself on top the second time they tried and found herself enjoying it far more than she could have ever imagined.

She mirrored what Charlie had done to her the night before; her mouth tasting every bit of flesh on Charlie’s upper half she could find, savoring the flavor and texture of her skin against her tongue and the way her natural scent filled her up. Charlie smelled like flowers after a rain shower and Vaggie breathed her in deeply, licking at her sternum and grinning like a mad woman when Charlie shuddered beneath her.

But when she grew brave enough to touch between her legs, Vaggie did things a little differently than Charlie had.

Vaggie pulled her underwear off her, dragging the fabric down her legs slowly, eyes drinking in the sight of Charlie’s already wet body glistening for her beneath the little patch of neatly groomed curls.

Then she crawled back up Charlie, kissing her softly on the lips at the same moment her fingers found her mound. They moaned together at that initial contact, the hot slick perfection of Charlie against Vaggie’s fingers turning her on more than anything that had happened that night before.

She worked Charlie’s clit with tight circles that made the princess buck her hips up into her hand and get two tight fistfuls of Vaggie’s hair. And when she dipped lower, curling two fingers inside her and using her palm to rub against that now swollen bundle of nerves, cupping her sex and working her inside and out, Charlie threw back her head and cried out in pleasure.

It was by far the sexiest thing Vaggie had ever seen.

“Are you sure you’ve never done this before?” Charlie said in between her pants and her moans.

Her eyes had become engulfed in those demonic burning red orbs and even her horns were beginning to sprout out from her hairline and Vaggie pumped her hand faster and faster.

“If I have, I don’t remember. But that’s okay . . .” Vaggie said and leaned down to bite the edge of Charlie’s ear lobe before she whispered, “I’m glad you’re my first.”

“Oh . . . fuck,” Charlie whimpered and then Vaggie watched in fascination as her whole body arched forward, her hips spasming in an irregular pattern up into Vaggie’s touch.

Vaggie had been forced to watch Adam with the other women from time to time and always wondered how many of them faked it for him but there was no denying the reality of Charlie’s orgasm; not with the feral way her spongy walls became suddenly, powerfully tight and fluttered around her fingers and the red blush crept all the way down from her cheeks to the top swell of her chest. No woman had ever looked like that when in bed with Adam and Vaggie felt a positively sinful amount of pride at that thought.

But her rush of confidence went away a few moments later, after Charlie had caught her breath, and they had switched positions.

“I want to try something different tonight,” Charlie said from above her. “Can I go down on you?”

“I guess . . . if you want. You don’t have to, I mean, no one has before, so I don’t know.”

“That’s why I want to try it. Because no one has before,” Charlie said sincerely, but then her eyes lit up with wicked delight. “And also because I really, really want to taste you.”

Vaggie felt her face heat up and knew her usually lavender complexion had to have turned crimson at Charlie’s words but she tried to let her body relax as Charlie removed her underwear and slid herself low between her legs.

At first she felt a bit cold, her upper body exposed to the air of the room without Charlie above her, and even her legs were being mostly untouched. But then Charlie’s tongue ran up her slit in one long fluid motion, with absolutely no hesitation and Vaggie hissed and clutched at the sheets beneath her.

Charlie’s warm and wet tongue lapped at Vaggie’s molten and weeping core, circling it but never pushing farther into her depths. And when she brought her whole mouth to her, sucking her lips around her clit and still stroking that sensitive line of flesh between her folds, Vaggie nearly screamed out at the foreign sensation that was overwhelming her.

Every reservation and fear melted from her then and Vaggie lifted her hips and spread her legs wide, rocking her soaking wet and throbbing sex against Charlie’s face as she gripped hold of those horns and rode her for all she was worth.

They were both moaning, both burning up with desire, and Charlie dug her fingers into Vaggie’s inner thighs, spreading her open even more and leaving little marks against her lover’s flesh there.

Vaggie screamed Charlie’s name when she came, helpless to the way her body folded her nearly in half and Charlie’s tongue worked her through each wave of pleasure, her strokes becoming slower and a lighter until even the most featherlight touches had Vaggie twitching and they were both sure her orgasm was over.

Charlie sat up and at first Vaggie was mortified to see her mouth and entire chin was soaked with the juices of her arousal but then Charlie wiped it away with her hand without a thought and lay back down with Vaggie, giving her a sensual kiss. Vaggie could smell and even taste a bit of herself on Charlie’s lips and was surprised to find it didn’t bother her, as long as it didn’t seem it bothered Charlie.

“You taste amazing,” Charlie said, as if announcing a new and marvelous discovery. “Sweet and tart. Like raspberries and cream.”

“Oh . . . um . . . thank you,” Vaggie said awkwardly and then they both burst into laughter, wrapping up in each other’s arms and giggling until the wave of euphoria had crested and ebbed away.

“Can I do that to you now?” Vaggie asked after their laughter had subsided.

“Fuck yes you can!” Charlie said, and Vaggie smiled. It was never like Charlie to hide her enthusiasm and excitement, so she shouldn’t have been surprised when she turned out to be exactly the same loud, exuberant woman in the bedroom.

____

Years later, at the new Hazbin Hotel

Charlie bolted awake from her nightmare, panting and near tears, taking a moment to gather her wits and realize she was safe and sound in the new hotel.

She looked to her side and sighed a grateful, relieved sigh when she saw Vaggie sleeping soundly next to her, undisturbed by Charlie’s sudden motion.

The night of the battle still haunted her and Charlie knew it would a while longer. She sat forward, wrapping her arms around her knees, thinking of all that had gone wrong.

Dazzle and Sir Pentious, gone forever.

Even the few fallen from Cannibal Town had Charlie’s heart tied into knots whenever she thought of their sacrifice.

Even Alastor, who was clearly suffering his own damages, though she knew he would never talk to her about it.

There were small victories. Cherri and her father joining them permanently at the new hotel were among her favorites.

And there was the kind of lightness in Vaggie these days that Charlie taken immediate notice of. Like a literal weight had been lifted from her girlfriend’s shoulders. She laughed easier, was less jumpy, less quick to defensiveness and anger.

Charlie had thought the battle would leave Vaggie emotionally scarred and more distant than ever when the opposite had happened.

In fact, she had rarely seen Vaggie without a smile on her face since Niffty had stabbed Adam.

Adam.

Suddenly the truth slammed into her and Charlie had to cover her mouth with her hands to stifle the horrified sob that threatened to erupt from her.

Vaggie’s voice from the first time they had tried to have sex rang in her ears as her memories of that night came back to her.

Like I was blessed to be given the position I was in.

He made us believe it was some kind of sacred duty for us to perform, our rightful role as women.

Vaggie had even confided in her months later that he always liked it best when the women just laid there and did nothing, missionary style.

All the signs had been right there, right in front of her.

She had even read about the very same thing, that horrid detail, when she found the writings the humans had made about “Lillith and Adam” in the Garden of Eden. How Lillith wouldn’t “submit” in the natural womanly way and wanted to be on top. How they had made Eve so that she would lie on her back for Adam and allow him to be the man he knew himself to be.

It filled her with rage. For her mom. For Vaggie. For every woman who had been plucked from the Earth and placed in Adam’s path by Heaven itself.

How could Heaven allow such behavior? Not just tolerate it but raise up the man who acted that way on a pedestal of fame and glory.

She hated them.

For the first time in 200 hundred years, Charlie hated.

She shouldn’t have told her dad to stop hitting Adam. She should have choked him out herself. Should have drove an angelic spear through his ugly, spiteful face and watched the light leave his eyes herself.

Charlie felt herself shaking, digging her nails into her palms and biting her lip until both were bleeding.

She’d seen far worse behavior in Hell, sure, but that was to be expected here and she still didn’t allow it in her presence. The pure evil hypocrisy of Heaven finally came into full light for Charlie and that night, she let all pretenses of ever trying to work with Heaven go.

They’d had their chance to right their wrongs.

She’d shown them over and over again that they weren’t so different, and they had laughed in her face and tried to murder her and everyone she loved just because she cared enough to be better when they refused to be.

Well, if they wanted a war against Hell, then that was what she would fucking give them.

[himimitsu]

angel

ੈ✩‧₊˚ kunikuzushi likes calling you angel

- kunikuzushi x fem!reader

- cw: smut, sub reader, tons of praise, 'angel' and 'good girl' as a nickname, soft and fluffy yes

it's been that way for as long as you've known him.

you've always been his angel, sent from the heavens to grace his life. sometimes it was embarrassing, like when he went into your classroom during lunch and referred to you as 'angel' in front of your classmates. or perhaps when he spammed the nickname in your messages while you were showing a picture to your friend.

but there were also the times where he held you close and shushed your tears, telling you that it'll all be okay. he'll keep holding you, he'll keep taking care of you, his angel.

ೃ⁀➷

"you're doing so good, angel... does that feel nice?"

there were also times like these. where you both trusted each other to be vulnerable and to keep each other safe. times where the bedroom would be filled with warmth, the soft sound of your combined pleasure, the quiet, whispered words of love.

"nghh- ah- kuni...!" you whimpered in his shoulder, arms wrapped around his body. he hugged you back, stroking your hair as he chuckled into your ear.

"yeah? feeling good, angel? keep making those pretty sounds, alright? good girl..."

he pushed in as far as he could go, grinding against you. rolling his hips slowly, letting out a groan at the feeling of your walls clenching tight around him. his self-control was running out with each minute he spent in you. he promised himself he would be gentle. his angel deserved to be made love to, after all.

for the past twenty minutes, that's what he was doing. ensuring your pleasure, and making you come once already. slow and gentle, kisses and his hands making sure to lovingly squeeze every soft part of your body.

though his mind almost went blank in lust when he accidentally thrusted a little too hard and a beautiful cry left your lips.

"ah- that's it..." he said with a shaky breath, his hands gripping tighter. "so beautiful... can I go a bit faster, angel?"

"mhm, please, kuni..." you whined. "need you, love you so much-"

his lips met yours, swallowing up your desperate whimpers as his hips moved faster, trying to stick to a rhythm. he left the kiss to rain kisses over your neck and chest, finding your breast to suck on it. he moaned softly, everything feeling just too good.

your love, your warmth, your soft body, kunikuzushi could barely hold himself back.

"i love you too, angel..." he groaned, feeling the flutter of your walls around him. each thrust found your sensitive spots, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. he seemed to recognize this as well, as he trailed his fingers down to massage your clit, sending a shock of pleasure up your body.

"you're so warm... ah- angel- don't tighten like that-" it almost sounded like a whine, unable to control his voice.

"ah! kuni-" you covered your mouth with one of your hands, muffling your pleasured sounds that grew louder by the minute. they were getting embarrassingly loud from his ministrations and you were so, so close- you didn't know if you could take much more.

"n- no, no, let me hear you." he said softly, moving your hand away and pinning it gently to the bed beside your head. "good girl... you sound like an angel, don't hide it from me, alright?"

you whimpered in response, unable to form words from his pace. you could only hold kunikuzushi in your mind, again and again. his love-filled gaze, his gentle kisses, the feeling of him filling you again and again, just the thoughts alone were making you crash into the edge.

"i- 'm gonna... hnn! kuni, kuni... 'm gonna-" You sobbed into his shoulder, feeling like you were floating. You needed to ground yourself, the pleasure was wound up so tight-

"g- good girl, angel- you can do it, be a good girl and cum, okay?" he said, putting more pressure on your clit. "i got you, come on..."

when you fell over the edge, kunikuzushi pressed his lips to yours immediately, muffling both your moan and his as he finished right after you. It felt so warm, so peaceful as you both panted against each other's lips, holding each other close.

messy, yet kunikuzushi wouldn't have had it otherwise.

"you were so good..." he murmured, parting from you to take a rag he prepared beforehand, cleaning you up. "my angel, all mine..."

"all yours..." you said softly, patting his hair as you watched his movements. once you were both cleaned up, he trapped you in a hug, not letting you move in the slightest.

"love you..." he murmured. "i'm so happy I met you..."

you both held each other for a long while, making a bit of small talk before falling asleep, closing another blessing of a day. for every day was a blessing when kunikuzushi had his angel, you.

[rvllybllply2014]

So I’m in a sad mood I guess, and my brain immediately went to Davron.

So in my version of Davron they always start out as friends, they become lovers and then enemies who still love each other. At the battle of the burning mill Aeron is killed, Davos watches as his cousin Ben stabs Aeron through the neck with his sword. Davos still loves Aeron to the point of he doesn’t care that Ben is his cousin and the future lord of Raventree Hall, he still tries to kill him.

Davos doesn’t succeed, but Davos does end up killing one of his best friends who tried to stop him from foolishly killing Ben. Once they get Davos to calm down, they tell him he will be sent to the wall. Davos begs for death, to him the wall is a fate worse than death how can he live knowing that the love of his life is dead; while also being an attempted kinslayer. But his pleas fall on deaf ears.

On the way to the wall Davos attempts to end his life. The only reason he doesn’t is because he hallucinates Aeron who calls him a craven, how dare he be the one to live only to kill himself. Aeron tells Davos that he has to live for the both of them now. Davos agrees, he doesn’t want to live but he’ll do it for Aeron.

At the wall all of Davos fellow black brothers leave him alone, they had heard what he had done and they also see Davos talking to himself. Years pass, Ben is lord of Raventree Hall, lord commanders come and go. It is soon time to vote for a new one and Davos is elected, not because he’s well loved but he’s the most skilled at everything. Aeron appears to Davos that night telling him he’s so proud of all that he has accomplished.

Aeron is also there to take Davos away when he passes away in his sleep at the age of 90. Aeron looks as good as Davos always remembered and he tells him as much, Aeron tells Davos to look at himself in the mirror one last time. When Davos does he sees himself as the 20 year old he was when he lost Aeron. The next day the black brothers find Davos dead in his bed with a serene smile on his face, the first one seen on his face in almost 80 years, the last one being the time he told Aeron he loved him when he was a mere boy of 14.

As for Davos and Aeron they ended up in a combined version of their respective heavens and spend the rest of eternity together.

[katerinaaqu]

Odyssey Parallels to my "Survivor's Guilt and Survivor's Duty" story (Rhapsody /Book 5 of Odyssey, Calypso's Monolog)

So here is a small break down of one of my most beloved fanfictions of Odyssey line by line from Calypso's monolog in 5th rhapsody of the Odyssey where she complains to Hermes for demanding to let Odysseus go, listing what she did for him. I find interesting how she speaks of the things she indeed DID do for him as if that somehow makes him her "property" or rather having a right on him (or as my brilliant friend @artsofmetamoor stated "like she was keeping a cat!" XD) Buckle up this analysis is long! XD

And I was the one to save him, while he was alone holding onto the ship's keel, for his fast ship was split open in the middle of the wine-dark sea by Zeus's thunder!

(Translation by me)

"Odysseus traveled once more; this time alone and grabbing upon the last remains of his beloved black ship… The night came cold and he was shivering. By the morning another storm caught up with him and his mast was once more drifted by the huge waves that resembled white top mountains, tearing apart his clothes and his flesh. And yet his hands endured… It was as if his heart and hands combined turned into oak or stones. The Man of many Torments endured. (From Part1)

Next day the sun was merciless over his head, sending him almost to the brief of hallucinations and heat as sweat was running down his already wounded body. The night the gods felt pity on him and sent a drizzle rain. Odysseus raised his head to the heavens trying to grab as much of the fresh god-sent water as if that would be enough to quench his insatiable thirst and the burning of the salt. Once a passing seaweed came close to him to which Odysseus made some sort of imitation of a meal for himself. How many times he nearly slipped off his life-raft he lost count…how many times he probably actually fainted on it he could no longer remember. And yet, the King of Ithaca endured…in strength that he had no idea he had. It was as if both his body and spirit had decided he had a duty to survive. He survived the agony and pain as well as the anxiety and fear every time something touched his foot beneath the waves or a passing fish would bite his legs. He had long stopped feeling much." (From Part 1)

"Therewith the worst came; a thunderbolt stroke the ship and the sudden flash and tremendous sound left them all blind and deaf. Odysseus screamed in pain shielding his ears. The ship cracked from side to side down in the middle; splintering in the winds like it was a pile of leaves." (From Part 1) => [This moment more graphically described by Odysseus himself in 12th rhapsody]

There all his goodly companions perished and the winds and waves brought him here!

(Translation by me)

"By night before the tenth day of his painful journey he had collapsed. He didn’t feel the sand beneath his body as his raft finally beached at a sandy beach. He didn’t move as some crab or beach beetle walked over his sea-beaten body. By dawn some hints of his consciousness returned. It was only for a brief second that the rays of sun touched his salt-crusted cheek but Odysseus saw or at least he thought he saw a tall slender figure picking something up from the beach many meters away from him (maybe a seashell). The figure turned towards him and walked there. And then everything turned black…" (From Part 1)

"He yelled till his throat was sore…till his voice was gone…he sobbed and cried tears almost as plenty as the waves of the sea. The storm was roaming around him… There was no one there to hear his lament… His voice was carried around by the wind…his tears were washed away by sea and rain…His body was borne by the direful winds… Six hundred men had started that fateful journey… Now there was only one… Now he was alone." (From Part 1)

I took him in with care and love and gave him food, I even told him I would make him immortal and ageless for all eternity!

(Translation by me)

"She slid her arm behind his back and half-raised him with unexpected strength, bringing the goblet to his lips. As the liquid touched those thirsty, dry lips, Odysseus gained strength anew to his arms; the type of strength you get when you need to survive. He greedily downed sips from the drink and aimed to hold it with his weak, shaking hands. He tasted the sweetest drink he ever thought he would taste; it was sweeter than honey, smoother than wine. It was all the tastes he ever knew and none at the same time. He coughed as the drink went down the wrong way but he drank more ignoring some that escaped his lips and down the thick layer of curly hair that adorned his wide chest. He was thirsty! He was thirsty to the point of madness!" (From Part 2)

"“My maids shall bring you some food, Odysseus. I believe you are strong enough to eat now. Nectar and potions we created should allow you to heal to that point” “I am grateful, beautiful goddess…” “Rest and regain your strength first” Calypso advised sweetly, “The rest shall come…”" (From Part 2)

"The weeks passed and Odysseus was indeed trying his best to keep himself in good condition. A few days more and he could walk about Calypso’s grotto without any problems and soon he felt gaining his old strength back. Eventually he got out of the grotto and got to explore the isle around and know his surroundings. Under the tender care of Calypso and her maids, Odysseus felt like finding himself again. He gained the weight he lost by his cruel misadventures and managed to built his previous physical strength." (From Part 2)

"“You nearly lost your life out there, darling… Why must you torment yourself over them? Why must your heart always mourn? Forget about this…mortal coil. Stay here with me…stay and rest, finally, Odysseus… You shall not want of anything here… I could offer you the gift of immortality… Never shall you fear sickness or death again! Never shall you find yourself in the same pitiful state that you were when you first showed up at my doors! You shall be my equal! All you need to do is ask…” (From Part 3) => [also remembering the first rhapsodies how Athena says t the council of the gods that Calypso aims to make him forget his homeland]

***

So yeah... I tried my best to follow the Odyssey but of cource details filled in by me! For those interested the three parts of this story are here!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

And of course viewe's discression is advised given the hard hemes it includes (yes it includes the mention of SA so yeah...sad and dark stuff)

My Calypso fanart based on my story

My Odysseus fanart based on my stories

[yggdrasilhypno]

One of my favorite all time induction methods is a pretty classic one: cocknosis. It’s simple, effective, and gives off this pure feeling of submission almost instantly. I mean, if you’re conditioned to fall head over heels into trance at only the sight of my cock, it would make it truly effortless to sink nearly completely down into nothingness. It all comes from the power and pleasure a cock can provide.

But, it’s not about the cock itself really. It’s about what it entails for you. It’s just another hypnotic object after all, swinging back and forth like a pretty pendulum, rocking you slowly into hypnotic sleep. It’s that sinking feeling, that instant submission, knowing that soon enough it’s going to be your entire world. Knees buckled, mouth salivating, completely controlled at only the sight. But that’s only the beginning.

I love to incorporate all the senses into a good trance, using everything to my advantage. Each one another stepping stone, another building block to create the best possible experience. Cocknosis uses all of these perfectly.

Let’s start with smell, my personal favorite. Imagine that perfect scent in the air, a musk unlike any other. Rich with the essence of the days of work under my belt starting to cycle through your nose. It’s almost intoxicating by itself, driving you into a primal urge and need. Losing thoughts with each breath, with each dose of my scent.

And as those thoughts pile out, you can hear your heartbeat slow down. Almost as if it’s being rewritten by the motion of my body, it slows and slows you down, each beat becoming even more important. Keeping you nice and stable in your state, hearing firsthand how my control has set in. Each beat is just another reminder of how deep you’ve gone, and how much deeper you can go.

It’s the sight of the cock that keeps you anchored, though. Watching its motion back and forth, keeping your attention as everything else becomes a blur. It’s what enraptured you at first, the sight of my cock drawing your eyes in as it took you down deep into the suggestible state you crave. The gentle ticks and tocks of my cock rocking back and forth like a clock, enveloping your mind and body into this beautiful sensation of warmth and pleasure.

But touch is even more important however. Just the smallest touch can send shockwaves of ecstasy throughout the body. Your hand becoming the vessel for your worship, your ticket to heaven. Each part of your body that touches my cock becomes corrupted, forever linked to pleasure as you crave more and more. That corruption fueling you further to touch and explore more, giving yourself up into depravity all for that rush of bliss.

Let’s not forget taste however. Just imagining the taste on your tongue, a beautiful mix of ecstasy and sweetness. Like an aphrodisiac, one taste is enough to get you hooked. Each hit of flavor keeps you coming back for more, sending you further down into complete mindless abandon. Leaving sanity at the door, the taste corrupting you further and further into nothingness until you’re on the floor, brainless and unable to process a thought without the slightest idea of my cock.

So finally, let’s combine these, shall we? The sight of my cock, swinging just for you in that hypnotic motion that you can’t help but stare and gawk at. It’s rocking you into a deep trance, and the sound of your heartbeat slowing down only encourages you further on. Getting dizzy off the scent, it seems like you can’t wait another moment before you need it. And so, your hand slowly begins to explore my cock, getting hooked on the shocking pleasure it seems to send throughout your body with only the smallest touch. More touching, more depravity as the scent begins to overwhelm you into complete insanity over my cock. Finally, you decide to take a taste, which proves to be the final nail in the coffin. The aphrodisiac like taste hits your tongue, and you’re sent into an ecstatic frenzy of excitement, nothing holding you back from complete and utter pleasure. All five senses being molded by me, used to send you into a fit of mindlessness where all you seek is bliss. This pleasure overwhelms you, and you can’t help but cum your pretty little brains out. As your body gives way to relaxation and that energy turns into a beautiful afterglow, your mind begins to cycle through once more, becoming nothing but a puppet for my entertainment~

If you’ve sunk nice and deep, feel free to ride this feeling for as long as you want. Until next time~