#and it feels so good to be able to set up my altar out there in the open

[offorestsongs]

mission moving out went very successfully, we're back to our regularly scheduled bullshit <3

[elsiewritesss]

a smut of the reader and Vinnie getting married and they decide to have a quickie before the wedding

Before the I Do's

pairings: vinnie hacker x fiancé reader

warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected sex, swearing, slight fingering, slight choking, exhibitionism (slight i think??)

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“We gotta make this fast baby.” Vinnie whispered loud enough for Y/N to hear.

The two of them locked themselves in a bathroom far enough away from anyone to hear them.

“Okay. Just hurry.” Y/N whined as she pulled up the fabric of her white wedding dress for Vinnie to have easier access.

Here they were, on their wedding day. The two anxious of not being able to see one another until their first look brought all the sexual tension with it. When it was time for the first look, anyone could feel the sexual tension, which led them to where they are now.

The two snuck off to a bathroom twenty minutes before the ceremony started and they have not taken their hands off of one another.

Vinnie reached under the dress, feeling up until he reached the fabric of Y/N’s white lace thong.

“Fuck baby, I cannot wait to rip these off later tonight.” Vinnie spoke against her lips as he undid his belt with one hand, pulling down his pants just enough to free his pulsing cock that slapped right against his stomach.

Vinnie moved forward as he picked Y/N up and gently set her at the edge of the counter, giving him perfect access to slowly ease into her.

“Oh fuck,” Y/N whispered, her pussy welcoming every inch of him until his hips were flesh with hers.

“God baby you feel so good.” Vinnie moaned softly as he began to rock his hips.

Y/N bit down on her lip as she closed her eyes to quiet herself as Vinnie hit every right spot inside of her.

“Fuck baby…take me so fucking- good. Can’t wait to fuck this pussy all night tonight.” Y/N whimpered at his words, moving part of her dress as she looked down at the sight where the two of them met.

“You like that pretty girl huh? Watching me fuck your perfect pussy?” Vinnie lightly grabbed the front of her throat, tilting her head up to look at him as she nodded the best she could. Her small whimpers coming out as she still had her teeth latched onto her bottom lip.

Vinnie took his hand that wasn’t holding her hip and began to rub small, fast circles on her swollen clit.

Y/N’s teeth unlatched from her lip as her mouth opened, a moan falling out as Vinnie quickly pressed his lips against hers.

“Quiet baby. Don’t want anyone…knowing how well I’m fucking you right now.” He whispered against her lips as she began to clench around him.

“Come on baby, know you're close.” Vinnie quickened his pace on her clit, his thrust getting rougher.

“Vin-Vinnie,” Y/N breathed out, grabbing onto Vinnie’s biceps for support as she reached her orgasm.

Vinnie’s orgasm followed behind as he spilled inside of her, his thrusts slowing to a stop. All that could be heard was the pants of the two trying to catch their breaths.

Vinnie slowly eased out of her, watching as their combined juices spilled out of her before he leaned down and pushed it back in.

“Vin. St-stop. Sensitive.” Y/N squirmed as Vinnie held her hip down.

“I know. I know.” He whispered, satisfied with himself before placing one small kiss to her red puffy clit, fixing her thong back in place.

Vinnie stood back up, fixing himself before placing Y/N back down on the floor and fixing her dress around her.

“Okay. I don’t have sex hair and my makeup didn’t smudge. We’re good.” Y/N looked at herself in the small mirror above the sink before turning back around to Vinnie who was already smiling at her.

“We should probably get back out there.” Y/N whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck as Vinnie’s went around her waist.

“I’ll see you at the altar pretty girl.” Vinnie spoke, leaning down to capture her lips in a kiss as Y/N reciprocated the kiss.

“I’ll be the one in white.” She whispered back before opening the bathroom door and slipping out.

[notjustjavierpena]

Ofrenda

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Happy Day of the Dead to all of my followers! I hope you’ll take this time to reminisce about the loved ones that you have lost, and smile when you think of them. I thought of my mom the whole time while writing this, and it makes me sad to know that I live in a country where we view death so gloomily when life should be celebrated. I have written this with utmost respect for the Mexican tradition, trying to do endless amounts of research. I have also written this with endless gratitude to be able to express my love for Javier and his family as well as my own mother at the same time. We never get enough time together, so this beautiful holiday is so heartwarming. Hope you like it ❤️!

Summary: You make an altar with your family for Javier’s mother during Día de Los Muertos.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18, depictions of grief, loss of a (grand)parent, family dynamics, so much love in this little family, domestic bliss, non-explicit descriptions of sex, love confessions

Word count: 3k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60151243

Ofrenda

You are in the kitchen, cutting the stems of marigolds on an angle into the sink. The scent of the flowers is citrusy and slightly spicy, complimenting the lemon cookies that are in the oven and nearly done. Beside the sink lies several bare stems too because Lucas is holding a bowl of their petals in his small hands. 

He shows it to Inés, “You need to take a handful.”

“But I want cookies,” she only looks down into the bowl of orange for a moment before her attention turns to the oven, her little hands reaching out until you manage to stop her. She makes a noise of complaint but the mood of the room makes her dial down on how much she wants to fuss about it.

“The cookies are not for us!” Her brother replies with a serious look in his eye, clearly feeling authoritative in the task at hand, “They’re for Abuela (Grandma).”

“I’m sure you can have a few of them. She won’t mind,” Javier declares with a chuckle as he enters the kitchen too. His presence makes you smile to yourself, another burst of citrus filling the room as you cut yet another collection of flowers. You’ve filled almost two vases with them, have chosen the ones decorated with your favorite patterns, and fluffed them to look like two balls of sunshine. 

“But she needs them. If she doesn’t get them, she doesn’t know where to go,” Lucas insists with a pout when his father crouches down between the two of them. He gives a look of concern as if he is the only one taking this seriously. You look over your shoulder and feel a flash of pride at how sensitive a boy you have made, but you don’t intervene because you know Javier has the situation under control. 

“Sí, mijo (yes, my son),” he places a hand on the back of his son’s head, pulling him in to kiss his hair, “They’re for her but I am sure she’ll be happy to see you enjoy them too. She liked sharing with whom she loved.”

“Cookies for grandma and Inés,” Inés says proudly as if she finally understands the importance of the baked goods. Lucas’ expression eases a little as he stares at his baby sister’s longing but then he says her name. 

When she whips her head around, he shakes the bowl of flower petals, showing them to her again. You can see how much Javier loves how he is taking this to heart. 

“Just a little handful, okay?” Lucas encourages. 

Inés’ little fingers dig into the petals, bringing up a much larger fistful of the bright orange marigolds than intended. She stares at them with wide eyes, enchanted by the strong color. Her little mouth falls open with a quiet pretty and she nods seriously. Lucas nudges her with his elbow, directing her back to the task, “Come on, we gotta put them on the ofrenda (altar) so Abuela knows we remember her.”

They exit the kitchen and make their way to the small altar you’ve set up in the living room. You check the timer on the oven but there’s still eight minutes to go, so you and Javier take a vase of flowers each and carry them to the table that’s been draped with a bright, woven cloth, and adorned with pictures, candles, and memories of Javier’s mother. 

As you set down the vase of marigolds, you spot the tiny figurine that you have come to know so well too; a figurine of La Virgen de Guadalupe. She stands by the picture of Javier’s mother, face tipping towards her as a silent protector. The photograph of her is from when she was young enough to be just a few years out of high school, smiling widely with her dark hair tied back like you have seen so many times in other photos. She looks so much like Javier and how you remember her from the very first photo you saw of her, the one that you sneakily glanced at back at Don Chucho’s ranch on Javier’s desk in his teenage room. The one that the figurine stood guard over. That was before you knew what kind of life awaited with her son but you’re sure it was when you realized what kind of husband he would be. 

Javier sets down his vase as well, his eyes lingering on the photo of his mother for a moment before he busies himself with adjusting the flower arrangement, testing out a few angles. You touch his shoulder in silent support and smile gently at him. It earns you a little smile in return, one that seems full of gratitude and love. 

“You okay?” You mouth. 

Javier nods. He finally lets go of the vase and at the same time, a deep breath of air, suddenly satisfied with his work because his heart feels lighter. Not long after, he leans in to kiss you briefly on the lips, eager to make you giggle as he steals another peck while you complain about being covered in specks of flour and sap from the flowers. It’s messy, you say. He thinks you’re perfect. 

As you draw away from each other, Inés and Lucas scrunch up their faces and crinkle their noses at the display of affection. However, even so, you can see the tiny smiles hidden behind the mock outrage. They stand by a little impatiently as they watch you smooch, a drizzle of orange petals trailing Inés due to her getting distracted and forgetting they’re still in her hand. 

“Inés!” Lucas has the same exasperated look on his face as earlier when he notices the mess. You said earlier that it would be Inés’ first year of joining in on creating the altar and understanding its purpose, and Lucas has taken his role in it very seriously. He is clearly feeling the responsibility of teaching her the tradition right now. 

“Sorry,” she drags out the word, a guilty expression on her face, and tries to bend down to scoop some of the petals into her palm again, only seeming to increase the mess. 

Lucas puts down the bowl of petals to help her, coming off as slightly distressed. He has furrowed his brow as he concentrates, acting as if the entire success of this moment is relying on him, “Abuela can only visit if you put the flowers on the table!” 

“Luke,” you crouch down after exchanging a look with Javier. You soothe your son by running a hand up and down his back, “Abuela is always with you. This is just to do something extra special for her.” 

“But what if she can’t find her way?” Lucas asks with concern on his face as he puts down the bowl and starts gathering marigold petals, “We have to make it special.”

“Mamá’s right, we are making it special, mijo, because of all the care you’re putting into this. That’s what’ll guide her here tonight, not whether the cempasúchiles (marigolds) are perfectly placed on the table,” Javier reassures gently and crouches down beside the two of you, Inés mirroring him immediately. All four of you start picking up the remaining petals from the floor and Lucas visibly relaxes a little more, reassured that things might not be catastrophic after all. 

Your husband takes Inés’ small hands in his and guides her through the process of gently scattering the flowers across the table, their vibrant color standing out beautifully against the crisp white cloth. The orange and gold complement the papel picado on the wall behind the altar too. 

“Flowers for Abuela,” Inés scans the sight before her and then claps her hands with a big grin. She beams with pride, so much so that even Lucas finds her joy infectious and smiles as well. Inés points her little fingers to her work, “Making it special!”

“She’ll see those flowers and know you put them there for her,” Javier explains, still crouching on the floor next to Inés. She leans into him. He wraps his arm around her and pulls her even closer so he can plant a little kiss on her cheek, tickling her with his mustache until she giggles.

“Did Abuela like flowers, too?” Lucas asks and moves onto his father’s other side, resulting in him also getting dragged closer. From the look on Lucas’ face, you can see that it has been his plan all along

“She loved them,” Javier answers with a reminiscing smile, “You remember how many flowers there are in Abuelo's (Grandpa) garden, don’t you?”

“Yes!” Both Lucas and Inés say right after each other.

“Abuela planted them and she loved them just as much as she loved lemon cookies,” their dad recalls fondly and there’s a twinkle in his eye as he adds, “Well, almost just as much.”

At the same time, the timer in the kitchen dings. Inés whips her head in your direction expectantly and you laugh softly as she itches to tell you to get a move on, 

“I’ll get the cookies,” you say to make Inés sparkle with glee. You give Javier’s shoulder a gentle squeeze before slipping back into the kitchen. You can hear your children chatting softly with their father as they stay by the altar.

In the kitchen, you take the cookies out and place them on a cooling rack, enjoying the familiar scent of sugar and butter that wafts through the kitchen. The cookies are still very hot to the touch but you carefully transfer a bunch of them to a plate. 

“Here we go,” you say as you reenter the living room. 

“And she had this laugh… Oh, when you really got her going, it would echo through the whole house,” Javier shares. 

“Like Mom,” Lucas says and follows you with his eyes.

“Much like Mom, yeah,” Javier agrees and you smile shyly as all eyes land on you. They have shifted to sit down on the floor in front of the altar, moments ago staring up at the colorful display while Javier told stories of his mother. Now, the three of them have stopped talking when they see you place the lemon cookies on the table, anticipation on their faces. 

“Hola, esposa (hello, wife),” Javier says with a soft smile, the kind that makes your cheeks warm because you know he loves you. 

“There are plenty of Abuela’s favorites left in the kitchen,” you say as you take four cookies from the plate and make sure the rest of them look presentable. Then you kneel down next to your family, handing each of them a still-warm cookie, “Careful, they’re still hot.”

With the altar complete, the four of you sit together on the floor, a quietness settling over you. Between the picture of your mother-in-law, the lit candles flicker and cast soft, dancing shadows. The combined scent of the marigolds and the lemon treats makes the room smell lemony and spicy, and small decorative butterflies catch the eye between the paper banners. 

Inés nibbles on her cookie, looking deep in thought, so you reach out to brush her hair out of her face. Her soft voice finally asks, “Do you miss her, Papá?”

Javier stops right as he is about to take another bite of his cookie. He takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly, his expression unreadable for a moment. It seems like a gut punch but one that he has learned to expect from having small children. He thinks for a second then nods. When he speaks, his eyes are shiny as they prick with tears and you can hear a slight trembling in his voice, “I do, baby. I miss her every day.”

Inés looks shocked at having caused her father to cry. She puts her cookie down on the floor and you quickly scoop it up. She crawls to sit in front of him on her knees, wiping away a tear that has made its way down his cheek after reluctantly escaping the corner of his eye, “Are you sad?”

“Yes, sometimes,” he breathes and looks down, sniffs, “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to say sorry,” Lucas argues, looking to you for reassurance. 

You nod and move to sit closer to Javier, pulling him into an embrace which he returns by holding your arm. You look at your son while resting your chin on top of Javier’s head, “Go on, Luke.”

Lucas takes a moment to find the right words, visibly skimming through the lessons you have taught him to find the one that applies here. He joins the hug, “Mom says that it's okay to feel sad when we miss someone because it means you really love them… It makes me feel good to miss Mom when I am at school because then I remember her.”

Inés, who has been quietly observing, joins as well. She rests her head against his shoulder, "We love you, Papá."

“I love you too,” he says and the words seem to give him a little courage, “Of course, it makes me sad, mija (my daughter). But having you, your brother, and Mamá here. It helps.”

“I know I say it all the time but I wish I could have met her,” you chime in and kiss the top of his head repeatedly, trying to keep it together yourself, “She sounds like an amazing woman.”

“Inés and I wish that too!” Lucas adds, “We can do this every year!”

“Make cookies!” Inés exclaims excitedly. They both eventually pull back after remembering the baked goods. Returning to lemon cookies laid out near the ofrenda, they chew happily. You snicker at Inés' excuses to eat anything sugary and squeeze Javier tightly before drawing back too.

“I think she’d like that,” Javier sighs with a little smile, taking in the picturesque view of his family.

A few more minutes pass and you gently remind your children of the time, “Alright, it’s getting late. Let’s say goodnight to Daddy and Abuela.”

They exchange hugs and kisses with their father, and then - while she is perched on your hip - you hold Inés near the altar. Both of your kids lay their palms on the table, talking gently.

“Goodnight, Abuela,” Inés says and pats the cloth.

“We love you,” Lucas adds tenderly.

They follow you upstairs to brush their teeth, wash up, and get into their pajamas. You finish bedtime routines with much more hugs and kisses, tucking the both of them in and thanking them for a nice day. Inés still has questions about her grandmother but you tell her that it’ll need to wait for tomorrow. When she seems restless, you trace your finger over her face until she dozes off. 

When both kids are asleep, you return downstairs dressed in your own sleepwear. You find that Javier has cleaned the kitchen and is sitting on the couch in the living room. He glances at the ofrenda out of the corner of his eye, looking thoughtful and melancholic. You can see how much Inés resembles him in the evening light. 

You silently go to sit down beside him, holding his hand between the two of you. 

"Thank you for today," he says softly, leaned back into the sofa and his head turned towards you, "For helping the kids understand."

“You are so wonderful with them,” you reply with a gentle smile, "They love her because you love her, and because she's a part of who you are."

“Still, I couldn’t do this without you, mi vida (my life),” he stresses and inches closer, slowly removing the gap between the two of you. You lean in and rest your forehead against his, a sigh of relief escaping him at being so close to you, “You make everything better.”

You don’t respond with words. Instead, you close the remaining distance between you and your husband, kissing him lovingly in the glow of the altar and the moonlight shining in through the window. 

Yet Javier seems to have more in mind when he reaches up to cradle your cheek with his large hand. He rubs his thumb along your cheekbone, eager as he deepens the kiss. It earns him a chuckle from you as you draw back slightly.

“Not in front of your mother,” you whisper to tease playfully. 

“She’d probably tell me to make sure I’m treating you right,” he laughs quietly, thumb still caressing your face, “Keeping you happy.”

“Then you are succeeding,” you tell him with sincerity, keeping all the playfulness he has ignited at bay to show love instead. He responds by getting up from his seat and pulling you by your hand, making you giggle girlishly as he brings you to blow out the candles for the night while whispering in your ear. 

Then he leads you upstairs and makes love to you, slowly and passionately. It’s all long, slow kisses and quiet gasps as you arch your back when he touches you to orgasm. He knows you inside and out, what you need, and what you feel. You’d like to say that it’s the same the other way around, that you know him just as deeply. 

In the afterglow, you rest your head on his chest and feel his hand caressing your hair. His heartbeat is slow, his breathing almost steady again. You look up at him and feel so much affection that your head swims. An idea pops into your head in the beautiful clarity that follows being with him like this, “Tomorrow we could go to the cemetery if you like. We could take your dad too and get him to bring some flowers from his garden.” 

“I’d like that,” he replies, his fingers playing with and brushing your hair to the side absentmindedly, “Pop would appreciate that. It’s been a while since we all went together during Día de Muertos. Yeah, let’s do that.”

“That’s settled then,” you kiss his chest.

“Fuck, I love you, esposita (my little wife),” he says happily, absolutely in disbelief at your perfection. 

“I love you too,” you respond with a shy grin.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[fluidity-stupidity]

Random Witch Tips

Just a few things I've learned from being in a practice for over five, going on six, years now:

Sigils are a lot more powerful than everyone really knows, they're a beginner friendly spell waiting to be had.

Scroll Spells: Putting a sigil on a piece of coloured construction paper tie it up with a (preferably) different colored string, seal the string in wax, is the easiest spell to ever do. (Kind of inspired by Naruto)

Speaking of Naruto: I have little Pop Funko key chains that I've picked up at travel household guardians. I also have one of MCU Loki that the Norse Deity Loki has taken an offense to (ping me or send me an ask for a storytime)

Divination can be used and done everywhere, the little sayings on Stevia packets, having your phones wallpaper change different colors are base it off of the colors, music (shufflemancy), are all just little ways to use divination.

Making altars not just for divine individuals. I have an altar set up for the zodiac sign of Scorpio (my stellium is set in Scorpio and Sagittarius) and an altar set up just for self-care. (Please remember the differences between altars and shrines.

Baking ingredients are an underrated spell jar ingredients, sometimes you just don't really feel like kitchen magic and/or in a tough bind for time, energy and just want something a bit more big and powerful than a scroll spell.

Scrying mirrors were always a bit of a hassle for me, it hurt my eyes and I had to get the angle just right, having to sit in one position for too long was a wreck on my unmedicated ADHD self. I learned how to do open-eye scrying by relying on my snow vision, having 3D glasses was able to help me out as well.

Speaking of the 3D glasses: any common every day object can be used in your practice. Using that limited edition Sprite Cranberry would be a good spell ingredient or even as an offering for a deity/divine individual.

Divine individuals will ask you to put things like jewelry or keys on their altar so that they know whenever you go out on a drive or out with friends. Especially if you don't go out very often. They just like hanging out with us sometimes, they're not just here for fun and games however, you have to put in the work and have the motivation to get better for them to get more comfortable with you.

Divine individuals have a life outside of witchcraft, their own society and workload outside of our physical plane. Please keep this in mind. They are not always here with us. Lucifer has paperwork, Poseidon has a kingdom to rule over, An Morrigan has children to take care of, make certain to respect these.

[mama-emeritus-i]

You're My Sacrifice (Frater Imperator!Copia X Reader)

Frater Imperator!Copia X Reader Smut

SPOILERS FOR RITE HERE RITE NOW. KEEP SCROLLING IF YOU DON'T WANT THAT. Dude... Dude... I originally wrote this for Terzo but I knew I had to make this Frater Imperator after seeing the movie. Rite Here Rite Now made me feral, so enjoy. I'm going to hell in gasoline underwear for writing this.

Warnings: This is blasphemous and sacreligious... like seriously. Improper use of ritual oils, altar smut, Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) but I think that's the least of your worries in this one, glove kink, I didn't proofread this (if, I, do, then, it, would, look, like, this), plot if you squint with 20/20 vision

SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT. DON'T SAY I DIDN'T TELL YOU

"Copia, where are we going? Isn't it a little late for chapel?" While you two had been friends since childhood, this all started right before Copia's ascension to "Frater Imperator"- a tangled dance of more then friends but not anything with a label yet. He was usually very gentle, never trying to adventure outside your bedroom, so it was a surprise when the young Frater took you aside after dinner, leading you through the darkened hallway, towards the chapel.

You heard Copia mutter a small "Forgive me" under his breath as he continues to lead out through the center of the room. The stained glass murals and old oil painting sit there, illuminated by the moonlight, staring at you- as if they knew what was going to happen.

You both walk up the shallow steps, stopping before the altar set up behind the podium. Copia steps behind you, placing his leather clad gloves on your shoulders as you hear his voice, just above a whisper.

"Do you know what this is, Caro? Its an altar... My altar and tonight you are going to be my sacrifice... if you are alright with that, that is?" his voice was rough, and filled with lust and something utterly debauched. You nod, before placing your hands on the altar, feeling the silk cloth under you fingers. Behind you, Copia admired the sight before him, inhaling sharply as you arched your back.

After a moment, he finally speaks, "Very Caro, but not good enough... yet." You felt Copia's hand on the small of your back, guiding you to bend over the altar. He gently took your wrists in his free hand, guiding them above your head and resting them on the teal cloth.

He moves away for what feels like forever, leaving you in this vulnerable position. Anyone could just walk in at any moment, and see how the great Frater Imperator was going to defile you as a sacrifice, in a way that made satan himself turn his head. The thought of it made desire pool and your face flush red.

When Copia returned, after just a few moments, he held a cinture in his gloved hand. You can almost feel the small smirk that tugs at the edge of his lips as he sees you exactly how he left you. Before you could truly process what was about to happen, Copia made quick work of knotting the rope around your wrists and hands. Despite how incredibly intimate this whole situation was, he was handling you like glass, as if you were going to break if he was too rough with you. He muttered something to himself before gently kissing your cheek, his now free hands sliding under the rope to ensure that it would be comfortable for you.

Copia's body felt like it was on fire, and only you were able to tamp out the flames, need engulfed every inch of his skin, and the only way to douse this fire was to sink into his sacrifice. Sure, he has had flings and the occasional relationship, but with you it was different. You made him feel whole.

Everything in him is telling him that is wrong, that he should just go back to his duties, and continue as he always had, but he doesn't. He can't.

The Frater Imperator stepped back to admire his work, the way your arms look all stretched forward and bound, almost like fresh caught prey. The way your black heels dig into the carpet; the way your ass was on perfect display for him, and him alone. When he lifts the hem of your dress, you felt his gloves against your skin, exposing you to the cold of the chapel.

My... My... this shows quite a lot caro mia, do you know how much?" You turn your head to look at the man before you, watching as he slides his gloves off, exposing his hands. His eyes were blown out with lust, his focus on you.

"I know, I can feel the air on me, Frater." Copia knelt down behind you, chucking slightly as he notes that your dress does indeed just cover what it was supposed to. However he also notes how the smallest lift or breeze would expose your soaked core to him.

His finger gently ran through your still clothed slit, before eventually cupping your core, it was hot and swollen against his skin, and it took Copia all of his willpower to not absolutely ruin you.

"I... it feels wrong to say this, but I want to be rough with you tonight, I want everyone to know you're mine, but you need to tell me Caro, is that alright?" Always the gentleman to check up on you, even when he was so intoxicated by you, his nerves feeling like they were vibrating.

"Please... Copia, be rough. Leave marks, show everyone that I am yours." You barely finish the sentence before you feel a kiss on the back of your neck, then a loud smack against your ass, before a gentle hand runs across to soothe you. You feel something warm and liquid against you as Copia dropped some of the ritual oil into his hands, rubbing it across your ass and legs- anywhere he could reach you.

"Stand up and turn around" His voice was gentle as he helped you move back up to your feet and turn towards him. The look on your face was enough to send Copia to hell right then and there, your look of absolute bliss and need. His swim in his mind of everything he wants to do to you.

Copia kneels down again, making work of the white ropes on your wrists, before taking them in his hands, gently kissing your wrists and hands. He then moved one hand up to your dress, slowly unzipping it and letting it pool on the floor with the now forgotten rope, before quickly taking your panties off and letting them join the fabric puddle.

One hand still clasped in yours, Copia takes a minute to stare at you, like you were the first rain of a drought or like you were Aphrodite herself. You help him remove his clothes, slowly removing the clips and jacket, followed by the top, and after a bit of struggle-the pants (he has to jump into those things, let me real).

Usually he stays relatively covered during sex, as the past few months have not been kind to him, but you can't take your eyes off of the new Frater Imperator in all of his glory. He pulls you into a kiss, his lips were a bit swollen, but so giving and soft. You feel him groan into your mouth as he tried to claim your mouth with his tongue.

His hands never leave your body, moving from your breasts, to your waist, hips, wherever he could find purchase against you. You only move away when you can't catch your breath any longer. Copia helped you sit up on the altar, motioning for you to lie back on the table.

The altar was long enough to fit you comfortable, with room to spare. Copia's hands travelled across your stomach as he moved towards the back, facing the pews as he used to do every Friday morning. A kiss behind your ear before he slowly runs his lips across your jaw, and down your neck, leaving a small trail of black face paint, your back arching to meet him at the gentle touches.

His gentle touches were like a breath of fresh air, and you were both reveling in every minute of it. Once he reached the bottom of the table, he moved your legs apart, biting the inside of your thighs.

He circles every inch of your core with his tongue, wanting nothing more then to stay between your thighs forever, eventually moving to pay attention to your breasts. Kneading, sucking, and biting like a man starved and the only thing that could satiate him was your skin. He didn't stop until you were moving against him, almost writhing there.

Eventually you feel his hand move down to your soaked core, feeling it drip onto the cloth below you. Copia slowly inserted two fingers into you, and you could swear he was enjoying the feeling of feeling you more then you were enjoying the feeling of him curving his fingers into you, trying to find the spongy spot inside of you.

He was groping and squeezing you in the most debauched and feral way, his slow and calm demeanor slowly starting to wilt, feeding on your sighs and small noises. After many weeks of sex, he knew your body ques, ever the observant man- halting his movements, and removing his hand when you were nearing your tipping point.

The noises of frustration that left your lips made Copia harder then he can remember ever being. You can tell he wasn't fully thinking straight, as he climbs up on the altar table with you, kneeling between your legs. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, trying to find a way to pieces his words and thoughts together.

"You are absolutely divine... This..." Copia took a deep breath, lining up his cok against you, pressing against your entrance, "this is your body..." he leans down, sweeping you up in a kiss as he plunges inside of you, breaking it soon after- letting out a breath "that is you, that you gave to me."

He was patient, waiting as you got used to the stretch, Copia knew how to use what he was given so even after all this time, it felt like getting the wink knocked out of you as he buried deep inside you. Copia on the other hand, was worried that he was going to fall apart and cum right then and there, feeling you clench against him- trying to adjust.

Once you nodded, giving the all clear, he pulled out, reaching down and rubbing your clit, feeling as you grip onto his cock like a vice. He starts off slow, trying to gage how you feel... until you start pushing back against him.

"please... be rough with me. I need it, I need you, Copia." You slide your arms around him, pulling yourself to whisper in his ear, "I want you to fall apart the same way I fall apart for you... I know that's what you want, Frater Imperator." With a groan to test out the waters, Copia all but slammed himself into you, as you feel the primal and hot need climb up your spine.

"Forgive me..." You hear Copia mutter as he fully lays over you, holding himself up with his arms, effectively pinning you down. He moved into you over and over again, knocking the breath from your lungs each time. Even if he wanted to, Copia could not stop- the way your velvet walls hugged him made him feral, and the whimpers and moans from you were not helping.

He could see the ritual oils against your skin, the smell of lavender and tigers blood reminding him just how debauched this is. The sounds of slapping and moans filled the empty chapel, as the portraits and stained glass of the windows looked down on them.

You spit out incoherent sentences, and it was making Copia's mind foggy "close... so close, only for you Copia... please". He continued to try and thrust deeper into you, kissing you deep and furious, as if he was worshipping you. After one particularly hard thrust against your G-spot you snapped, writhing and bucking against the table, your nails leaving claw marks across Copia's back and shoulders. Watching you fall apart under him, Copia wasn't far behind, spilling into you soon after.

You both just laid there for a while, Copia pulling out, watching his spent spill onto the table below you, not leaving back to your rooms until the wee hours of the morning.

"Amen..." you mutter as you both lay there in total bliss.

[dark-frosted-heart]

True Vows to the Pitch Black Bride - Roger Barel

The 2024 wedding event

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this.

(W-what do I do…)

Amidst the solemn atmosphere, I stood anxiously before the altar.

(I feel like I’m about to pass out…!)

Filled with both anticipation and anxiety, I couldn’t get any sleep last night.

(Not only that, the tightness of the corset was making me dizzy…)

We’ve yet to say our vows or exchange rings, but I started feeling faint.

It doesn’t look like Roger’s noticed.

(He’s unaware…)

Old pastor: Let’s now exchange the rings.

He took the proof of our vows and lifted my left hand.

(I looked down to hide the fact that I didn’t get enough sleep)

Looking at my ring finger, I saw it wrapped in silver.

(Pretty…I’m really Roger’s wife now)

I felt a sting in my nose as I remembered how I got here.

Never in my wildest dreams did I think a day would come where I’d be able to marry a man who wasn’t even interested in marriage.

(In fact, when I decided to hold a ceremony, he didn’t reject it, but he didn’t look too enthused either…)

As a rationalist and an egoist, he didn’t see the need to hold a ceremony—

(I told him I wanted one so it happened)

—but he never rejects anything I want and makes it happen.

It’s what I love about him.

I slid the ring on his finger with trembling hands and saw his smile through my veil.

Old pastor: Now let’s seal your vows with a kiss…

I straightened up and faced him, but for some reason, he didn’t lift my veil…

Kate: Roger?

The moment I said his name—

Kate: Huh?!

—He easily threw me over his shoulder.

Kate: W-what are you doing?!

I flailed in protest, but he was completely unfazed and walked away from the altar.

Roger: Sorry, but I got no interest in showing others the best kinds of faces the woman I love makes when kissed. Thanks for coming. We’re gonna enjoy ourselves now.

With a smile as bright as the sun—

Kate: Please wait! Wha…

Roger: Stop moving, it’s dangerous.

—We ran off into a London after the rain.

--

(I didn’t expect him to run all the way back to Crown Castle with me over his shoulder…)

I was hiding my face in embarrassment as he set me down on my bed.

Roger: Go to sleep.

Kate: Huh?

A hand slid through the gap in my dress to loosen my corset and he sighed when he saw how relieved I looked to be free from it.

Roger: You haven’t been getting enough sleep.

Kate: H-How…

Roger: Usually your heart beats pretty fast when you’re nervous, but it’s been pretty slow since the ceremony started. You can’t hide it from me. Sleep deprivation’s bad for your health.

When he tried to pull the sheets over me, I grabbed his arm to stop him.

Kate: The ceremony’s still not over yet!

Roger: It’s over. To be honest, I noticed this morning but didn’t say anything because you were looking forward to the ceremony.

Kate: That…

(I’m the one that wanted the ceremony, so it’s frustrating to leave it unfinished)

My frustration must have shown on my face because he patted my head.

Roger: It worked out. You did good. 

His kindness warmed my heart, but then I remembered that there was one thing we haven’t done yet.

Kate: Kiss! We haven’t kissed to seal our vows!

Roger laughed at my words.

Kate: What are you laughing at? It’s important.

We haven’t kissed to seal our vows yet.

Roger: You’re right, we only said our vows earlier.

He sat on the bed and planted his hands beside my head.

Roger: But before that, I already made my vow to you.

Kate: Huh?

Roger: I stole everything from the woman who loves me, and I gave everything. At this point, it’s too late for “in sickness and in health”. I’ve already kissed those lips and sealed our vows dozens of times now.

I felt my body heat up at the realization that every kiss was a vow.

(This whole time, Roger’s been making vows)

Roger: But if you want it, then I’ll lock it in.

He leaned over to straddle me with his usual smile and cupped my cheek with a large hand.

Roger: I’ll be yours for as long as I live. Do you swear to be only mine?

I placed my hand on his cheek and replied.

Kate: I swear. I’m all yours.

The smile on his face as he got closer shot through my heart and I locked in my love with the hunter who stole everything from me, vowing ourselves to eternity. 

[pedropascalsx]

Yours for the Weekend. {Javier Pena x F! Reader}

Summary: Javier returns to Laredo for a Long Weekend after being informed by HR he must use up his paid time off.

Warnings: A little angst, age-gap dynamic, kissing, nothing sexual in this chapter but marked explicit for future chapters. Reader has no physical descriptions.

Word Count: 3.2k

Chapter: 1 of 3.

A/N: Had this idea yesterday and wasn’t able to put it down. A huge thank you to the amazing @frannyzooey​​ for editing, making the most helpful suggestions and being an incredible cheerleader. I am super grateful for you!

His nose scrunches up at the smell of freshly mowed grass and burning asphalt as the piping hot Laredo sun blazes down on it. 

He was home. Kind of. 

After working tirelessly and refusing to take any time off for months, HR had no choice but to demand he at least take a long weekend. Back to Texas, to see his Dad and spend the next few days tackling the jobs Chucho wasn’t able to do by himself, before rushing back to Colombia.

It had been just over a year since he last walked the familiar streets of home, ignoring the harsh whispering or the unwelcomed praises of their hometown hero. He’s never really sure of what he hates the most, the digs about how heartless he was to leave his high school sweetheart at the altar or the constant droning of how he is a hero; tackling drug crime with both hands at the expense of his own happiness. 

After a while it became white noise, constantly crackling in the background and itching his brain in a place that he could never scratch. He has no doubt that this visit will be the same.

His cab pulls up to the Peña family ranch with Chuchos truck nowhere in sight. Javier pays the driver, insisting he keep the change as a tip before going to the back to grab  his bag from the trunk. Knowing his dad would have made a fuss and insisted he pick him up from the airport, he hadn’t told Chucho he was coming back, and Javi didn’t want him to undertake any more unnecessary tasks so decided a surprise would be best.

Unlocking the door and stepping back inside the house he called home for most of his life is a feeling that he never fails to appreciate. The smell, the exact same furniture his mom and dad had picked out many years before and the sense of security is something rare that he allows himself to enjoy. A brief moment of serenity before he convinces himself he’s not a good enough man to enjoy the simple things.

The time of day and lack of food in the house alerts Javier to his Pops location. No doubt sipping an ice cold beer and chowing down on whatever special Rita has scrawled out on the chalkboard that sits slanted at the end of the bar. Food sounds good. He thinks to himself briefly before scrambling in the junk drawer for the set of keys to the spare truck that only gets used when Javier comes back into town. 

‘Everything stays the same,’ he hums to himself as he pulls up to the bar, the sight of Chuchos truck making him chuckle as he parks up next to it.

Loud and unsurprisingly busy, he weaves through the crowd with his head down to go unnoticed, the corner of his mouth turning up as he spots his Pops in his usual seat chatting happily to Rita at the bar. 

“Well, if it isn’t my lucky day!” Rita says with a beaming smile, “Both handsome Peña men in my bar at once! You never told me Javier was back in town.” She scowls at an equally surprised Chucho.

“I didn’t know myself!” He exclaims before pulling his son in for a hug. “What are you doing here?” 

“Had a few days to kill,” he says before pulling back, with the first genuine smile on his face for longer than he cares to admit, “Figured you’d be here as soon as I opened the fridge.” 

“Best chow in town,” Chucho remarks with a wink. “Sit down.” 

Wordlessly Rita hands Javi a beer and then shouts to the kitchen to add another special to Chuchos order, “On the house.”

“How long this time?” Chucho asks before taking a sip of his beer, his arm resting happily on the top of Javis back.

“Long weekend.” It doesn’t take long until people are coming over and thanking Javi for his hard work in Colombia and letting him know how proud they are of their ‘hometown hero.’

“Leave him alone,” a soft voice calls out, immediately grabbing Javi’s attention. He watches as she balances two plates with an insane amount of sides on a large tray. “Let him eat in peace,” she warns the room of patrons with a stern look. 

“Thanks dear,” Chucho chimes in as you place a plate in front of him and then one in front of Javi. Adding the sides between them both. “Enjoy, let me know if y’all need anything else.” 

“Thank you,” they both reply in unison, making you smile before heading back into the kitchen and grabbing your next set of plates. 

“How much longer do you think you’ll be out there?” Chucho asks, knowing that he’s unlikely to be happy with Javier's answer. 

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly, “Depends on the DEA I guess. Lots of work to do.” 

“Mhmmm,” Chucho hums in response, digging into his enchiladas and deciding on having a lighter conversation.

“We should stop for groceries on the way home,” Javi remarks before taking a large chug of his beer, “Maybe grill up some steaks tonight and have leftovers for lunch tomorrow. The fence outback is fucked… we can work on it in the morning, get as much fixed before I head back out there.” 

“Sounds like a hell of a rest you’re planning for yourself there, mijo.”

Every now and then you appear from the kitchen, a wide smile spread across your face as you hand out dishes and serve beer. And every so often you catch a glimpse of him, seemingly unsure of himself as he sips his beer and eats his food. Clearly aware that much of the focus on the room is on him. Not all of it good.

You’ve been there. In a similar situation where the small minded folk of this never changing town whisper loudly about your indiscretions, your mistakes and intimate parts of your life that none of them have a right to know. It makes your heart ache as you wonder if that’s what really sent him running. 

You’d heard bits and pieces about what happened, the town had gathered for what was likely to be a beautiful wedding, the church filled with excited guests eagerly awaiting to toast the happy couple but it never happened. He had cold feet and confessed that she deserved better, she deserved to marry someone that wanted the life that she wanted and it simply wasn’t him. He left town shortly after that and began his work with the DEA. 

It didn’t take long for the woman to move on and marry someone else but even after all these years, people still hold a grudge, a grudge that you now knew personally.

You lean across the bar quietly, counting your tips and preparing to clock out for the end of your shift before catching a glimpse of him again. A small smile sits on his face as his Dad vividly tells him a story, and before you have a chance to look away his eyes flash upwards and meet yours. Both of your eyes linger for a few seconds before your attention is ripped away by a customer demanding another beer, and you graciously oblige.

The sound of barstools scrapping has you looking up again, watching as the Peña men gather their belongings and leave payment and a generous tip on the bar for you. 

“See you tomorrow, querida,” Chucho calls over to you, “If you could add Javi down for the quiz that would be much appreciated.” 

 “Of course, Chucho. It was nice seeing you again.” You say, looking over at him and watching his face contort in confusion as he clearly begins trying to work out when and where you’d met before. 

“She’s a good girl,” Chucho remarks as they walk towards their trucks, “Made a decision similar to one of your own, but didn’t have the means to leave town.”

“I can't place her,” Javi admits with a hum, wondering what decision you had made.

“Sirenita,” Chucho says with a hearty chuckle, “The youngest Juarez girl.” 

“Oh shit,” Javi says, raising his eyebrow, remembering the nickname that had stuck, because you were always clutching a mermaid doll as a girl. 

**

The sun is no longer uncomfortably hot as Chucho turns the steaks on the grill, watching Javi silently plate up the precooked sides they had picked up from the store. 

“Other than that fence what else can we tackle before I head home? I was thinking we could replace the railings out front before I go… They’re not as steady as they should be, and don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’re relying on them more than ever.”

“Eat.” His dad replies ignoring his son's concerns. “I’m.. I’m glad you’re back, mijo,” he sighs, “Even if it’s just for a few days. I miss having you around.” 

“It’s good to be back,” he half lies, he’s happy to see his father, happy to have the security that the four walls behind him provide, just not looking forward to the very real possibility of running into the ghosts of his past that seem hellbent on haunting his future.

**

“We should have just walked,” Javi scoffs as he attempts to find a space to park outside Rita’s. “I forgot how busy this place can get.” 

“If you didn’t spend so much time making yourself pretty, we would have gotten here with plenty of time to find a space.” Chucho remarks before pointing out a spot just a little further down the road.

They both hop out of the truck and slowly meander towards the bar, watching the small crowd of people disappear inside, “Before we go in,” Chucho says, “You’ve got to realize that the work you do down in Colombia means a lot to the folks up here. Shake their hands when they come up to you, accept the compliment and take a sip of your beer. You’re like Santa Claus to some of these people. A rare sight. And they just want to thank you.” 

“Pop—.”

“No, Javier, I know you hate it, I know it’s why you dragged your heels about coming tonight but just take it in your stride. For me.” 

Javier nods a few times before bringing his hand to the top of Chuchos back, leading him towards the bar and taking a large inhale as he enters the bar and headfirst into the chaos.

He does as his father asks, shakes some hands, gracefully denies the offers to buy him a beer and makes his way through the crowd with a smile plastered across his face.

“No, Chucho! Not there!” Your voice calls out from the side of them, “Figured the guest of honor would prefer a booth that’s a little more out of the way than your usual haunt.” As you point to the booth at the very end of the bar, situated next to the makeshift stage that you’ll be calling out the questions from. 

“Thank you, Chucho,” say as he greets his usual quiz team, watching with glee as they all greet Javi and give him their thanks and well wishes. 

“Two beers?” You ask Javi, who’s looking at you with a grateful smile.

“Yes please… Sirenita.” He smirks.

“Ugh,” you groan, “Did you figure it out or did Chucho give you a heads up.”

“My Pops,” Javi admits with a shrug, “I-uh- I’m sorry I couldn’t place you. It’s been a long time since I saw everyone.”

“Don’t apologize, I was still a kid when you left. Now I’m all grown and thankfully that terrible nickname has since been retired by the folks here.” You say with a giggle. “I’m sure you’ll hear that I’ve joined you in the highly exclusive ‘Lotharios of Laredo’ club.” 

He doesn’t have time to respond before you’re making your way back through the crowd and collecting two ice cold beers. 

By the time you make it back Javier is deeply engaged in conversation with one of his fathers friends, answering question after question about the Escobar operation with a slightly uncomfortable ease. 

“Good evening folks,” you say, before rolling your eyes at the enthused cheers from the audience, “Rita is on security duty, so if y’all even try cheating… Well lord, I, myself, will pray for y’all to have a speedy recovery. 30 questions. 3 highest scoring teams will win a prize. Let’s go!”

**

15 questions and multiple arguments across the table later a short intermission is called for bathroom breaks and beer refills. Javier sits quietly at the table watching you for a few moments. You’re still on the ‘stage’ and going through the sheets of paper with the next set of questions written on them. With a final chug of his beer, he pushes himself out of the booth and takes a few short steps towards you.

Clearing his throat he waits patiently for you to look up, “You okay there?” You ask with a smile, that makes his chest feel warm and fuzzy.

“Uh, yeah, I was just curious…” He says with a shrug, “This ‘exclusive club’, how exactly did a nice girl like you get inducted to it?” 

“Maybe I’m not a nice girl,” you tease with a wink, “Tale as old as time. Childhood sweetheart arranges the ‘perfect proposal’ in front of the flower stand at the farmers market so basically the whole town can witness it and so I couldn’t say no.”

“Oh, shit… but you did? You did say no?” He asks with a twist of his lips.

“No, no, I said yes. But after booking a venue and trying on countless amounts of hideous gowns I couldn’t take it anymore and called the whole thing off, only to find out that his Mom had sent the invitations I wasn’t aware had even been made.” 

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, “That shit with paired with people's small town mentality isn’t fun.” 

“It’s okay,” you say honestly, “They whisper about me more than you now, so at least this visit shouldn’t be so bad.” 

“We will see,” he chuckles before Chucho slides up next to him and hands him another bottle of beer, “Anyway I best go back to my seat, keep this one from causing chaos.” 

“Yeah. You should really keep an eye on that one,” you giggle, before scrunching your nose up at Chucho and grinning as he bops you on it. 

The rest of the evening goes by without a hitch, you find yourself stealing more glances at Javier, unable to ignore just how handsome he is and you catch him looking back at you a few times. Both of you simply smile at each other when you do. 

You announce the winners, happily to see the Peñas team came in third so have won a round of beers that they all seem thrilled about.

“Okay, I am asking everyone as nicely as I can,” you say with an inhale, “As I am the only one staying on to clean up tonight, please don’t leave your tables too cluttered tonight. Now go! Leave! Get home safely.” 

“They work you too hard,” Chucho says with a shake of his head, “You shouldn’t be clearing up by yourself. Me and Javi will stay.”

“No,” you won’t, you say with a head shake of your own, “Your back has been giving you trouble all week. Go home, Chucho.”

“She’s right, old man,” one of Chuchos friends says with a chuckle, “You’d just get in the way.” 

“I can help though,” Javi interjects, before turning to Mitch, “If you can drive my Pops home, I’ll stay and we will get it down in half the time.”

“You really don’t need-,”

“I know,” he says before tilting his head and leaning towards you and whispering, “But us ‘lotharios’ should look out for one another.” 

“Fine,” you say with a scoff, “But lunch for both of you is on me tomorrow. It’s Chuchos favorite barbecue.” 

**

You’re surprised at just how quickly you work together, you wash the plates and throw out the large collection of beer bottles as he clears the tables. 

“Could you stack the stools on the bar?” You ask, seeing that he’s finished with the tables. “I don’t vacuum until the morning, but it’s just easier to move them up the night before.” 

“Sure… How long have you been working here?” He asks, as he lifts up the first stool.

“Around six months… Rita hired me after the wedding shit. I wanted to pay back the deposits that his family had spent. I don’t need that shit hanging over my head.” You murmur, “People just love to throw that stuff back in your face around here… Figured if I paid it back, they couldn’t.” 

“Smart,” Javi murmurs, “You back living with your parents?”

“No.” You shake your head and place the final glass into the pallet before stepping out of the kitchen. “They barely talk to me, still furious over the whole thing. I live in the apartment above the bar. Rita really helped me out.”

“Mhmm,” he hums, “Yeah, I’m not surprised. She was never on board with me marrying Lorraine… I’m glad I don’t have to worry about you getting home,” he says with a kind smile. 

“No, just up the stairs. Thank you for staying and helping though. I really appreciate it.” 

“Yeah. No problem. I won’t be sleeping for a bit anyway, and Chucho will be snoring by the time I get back.” 

You finish up the rest of the clearing up with small talk, telling him the story of a few weeks back when Chucho had the entire bar participating in the most horrendous rendition of ‘La Bamba’ known to man and grinning at the way Javi snorts with laughter. 

Noticing it’s the first time that he looks genuinely relaxed, the smile on his face soft and not stiff. He looks younger, just as handsome but his big brown eyes shine a little brighter.

“Do you want to stay for coffee? Or a whiskey? Whatever you’d prefer.” A voice that sounds eerily like yours asks. 

He stares at you for a few seconds, weighing up his options before looking down and shaking his head, “I better not. It’s not that I don’t want to… But it’s better for you if I don’t.” 

“Oh,” you say, nodding your head before shaking it. “Why?” 

“You already know how people talk,” he says with a shrug, “A whole bunch of people saw me offer to stay and help you clear up. You don’t deserve—.” 

“I stayed,” you scoff, “If I cared about what people thought of me, I would have left. I would have found somewhere, but it’s fine, Javier, if you don’t want to stay… don’t.” 

“I said that it’s not because I don’t want to,” he repeats as you round the bar. Stepping toward him until you’re practically toe to toe. 

“Then stay,” you whisper, watching as his restraint snaps and whimpering as his hand shoots out behind your hand and drags you closer to him. His mouth covers yours in a needy kiss. He groans as he captures moans of your own, swallowing them down as he presses you up against the bar.

He’s only here for the weekend after all. 

[inthedarknessofnight]

Since summer is slowly coming to a close over here in the Northern Hemisphere and we’re all eagerly awaiting the first autumn chill, it’s the perfect time to cling onto those summer vibes for just a little while longer (yes, I am super nostalgic about the seasons changing, can you tell). It’s why I’ve decided to put together a little list of my favourite *atmospheric Steddie fics* that, in my opinion, are the perfect way to round out the summer of 2024. So, without further ado…

End of Summer Steddie Fic Recs

1. Summer ‘86 by how_about_no

An incredibly wholesome fic in which Steve and Eddie slowly fall in love over the course of a week, spent at Steve’s beach house. Very fluffy, very flirty.

2. honeymoon phase by Ayes, coincidental, itskleo

For starters, we get mechanic Eddie. I don’t actually know if this one is set in the summertime, but essentially, Steve gets left at the altar and takes Eddie, his best friend, on a trip to Italy, which should have been his honeymoon. Vivid imagery of warm days spent in the Italian countryside. And smut. Obviously.

3. Among the Wildflowers by ParadimeShifts

After the whole Upside Down fiasco, Wayne and Eddie move out to a farm in the mountain valleys of Idaho to try and live a normal life. While Eddie was able to leave behind his entire life, the one thing he wasn’t able to leave behind were his feelings for Steve Harrington. Well, a year later, a broken Steve Harrington shows up on his doorstep. God-tier smut. You have been warned. This one also comes with its own Spotify playlist that takes the reading experience to a whole new level, I highly highly recommend!

4. Dog Days of Summer by WabiSabiPapi

If, like me, you are a sucker for the aesthetic of the Pacific Northwest, you NEED to read this one. Set in a small lake town in Oregon, the story takes place over a period of six years, during which Steve and Eddie go from enemies to friends to lovers. Super vivid imagery and a truly heart wrenching, beautiful story of friendship and love. Honestly, this has been THE fic of the summer for me, if not one of the best Steddie fics I’ve ever read. Absolutely sobbed my way through the last chapter.

I really really cannot sing enough praises to all the fics mentioned in this post, they are all so incredibly good and deserve more love ❤️☀️

Anyways, feel free to drop your own recs in the comments and let me know if you’d like me to do more themed fic rec lists!

[hellenicrisis]

I'm thinking about adding Christianity to my pre-existing helpol practice. Is it odd to be scared? I'm worried that I won't be able to worship any god to my full potential because I'm worshipping so many. Do you have any advice on how to balance helpol worship + beliefs with Christian worship + beliefs?

Hi there, sunshine! ☀️

No, it's not odd to be worried about that. Human beings are limited in our capacity and attention so it's a natural concern. I went through the same period of trying to balance the practices. Here's some of the things I do that I've found useful.

I have a set day of the month for each of my deities depending on the lunar cycle. I have a post about that here if you're interested. Essentially, scheduling out time to devote to deities individually really helps me so it's something you could try.

As far as balancing the beliefs, I don't find that difficult as there are many similarities between Ancient Greek and Christian philosophies. The goals of living your life in a spiritually clean way, glorifying God/the gods in how you live, etc. I'd personally read through the Delphic Maxims and the Commandments. I find that they overlap quite a bit and it's a good place to start to find that link between the beliefs.

I also think that, especially if you're coming at Christianity from a pagan perspective like I did, worshipping Christ in a "pagan" way helps in the integration of the practices. I have an altar set up for him, I wear devotional jewellery for him, I leave him offerings and libations, just like I do for any of the pagan deities I worship. Don't treat him any differently if you don't want to. Go to him as you are.

I personally love being Christopagan, I feel like a child of the world, getting the best of both philosophies. I'd say start simple and easy, and don't be afraid of being "too pagan" or "not Christian enough". You'll become more comfortable over time.

Thanks so much for the question! I hope this helped a little and that I wasn't too vague. Please feel free to reach out again.

Khaire! ☀️

[gothicaphrodite]

I love all my gods equally, even if I consider myself a devotee to two of them and worshipper of the other three. They've all been great to me in their own different ways.

Aphrodite's warm embrace that makes me feel held at all times, especially when I need it most, the joy she's brought back to my life when no one and nothing else did before.

Ares' fierce support, how he always gives me strength to get to the finish line, the push I need to run that last lap so my efforts can finally pay off and then I can rest easy.

Persephone's never-wavering offer of resilience and protection, her mercy as well as ruthless justice, her refuge and promise for a better tomorrow.

Dionysus' passionate encouragement, his always standing hand-holding to free myself from all my chains, his unbreakable acceptance of me as I am even when society hates me.

But Hermes has been so fucking kind, giving and patient to me in ways I can't put into words.

Hermes and Aphrodite were the only ones who gave me gifts as soon as I asked, before I set up proper altars or did any offerings, I just had to promise I would pay them back and they immediately trusted my word and gave away their gifts to me. I'll always be grateful.

I'll never be able to thank Hermes enough.

His bright, rascal laugh, his incredible patience*, his delightful casual approach, how light-hearted he feels in a way that almost feels humble but it only makes him more godly, how attentive he is, the way he felt like a hilarious and very sweet, trusted old friend as soon as I first prayed to him.

I started my worship of him because my fiancé and I took a brief vacation and it was my first time travelling by plane, and soon after I thought I'd get a chance to work as a flight attendant, which strengthened my push to worship him. That didn't work out in the end. I've been looking for a job for 2 years, my fiancé and I really need more money.

And now I just realized I'm finally getting a chance at a good position that deals entirely with communication. I cannot see this as anything other than Hermes' answer to my prayers.

Thank you. Thank you so much.

*Not that my other gods haven't been patient to me too, but Hermes? Wow.

[katz-rambles]

Hiii I hope that you're doing amazing.

Can I request a fluff fic where reader is Copias daughter and after he summons Phantom they start to fall for each other. Maybe something like forbidden romance trope. I would be so grateful if you'd write that. Byee 😊😊

Yes!! I'm not the best at forbidden romance, but I'll try my hardest. 💗

2.8k words. It's not the best, and I didn't write it amazingly but I hope it's good, Anon!

(fluff, my take on a ghoul summoning, Google translated Italian. <- Please correct me if it's wrongly translated!)

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰

Today is the day. The clergy meets together in the abbey to summon a new ghoul. A day you finally get to attend. The walk to the room is almost painfully slow, the energy is building inside of you and it makes each step you take feel like forever. Not very many people are awake at this time, it’s almost midnight. Most siblings have retired to their rooms and the ghouls are in their den. There’s only a small handful of people still awake, half of them are meeting in this room.

“Where is this room?” You can’t help but ask, your father looks behind him to look at you. He looks around before answering you. “It’s not a place most people get to be in, you see. It’s been hidden away so curious siblings don’t stumble upon it,” Copia explains, pausing between some words to take a breath. He grabs your hand and pulls down a hall you swear wasn’t there before. The hallway itself is eerie looking with tall dark walls that seem to never end, stained glass with pictures you can’t figure out line the rooftop, and if it weren’t for the moon shining through you would have never seen them, there’s doors placed among the walls, and they’re clearly old, the wood is chipping off and the door knob is rusted. The hall just never seems to stop going.

Copia places his arm in front of you and you slow your pace. In front of you both lay tall double doors with writing on them, it’s old and not in english or italian so you aren’t able to translate it. The horrid creak that comes from the door opening pulls you from your thoughts and back down to reality. As soon as you step inside you can feel the shift in the air surrounding you, it gets colder and heavier, pressing down on your shoulders while sending a chill down your spine. There are windows that follow the intricate brick pattern, lining the walls and then stopping when they reach a tall altar of sorts. Candles lay on the altars, there’s three of them from the looks of it and then there’s one big one that sits at the back of the room. All sorts of gifts and pleasantries sit at the bottom and even some on the top.

“Papa. Sister. I’m glad you could make it,” Someone you don’t recognize extends his hand to you and you politely shake it. He places a candle in Copias hand and than one in yours. When you scan the room you can see the start of a summoning circle, a large pentagram made out of a chalk has been drawn. There’s candles surrounding it, one set on each point, all different colours. There’s two empty points and you place your candle down on one of the points, when you set it down the candle changes from the normal white wax to a diluted green. Copias change as well but into a deep blue. Symbols are drawn beside where your candle sits. Each symbol meaning something different.

The top of the pentagram has an arrow-like symbol, it represents spirit. Going clockwise the next almost looks like a disfigured number four, it represents water. Next is an odd shape that you don’t know quite how to describe, it kind of looks like a K, it represents fire. The one after it almost looks like an upside down cross, there's a circle that sits on the top of the symbol, this one is earth, the one you placed down. The last one looks almost identical to the one before it, just larger, this one has to be air.

Now that all the candles are set, one by one, they start to flame up, each flame a different colour as well. The candle for spirit, the wax is the same egg white it was when placed but the flame is a blinding white, the one for water has a deep blue and the flame has turned in to a dark blue that casts a light that looks like the sea, the candle for fire is a bright red and the flame burns the brightest and hottest, easily overtaking the candles around it, the earth candle has gone into a diluted green and the flame almost the same shade. The light cast by earth's candle looks like vines crawling up its point of the star, the candle for air has gone yellow, it looks like the same shade kids draw the sun in, and the flame is the same shade, it’s not as bright as the flame for fire but it’s just as hot.

“I think we are ready to begin,” One of the people in this room announced to the rest. A giddy feeling starts in your stomach, your first summoning. You grab the outreached hands on either side of you and when everybody is ready,chant begins, a language you can’t understand nor follow along with, you awkwardly look around, your fathers following along, but when you look over you see someone else who isn’t saying anything and you two sheepishly exchange smiles and look back. At least you’re not the only one who hasn’t been here before. One by one the points of the star get brighter and the middle of the pentagram seems to be losing light despite the burning flames. The chant continues, getting louder by the second. The middle gets darker and darker until it looks like you could fall into it, or something could come out of it.

An odd noise comes from the hole and you find yourself and the person from before giving each other confused looks and awkward shrugs. You almost scream when a shadowed figure escapes from the whole, desperate screams follow as it climbs out. That must be the pit that the ghouls have told you about. The candles start to get brighter, but the one representing spirit seems to be the brightest. The figure pulls itself up and out of the hole, almost as quick as it opens it closes, leaving the screams to be silenced. The flames dim back down to how they were before, and then they all go out, leaving a thin veil of smoke to cover the figure.

“It’s done,” Someone says, but you’re too focused on trying to process what the fuck just happend, and you’re glad to see the other person just as confused as you are. You let go of the hands that you were holding and cringe at the sweat that's started on your hands.

You start to move over to the person when you’re stopped by a loud sound, a mix between a growl, a scream, and a screech. It’s deafening and horrifying. You force yourself to look over and see that the veil of smoke has lifted and the figure, which you can now fully make out as a ghoul, lays in the middle. You try and get a better look at what is going on, you see one of the people here has grabbed a blanket or a robe, you can’t really tell right now. They lay it on the Ghoul and your father sits in front of it. He’s talking to the ghoul but he’s sitting in such a way that you can’t even try and read his lips. The ghoul seems to relax a bit at his words and sits up, pulling the blanket over to cover itself.

As the ghoul responds, Copia ushers two of the people over and they take the ghoul with them, to get fitted anc cleaned, you assume. When the ghoul leaves people start to disperse and you quickly follow after Copia. “What the fuck just happened?” You ask, your voice much harsher than you had ment it to be. “A summoning. We got the ghoul. That’s it. It tends to be a bit shocking the first time, but you’ll get used to it,” Copia explains, not in as much detail as you would want but you let it go and start to walk back to your room.

—

After the summoning you see the new ghoul, or as he's now called, Phantom, around quite often. More often than you see the others, but he's new so he's looking around. You don't blame him, this place is huge. Though you've never seen a ghoul near the siblings quarters before, that was a shock.

You won't complain, if anything he's kind of cute. He's almost like a puppy. Though you've never actually talked to him, you've just seen him from afar. If your father caught the way you looked at him, you're sure he'd lecture you on spot.

This morning wasn't going to be any different, you'd get dressed, go to breakfast and do whatever had to be done. That was until you got about half way to the dining hall and came face to face with Phantom. He's not too much taller than you, so it's not quite as intimidating as it would be if he was somewhere near Mountain's height.

He's looking right down at you, even through his mask you know he's looking at you. “Sister, you're Copias daughter,” He states, it's not a question so you assume he knows, you're not quite sure what to do now so all you can do is nod and hope you don't seem like an idiot. He tilts his head to the side and back to the middle, almost like he's searching for something on you. He leans down so you two are actually face to face and he places one of his hands on your cheek, making sure his claws don't scratch your skin. There's a loud noise that comes from down the hall and you both look over and when you look back he's gone. Deciding to try and continue on with your day as normal, you go down to the dining hall.

You take your seat with some of the siblings you've grown quite attached to. You tap one of them on the shoulder, someone you'd call your best friend, Isabella, when she looks over you start to recount what happened just a few minutes ago. “Really? I mean.. maybe he's just trying to get to know you, you were at his summoning. Maybe you should tell your dad,” She shrugs, obviously just as confused as you are about this. Other than that odd interaction the rest of the day goes smoothly, until it doesn't.

Again, he's there again. Almost like he knew you would be there. This time he doesn't wait for you to come up to him, by accident or not, he goes straight over to you and leans down once more. This time you don't try to avoid his gaze, you stare right back. “Hello?” You sheepishly try to start a conversation with him, hoping to get more than just a few words out of him. He doesn't say anything back to you, just a smile, with the charcoal shade of his skin it looks like he has too many teeth with the way they're such a contrast to each other. He places a hand on your shoulder, the contact is warm and, against your better wishes, starts to create little butterflies in your stomach.

“Phantom! Come on, you don't want to be late for your fir- oh.. Sister, I didn't realize you two were talking,” You watch as Rain starts to stumble over his words, and Phantom lets go of your shoulder and smiles at you once more before leaving with Rain. That was by far one of the weirdest things that had ever happened to you.

You decide to go talk to your father about it. It's probably just because he's a new ghoul and has curiosity, and like Isabella said, you were at his summoning. The door to your fathers office is a tall dark oak door that has a plaque with the words “Papa Emeritus IV'' labeled on it. When you open the door the first thing you notice is how ungodly warm it is inside his office. “Dad?” You call out and hear a thunk noise from the side room and see him quickly scramble out with a pile of paperwork in his hands. You chuckle and grab some of it to place it on his desk.

After you two get sorted you start to tell him about what's been happening. “La mia amata figlia.. (my beloved daughter) I think he likes you,” He chuckles and grabs his pen. At his words you feel like your eyes bulge out of your head. You open your mouth to say something and then close it again, like a goldfish. “Wha- He.. huh?” You stumble over your words, your mind going blank as you try and think of the right words to say, yet they never come.

That didn't clear anything up. But you couldn't help but feel a little happy that he might like you, you were there when he was freshly pulled from the pit, and even though you didn't realize at first, you were the first person he looked at, and even with him wounded and dirty, he still looked beautiful. You can't help but feel guilty for the way your heart races and your cheeks warm at the thought. You hope you get to run in with him again.

There's a soft pattern of rain hitting the window when you lie down in your bed, the sound soothes you. As you start to feel your body relax your mind drifts to the strange interactions you had today and the talk with your father. You haven't seen Phantom much, not until today, so what ever changed.

The next day goes the same, except this time when you run into Phantom, it's on purpose. You see him in the hall and decide to go up to him. “Hey, Phantom, right?” You tap his shoulder and when he turns, you're surprised he didn't give himself whiplash, you have to cover your mouth to stifle the laughs at his reaction. “Yep, that's me,” He gives you one of his smiles, the ones that seem like he has too many teeth. You two manage to have a pretty nice conversation, and the whole time you're trying to keep your heart rate steady, it feels like your heart may pound out of your chest at this rate.

“So, are you going to talk to him again?” Isabella sits down beside you and raises her eyebrows and wiggles them and you scoff and gently smack her. “I don't know,” You sigh and she chuckles. She rests her head on your shoulder and looks up at you. “You should. I saw the way you two talked today. He likes you,” She says with an eager smile when you agree to talk to him again.

When you go and look for him, he isn't anywhere to be found. Not in the hall, or the practice room. You can't find him. It's strange, you've even checked the garden. You're just about to go back to your chores when you feel a pair of hands on your waist pull you back. One of the hands leave your waist and cover your mouth. When you look back, ready to punch whoever it is, you see Phantom behind you. The first thing you notice is how he isn't wearing his mask. He puts one of his hands on your face and leans down to you. This time it's direct eye contact.

His eyes are a comforting shade of purple, almost lavender. It looks like he's scanning you. “Phantom?” You reach up and press your hand on his face and he leans into your touch. You can hear him purring and it reminds you of a cat. “Hi,” He leans in so your faces are closer together. He rests his forehead against yours and you move your hand down to his neck. “You were there, weren't you?” He asks, his brows furrowing and his lips pursing when you nod. He pulls you closer, and hugs you tightly.

“I like you, sister,” He sighs and takes a deep breath through his nose, taking in your scent. “I know I shouldn't, but I do,” His voice gets lower against your neck, and you place your head against the crown of his head. “I like you too, I don't think I should though,” You laugh and you can feel his lips curl into a smile against your skin. He lays his forehead back against yours. “Then no one shall know,” He whispers and you nod. His lips press against yours, it's slow and gentle. When you pull back he gives you one last smile. “No one shall know,” You giggle and let him kiss you once more.

[vpyre]

hiii if u still wanted asks for that sentence starter thing, how about number 20 said from someone(reader if u want) to copia? 👀 feel free to ignore this of course!

20. Just wait and see what I’m going to do to you once I get you alone.

Ohoho, you knew exactly which one I wanted to write ;P

Thanks for requesting dude! <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Copia, in full papal regalia, stands resplendent behind the pulpit. While the bishops handle the regular congregation, Copia leads services for the members who hold some sort of rank, ranging from siblings of sin to cardinals.

He’s just started off the unholy communion, and you’re already feeling itchy with displeasure. The way some of the other clergy members look at him when he puts the wafers in their mouths is bringing out the possessive streak in you, and the longer it goes on, the harder it gets to keep your feelings under wraps.

Soon enough it’s your turn, and you stride right up to him and kneel, raising an eyebrow at him. He glances uncertainly down at you as he sets the paper-thin wafer on your tongue, unsure what that look might mean. You gesture for him to lean a little lower than strictly necessary so you can hiss at him, “I don’t like how the others are looking at you. If I had it my way, I would bend you over that altar right now so everyone would know you were mine.”

His eyes widen and his ears go a little red, and you can tell he’s struggling to keep his expression as neutral as possible. He’s not doing a very good job. You smirk and let him turn away to pretend to fiddle with the wine chalice while he gets his face under control. Immensely enjoying how flustered he is, you stare him down the whole time while he shoots you looks that are equal parts anxious and amorous. He’s distracted enough that he almost spills several times before finally turning back to you and holding the cup to your lips. You hold his gaze as you drink deeply, unblinking and brazen. He stares right back as if entranced, and in that moment, it’s like he’s the one kneeling at your feet instead.

You finish and stand, but before you turn to leave, you put a hand on his shoulder in a deceptively friendly gesture, lean right up close, and murmur, “I wouldn’t ruin your image like that (unless you asked), but I do want to ruin you. Just wait and see what I’m going to do to you once I get you alone.”

He’s lucky he’s wearing his paint, because, judging by the way his pupils dilate and his lips gently part, he’s probably flushed a beautiful shade of red. It’s also very lucky he’s wearing robes, since, knowing him, he’s likely fighting a boner and losing.

Satisfied that he’ll be able to think about nothing else the whole service, you go back to your seat, ready and eager to watch him struggle. You know he feels your eyes on him the entire time, even when he’s not looking at you. He stumbles over his words every so often, and it usually coincides with a glance at you, followed by that hazy look that others might not pick up on, but that you could recognize anywhere: he is almost certainly vividly imagining what you are going to do to him.

[that-norse-pagan]

Low Energy and Accessable Deity Work

I've gotten a few DMs now that inspired me to make this post- Thank you All who asked, I love getting post inspiration !

I know not every Norse worshipper (including myself!) does not always have time to put full efforts into their work. I personally am disabled and sometimes I am in and out of hospitals, as well as simply don't have the energy to keep up! Sometimes my altars sit dusty for months.

I want to start by saying Deities are forgiving. While some have seemed frustrated with me before, they always end up settling back into routine with me in time. I tend to start by dusting off and cleaning the altar when I have the time and energy, as well as give an offering and prayer. The short of it is-

Modern Life gets busy. You get Busy. You get sick. They understand. They won't hold it against you or abandon you.

Now for the actual advice! (Sorry for the long intro 😅)

APPS:

I find apps to be incredibly helpful when I don't have the energy to do a full workup to my worship. There are apps that you can draw and read tarot cards from, apps to track moon phases, apps for runes, all of it! Some of my most useful FREE apps I'll list below. (Not Sponsered)

Daff Moon- this app can track the cycles of the moon down to the percentage! It also tracks sun rises and sets, planetary alignment, and other astronomical events! When I can't do my research for moon phases in the coming days or weeks, this app is very helpful.

Runic Formulas- This one is SUPER useful to me personally. I don't always have energy to throw my runes, bones, etc. Not only will it give you runes with deep descriptions, associations, and more, but it's SO helpful when it comes to creating your own bindrunes or studying pre-made binds! It also has an in depth course that teaches beginners about Norse Paganism and different Deities!

Learn Old Norse- Not for everyone of course, but I like to try and pray in the original languages of the culture. It will teach you Grammar, Pronunciation, and more!

Low Movement Days:

Sometimes, pain, sickness, and Disabilities make it hard for people to move. And there's no shame in that!

Prayers in "odd" places- one does not always need to kneel before ab altar or raise their hands or even speak to pray. Sometimes it's easier to lay in your bed, couch, wherever you are, and think of your deities and your prayers to them.

PDFs! Sometimes books aren't accessible to all, but often I've been able to find online versions of most texts and books I adore (Somewhere there is a post with book recommendations), but it's very useful for affordability, restricted movement, etc.

Offerings- not all offerings need to be a huge ritual, I promise. Sometimes it's as simple as setting a new item on the altar. Sometimes it's a small prayer when you think of them. Maybe it's going on a small walk for them. I personally work with Fenrir, and will go on walks offering to let him use my eyes and experience freedom from his chains briefly, or I offer my pain, some food as I eat, etc. I've also simply sat on my bed and meditated. Your practice can change day-to-day, and that's okay!

Travel:

Sometimes we are away from our altars. Whether it's a vacation, a hospital stay, or just a time you're gone from home for ages. You're not required to pack up your whole altar or bring a ton of things with you, it can add more stress than good. Sometimes, all I do is sit in front of the altar, speak that I'm leaving for a while, and promise an offering or altar clean when I get back.

Charms! Sometimes is one so desires, you can enchant a devotional piece of jewelry, a veil, or even a water bottle you carry around (I see you, chaos magic users) to carry around as a symbol to your devotion, and sometimes touching or feeling it or saying a prayer on the go is a lovely way to connect. I wear an Obsidian ring for Fenrir and a Coffin Nail necklace for protection. It's very helpful to have as I travel.

Important Travel- our health and well-being need to come first. I view it in the same light as many Islamic and Muslim religions. One can prioritize themselves when in any danger. Deities will not be important in those situations, and they will absolutely understand.

Mental Blocks/Disabilities:

As someone with Autism, it can be hard to know exactly what to do. I struggle with meditation when I get distracted easily and can even forget about my routine and duties I like to do. ADHD and more forms of Neurodivergence, like depression, can make it extra hard on some folks.

Don't be too hard on yourself. - Its very easy to feel like you're not doing a "good job" or failing promises to your Devotion. Beating yourself up over it (as hard as it is not to), can be extremely difficult. I find it helpful to simply apologize if I feel like it. They'll understand

Base your practice to you! Not everyone has the exact same abilities and not everyone can do certain things! You don't need to be perfect or follow everything you see on the internet. Often it's people showing their best and most dramatic presentations. It doesn't need to be perfect all the time.

You don't have to do everything. Some people struggle to meditate, others with focus on tarot readings or pendulum readings. It's okay to completely opt out if those despite them being common!

Accessibility and Affordability:

Not everyone is able to afford fancy crystals, tarot decks, and to set up entire altars. Some people grow up in houses with other religions and can't practice safely. Paganism isn't always accessible to everyone, but here are safer more accessible ways! Here's a couple:

Tarot Deck replacements- playing cards can make a great replacement for a tarot deck. If anyone wants a tutorial, let me know and I'll post one! You can also make/draw your own and make it comfortable to you, and if anything it's easier to connect more. You can hide them easier by saying it's just drawings. They also make Braille tarot cards for my blind folk. :)

Crystals- They aren't a necessity for your work. I often see people talking about their beautiful altars and crystal collections, but it really isnt needed. Not to mention the prices some shops charge! Sometimes connecting with nature is easier. Rivers rocks for water deities is an example. You can also see what crystals can be found in your area and dig them yourself.

Pendulums: It's easy to make your own! Before I could afford all the "fancy" supplies, I used a ring on a necklace or a necklace with a heavy charm to communicate.

Deity Statues: In religious hoseholds that don't accept you, this can be very unsafe, not to mention expensive! I had to pay 80 US dollars for a Hekate piece once. You don't need expensive statues to worship your Deities, you can print out small pictures if them you are drawn to at home. If you don't have access, some libraries offer free or 10ish cent (a US dime) printing. :)

For my closeted folks, celebrating pagan holidays in private can bring joy. Find foods associated with those holidays and eat them! I've attached a basic wheel if the year above. :)

A Farewell:

I think I've touched on many things in this post, but I'll keep updating it as I think of more things! Also feel free to comment if you want me to add anything to said post.

[mochiwrites]

Hello mochimoch my favourite mochicat. A polytechs prompt for you: the three of them going on a long distance date while Mumbo is travelling off server and Iskall is doing on Vault Hunters

ueueueue ty void, my favorite void 🥺

reminder that reblogs do more than likes <3

——————————

“Scar is doing what?!”

Iskall’s laugh comes through Grian’s communicator a bit choppy, too echoey and a bit robotic. The call does little in favor of the laugh, but Grian has heard it so much that the sound is forever ingrained in his ears. He can hear it quite clearly.

“He’s certainly more of a menace than a superhero,” Grian chuckles himself, shaking his head. “I think we’re all living in fear of being snipped from behind.”

“Gosh,” Mumbo sighs with a little amused huff, shaking his head. “I guess we got off server at the right time then.” He’s moving something around on camera, hands just out of frame. His sleeves are rolled up, and Grian can see bits of redstone dust on his shirt and face.

“Come on Mumbo,” Iskall says, “knowing your luck Scar’ll keep this up until you get back.” There’s something teasing in his voice, and it makes Grian smile softly, fond.

“I hate that you’re right,” Mumbo grumbles.

“How’s your Vaulting going, Iskall?” Grian inquires, looking at his camera.

With the way the camera is set up, Grian and Mumbo have a good view of the other’s storage set up. They’ve been rummaging through a bunch of their chests for a good portion of the call, crafting things. There’s some kind of altar set up that he’s been setting items down on.

“Oh, just great! Omega success!” Iskall answers, fiddling around with something in his hands. “Haven’t died once.”

There’s something about their tone that makes Grian and Mumbo share a look through the screen. “You totally did, didn’t you?” Grian questions.

“They definitely did.” Mumbo nods sagely in agreement.

“I— gah! Menaces, the two of you,” Iskall grumbles, making them both laugh. Iskall joins in a second later, and warm laughter echoes in the room of Mumbo’s vault. It almost sounds like they’re here with him.

Yearning burns in Grian’s chest as he looks at his partners, his smile softening at the edges. He’s wearing one of Iskall’s green hoodies over his jumper, and each time he breathes in he gets a soft whiff of spruce. Except the smell is beginning to fade. He watches both of them, and he aches.

“Everything alright over there, Gri?” Mumbo asks, looking at him. His camera is mostly clear, allowing Grian to clearly see the concerned look in his eyes.

“Huh?” Grian looks at him. “I’m fine.”

Iskall looks at him with a small frown. “You look like you’re seconds away from crying,” he pauses, “you’re also wearing my hoodie again, Birdie.”

Grian pauses, realizing very easily that he’s been caught. “I’m fine, really,” he says, because he is. He then hesitates, glancing around Mumbo’s unfinished vault. He sighs, wings drooping behind him slightly.

Mumbo had been the first to go off server, saying he needed to rediscover his spark. Grian could see the break was something he needed, and was the first to encourage him to take said break. Iskall was right behind him, and Grian thought he’d be just fine with Iskall around, that it’d make missing Mumbo easier.

But then Iskall had taken a break as well, and Grian was alone. They have their ways of staying in touch, in keeping each other in the loop and making sure they all know how loved they are. If Grian is being honest though, it isn’t the same as being able to fly to Mumbo or Iskall’s bases and flop into their arms. It isn’t the same as being in the same room as they are and laughing along, leaning against them when he can’t hold himself up.

His flock feels incomplete.

“I miss you both,” he admits, fidgeting with his hands.

“Oh Gri,” Mumbo murmurs, “I miss you too.”

Iskall nods, “It’s weird being able to do redstone without worrying about a pesky bird dropping a potato in there.”

“Hey!” Grian squawks, “I didn’t know it’d do that!”

Warm laughter spills from Iskall as they grin at Grian, “And I’ll never let you live it down.” Their grin softens at the edges as their voice goes a bit softer, “I miss you both very much.”

Just hearing them say that makes his chest swell, and rather than diving any further into his emotions, Grian eyes them both, “I’m going to cover both of your bases in chickens. For a welcome home present.”

Mumbo goes pale and mutters something about leaving Grian unsupervised while Iskall laughs. But the important thing is Grian sees his feathers on both their persons (an earring in Mumbo’s ear, a bracelet around Iskall’s wrist), and he melts.

His flock has parts of him, too.

[ts-witchy-archive]

Hello! I've seen a bit of wiccan (?) things for a while, if I were to start I wouldn't even know how to start though. (my autistic ass does not leave the house and my mom would probably think it's weird to make strange concoctions of things) I also don't really know how deities work and how do you find out which one your communicating with? Tbh I've always felt like someone is around but whatever god it is seriously fucking hates me /hj Been better since I started medication but like the luck I have is 50/50 good bad and that is probably not normal. If you answer this it'd be very helpful.

Hi! Thanks for the ask!

I just want to start by defining a few terms for you :)

Wicca/Wiccan: A pagan religion that focuses on nature, magic and witchcraft. It was founded in the mid 20th century and Wiccans primarily worship 2 Gods which are personifications of nature.

Witch: Just a person who practices witchcraft. It's a non-gendered term and a non-religious term/practice. Not all witches are Wiccan but all Wiccans are witches. Witches can be absolutely anyone

Personally, I'm not Wiccan so I can't really tell you much about that but if there is one thing I know, it's witchcraft! There are many different places to start but I'm going to condense it down as much as humanly possible. It'll probably feel like a bit of information overload so just try to take it slow and relax. Enjoy the learning.

My favourite book for beginner witchcraft is 'Witchery: Embrace the Witch Within' by Juliet Diaz. She is a fantastic author and wonderful human. Everything about the basics of witchcraft you could need is in that book (imo). You should be able to find a pdf online if you can't get a physical copy.

As for youtube channels with solid content:

Harmony Nice: She covers everything Wicca. She has a playlist with all her Wiccan/witchy content witch is linked here

The Witch of Wonderlust: Olivia has been a favourite witchy youtuber of mine for a while. I wouldn't recommend jumping into her videos without any prior knowledge but once you have a grasp on the bare bones it should be okay. Here is a playlist she made with everything you could possibly need when beginning witchcraft. SOrt through the videos and see what peeks your interest.

The Hearth Witch: Another wonderful account if I remember correctly. Her videos used to be on the longer end (30-60mins) so if you have a short attention span then maybe not but she has a wealth of information.

I also recommend joining a few discord servers, following a few pages on tumblr just to get acquainted with the community and terminology.

Okay, on to the deity work situation. Deity work is generally considered more intermediate in the witchcraft community. key words being 'Deity WORK'. Worship is completely fair game. Setting up an altar, praying, leaving offerings, doing activities in devotion to the deity is absolutely something you can do relatively quickly.

As for IDing a deity, most people do it through 'divination' which is things like tarot, a pendulum, dice, bone throwing, and other ways. Most people also ask for signs that a specific deity is 'reaching out' to them or wants them to pay attention. You can also politely ask someone who is volunteering their time on tumblr or a discord server to find out for you via divination. If they don't say their doing free readings, obviously, don't ask.

Finally. luck is luck. It makes no sense for a literal God to hate a human. We all have periods of shitty luck and awesome luck! I wouldn't blame that on anything. Sometimes bad things just happen unfortunately. But sometimes amazing things also happen, even if it's just as small is finding 5 cents on the footpath.

That was so long. Congrats if you made it to the end because I nearly didn't when writing this. I hope this helped a bit. Feel free to reach out if you need a hand with anything. Thanks :)

[blackjackkent]

Well, all of that definitely turned out to be a very odd night for Rakha. And what's the best thing to do with a Bhaalspawn who's had a weird night and is full of confusion and self-loathing?

That's right! Murder scene investigation!

The whole Open Hand Temple Murder Investigation subplot has come at an interesting time, since it's ended up being a microcosm of Rakha's overall internal struggle of Good Deeds Vs Bloodlust. For Wyll and Jaheira, she wants to investigate who killed Lorgan and see them brought to justice, and the refugee scapegoat's name cleared.

But the beast in her head is also deeply excited about seeing where all the blood was spilled to the glory of Bhaal the Murderlord.

The basement, unfortunately, certainly delivers on the blood aspect. There's a long trail of it from the ladder to the kitchens all the way back to what appears to be a small chapel of some sort beneath the main temple.

This, it seems, might have been the murder location, as the blood is most heavily pooled here.

There's also a few documents to contribute to Rakha's increasing understanding of Ilmater doctrine:

(A/N: NGL I kind of like this as a description for depression. "Dulls but does not pang... [a] miring net... dampening all errant thoughts and feelings in its wake." I also like that they're basically describing therapy here. "The weary soul knows itself better than you can."

I'm not entirely sure a devout of Ilmater would be the most comforting therapist in the world, but at least they're trying. XD

Also I'm fairly sure there's a minor bug in this quest. Hector found the tunnels by accident via a side room, but you're supposed to be able to open the main passageway from here by interacting with the Heraldic Signs on both sides of the far wall. I'm fairly sure that they used to pop a perception check when you got near them, but they don't seem to do that anymore, so there's no real obvious way to figure out that they're interactable unless you happen to run your mouse over them by accident. Anyway, for our purposes we'll pretend there was a perception check, because Rakha is observant. XD )

Rakha remembers that both Lorgan's corpse and Brilgor's mentioned something about Lorgan hiding refugees in tunnels down here. This room, in and of itself, is definitely not a tunnel - though she suspects it might have served as a place of worship for those Brilgor was helping - so there must be an entry point to the tunnels in question somewhere nearby.

She examines the bloodsoaked altar. (Flashes of images in her head - blasphemous rituals in Bhaal's name, a victim sprawled on another altar with her dagger in its heart...) Keen of eye and good at extrapolation as always, she realizes that one spatter is set off from the rest, up against the room's back wall, a seemingly blank stretch of stonework.

Her eyes track from the stain up along the wall, looking for loose bricks, any sign of an opening - and light upon the metal plates on the wall, loose from their moorings. Shoving one upwards--

Progress.

The room beyond is much more tunnel-like -- a cavernous passageway smelling of saltwater from a river rolling below, and blood from the progression of stains leading away from the chapel. And further along the path, they hear something unexpected: voices.

Refugees Lorgan hid, Rakha assumes at first, but it only takes a moment to realize that's not the case:

"Keep an eye out, brethren. It must be here somewhere." "We never get the fun jobs, Zomm." "Be patient, child. Soon..."

"Why does Dolor get all the finest weapons?" "You are a weapon, my sweet." "A sharper one than Dolor. He spends too much time with his prey. He's going to get us caught." "Dolor is an artist. You'd do well to think on that."

"Well, what now, sir? We go check his place?" "Perhaps. We'll take one more look here, then move on to the Flophouse."

Low, cruel voices. Voices in search of something. Rakha takes a step forward, just enough to bring her into the light - and is given no choice to decide whether to indulge the beast's automatic urge for murder, because the three men standing among the blood pools attack first.

"Brethren in blood! Kill them!" one of them howls, and something in Rakha's head screeches in answer as she rains down fire on the whole cave.