#of the heavenly variety

[sillygoofyqueer]

I’ve had a silly spin-off idea for crowyuan!

A while back @sunderwight suggested the possibility of Shen Yuan transmigrating as another heavenly demon (as a distant cousin or the like)… well how about Shen Yuan transmigrating as part heavenly crow demon!

I was reading about the Jinwu (golden three legged crows) that are said to be responsible for the sun. These crows were meant to take turns going across the sky, but one myth has them all deciding to go out at once one day, causing the earth to burn until all but one were shot down.

That certainly sounds like the sort of thing that would have someone cast down from the heavens, right? With that you get a bloodline of demonic crows that are in fact heavenly demon crows!

Imagine Shen Yuan transmigrating as some random demon (or half demon) crow that has nothing to do with the PIDW plot, and wondering about the oddity of his bright gold eyes, gold claws, and the golden edges/sheen of his otherwise ash black feathers. He also has a truly insane healing factor and a whole lot of fire and light related powers that were never mentioned as a crow thing. So weird!

This is FASCINATING!! I can't stop thinking about the idea of Shen Yuan just chilling out in the forest and contemplating about what a weird crow he is. He has no idea what he's even transmigrated as for the longest time, thinking that PIDW probably just filled in their own idea of crows because Airplane didn't go out of his way to describe them - far too focused upon the oddest ways to describe papapa to even think about the crows. He also could be surrounded by other demon crows (albeit not heavenly demon crows) so he doesn't question being able to transform into a human or anything - that must just be what demon crows can do in PIDW! Plus, they aren't even mentioned in the plot, meaning that he has no fear of being close to Binghe when he takes a dive into the abyss or even what happens afterwards! He's a demon crow!! He does what he wants with no repercussions from the demon emperor! Or- well, that's what he thinks. (the differences in appearance and abilities from demon crows is completely lost on him, it flies over his head with no sort of catching)

[perfectqueen]

Hibiki Tensho and Alicia Charlotte

Aikatsu Friends! x GraffArt collaboration

[ruvviks]

made the realization my vampire story would work best as a video game and now i can't stop thinking about it

[theamandacollection67]

Singer, actress, television host Dinah Shore Birthday remembrance February 29, 1916~February 24, 1994🎙📺

[barnabasshadows]

[godzexperiment]

His capacity to think an absurd amount+information storage- how it impacts his thinking and conveying things when he's passionately rambling. Or trying to get it out into visual writing etc. But also, the pain literally of it. When he overtaxes all his brain; so he's just noticeably caught up in it all and not quite processing the physical space around him. But not in his usual ways. And because there is no off switch every new little observation or thing to file away just makes it worst, makes his head hurt.

[m1male2]

The largest and deepest sinkhole in the world is Xiaozhai Tiankeng, in Fengjie, China. Its name means something like "well of heaven" or "heavenly."

With its 662 meters deep, 626 meters long and 537 meters wide, it is one of the most impressive natural attractions on Earth.

In addition to a great variety of fauna and flora, it is home to an underground river that measures a total of 8.5 km that ends in a spectacular waterfall. In the rainy season, a waterfall is also generated at the mouth of the sinkhole.

[xntimxteria]

Heavenly Halibut Recipe A delicious weeknight dinner can be made with a quick and simple broiled halibut recipe that features a rich, cheesy topping.

[audisive]

♪ BROOKLYN BABY. (💌) – previous part

౨ৎ simon 'ghost' riley | reader

synopsis: the 141 believes the scot now.

tags: fluff, romance, soft!simon, you're basically their mom atp lol, bickering, there's a bet between gaz n soap, gaz secretly wants you shh, ooc characters, not proofread, price being the gentleman he is, he's seriously just watching everything unfold

       It's not always that Ghost is willing to let the 141 stay at his house for their traditions – which is just drinking beer and watching sports, really. In fact, he's always said something about his place being empty, so they always settled on someone else's. They stop asking after a year, and in turn, he stops having reasons.

It's not until Soap pops the question again when everyone else's houses are unavailable for a variety of reasons, his being that he left his faucet on and now his shitty apartment is flooded. You can only imagine the suspicion and shock when Ghost agrees (or, rather, simply grunts).

The drive is long, nothing short of 5 hours, and Soap spends the better half of it bickering with either Gaz or Ghost. He falls asleep by the next half, and when he awakes, he gawks at the lovely looking house before their car. There's two stories to it, a balcony, a front porch, and there's no doubt that there's a backyard.

Contrary to popular belief, no, it is not all black or plain at all. It's all equally surprising to them. The Brit isn't the type to care about the appearance and state of a house, usually. They do envision him in a mostly empty apartment with only a bed and a bathroom, though.

There's a delicate touch to where a rough man lives; the smell is almost heavenly when they enter the house. It's homely, the scent of newly washed sheets and lingering smell of food; there's a cat perched on the living room table that Ghost scratches the head of lovingly in a way that's so casual and natural. It's like they're at the gates of–

"Simon!" Heaven's bells ring in their ears, luring them into the doorway of the living room, and the sound of feet padding against the cold floor. There comes a soft-looking thing running into Ghost's arms, completely engulfing you.

You only notice the three familiar faces of your boyfriend's team members – though you know he considers them family if anything – when you pull away. An angel clad in only a cami top, shorts, and Simon's hand around your waist, you turn to look at the group with a surprised look on your pretty – Soap thinks that God, you're so pretty – face. "Oh, hi," you smile sweetly, obviously awkward at the silence and the staring.

"It's been a while," Ever the gentleman, the gruff voice is the first to speak up with your name uttered, the only who's actually met you – John Price. Soap is too enamored with the way you hold yourself and the fact that, holy fuck, even your name's pretty. Gaz raises a brow at the captain's greeting.

You smile once more – a genuine one now. "Nice to see you again, John."

"'S rude to stare, Johnny." Simon speaks out, a smirk under the mask. "Please excuse him, miss," Gaz adds, this beautiful man, and offers a charming smile.

"You must be Gaz," you hold your hand out, "it's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Pleasure's all mine," Kyle forgets that a hand could be this soft and gentle, "and please, call me Kyle." He barely stops himself from turning your hand in his to kiss the back of it like one should to a lady so fair; his lieutenant has good taste in women, he'll give him that. And when you're out of the area, Soap is sure to rub it in Gaz's face. I told ye so! LT wis hidin' somethin' from us. A pretty something, that is. You don't miss the way he slips a twenty-dollar bill into the Scottish man's hand.

"Glad tae meet ye," Soap finally says, winking. "Understand why he wis hidin' a bonnie lass like ye from us." There's a mischievous glint in his eye, almost naturally so.

"A'm hurt, LT, but whit can I do? After all, we're just a couple o' brutes, arenae we?"

Simon watches in amusement, "you'll live." Soap is quick to move to your side as you lead the small group of hulking men through your shared home after that.

Simon is visibly more relaxed with you around. He's comfortable, that much is a given, with the way he's taking up most of the thankfully large couch with his manspreading. So is the 141. They're pampered like spoiled children (or pets, really) through the whole day.

Instead of just beer and faucet water, they're offered a variety of drinks in the kitchen that's enough to be considered a private bar. Instead of an empty belly unhealthily stuffed with beer and a mix of mediocre takeout, they're met with warm homecooked meals. They lose track of time quickly; the night falls by the time they've tired themselves out, and they've had not one, but two meals thanks to you.

(They're sure to commend your cooking skills and think of how lucky this tall brute of a man is blessed with a woman so soft and pliant and wonderful and– while Price is the one to be the most grateful, Soap compliments you the most. "A can practically taste the love." You laugh in turn.)

Gaz is the first to speak after a meal so lovely, they could simply just sleep on the floor comfortably and wake to the same smell of home. "It's a bit late, love, we should probably go."

"Thank you for having us," Price smiles down at you kindly.

"Ye've been lovely, bonnie." He wants to stay some more.

"Wait," you stop them, looking up at Simon for further approval. He's already looking at you with a reassuring brush of his thumb on the side of your hip and a nod. You turn your eyes back at them. "It's already late, you three should stay the night. We have enough room for everyone."

There comes, "we don't wanna intrude," then, "we can take care of ourselves, it's alright."

"Please, I insist." Your smile brightens, "I'll even cook breakfast before you leave."

The mohawk moves with a sigh, "now tha's just no' fair, lass. How are we gonna say no tae that?" You giggle. Only then do they find themselves tucked away in the guest room, and boy, you were right when you said it could fit them all if not more.

On the way to the bathroom in the late hours of the night, Soap catches a glimpse of light through the crack of your bedroom door to see his oh-so strong lieutenant, vulnerable in your arms. There's something natural about the way you cradle the large man and kiss his hair like it's part of your DNA, like you're programmed to do that 'cause Soap thinks you're simply unreal.

He's proud of his lieutenant, this lucky bastard. He turns another blind eye once more, but he's paid in full with another fulfilling meal by the morning.

[lordprettyflackotara]

video games || ben drowned

Ben bit his bottom lip, trying his hardest to concentrate. Usually Ben was a god at video games, the flashing colors and tiniest noises unfazing him. He was playing Valorant, his finger eagerly hovering over the mouse. His teammates were dying left and right, forcing Ben to take charge and carry the game. Usually this would’ve been a piece of cake, the blonde preferring to work solo anyways. However that ability to carry on like normal was obstructed, by your pretty lips wrapped around his cock.

Ben should’ve known better. He should’ve known your offer to suck him off while playing was too good to be true. But now you had him trapped, forcing him to pay attention and play or you’d threaten to stop. You’d edged him for what felt like hours, his cheeks rosy red and cock aching for release. He glanced down at you, your big doe eyes meeting his desperate ones. “Cmon I needa cum,” Ben begged, his eyes full of a plea. You released his throbbing cock with a pop, smiling up at him mischievously. “What’s wrong Benny? Can’t handle a taste of your own medicine?” You mocked. It was true, a week prior he had your legs tied to his foot board, your body spread out like a starfish as he edged you for hours. Then just once you thought he was done he had overstimulated you into oblivion, leaving you unable to walk for days. You thought this pay back was pretty tame, the blonde lustful enough to take the bait. You licked up the side of his shaft, causing him to whimper. Considering Ben used a variety of vibrators and toys to make you squirm, you thought using your tongue was decent enough.

“Cmon babe quit the games, just let me cum already,” Ben panted. You continued to look up at him as he tried to focus on the round, killing off the other teams Sage. You bobbed your head up and down on his cock, forcing your jaw to go slack as you took him to the base. You allowed yourself to gag, knowing the sound would only bring him closer to the edge. You used one hand to jack off what you couldn’t suck, while the other fondled his balls just for a little extra stimulation. Ben whined as his tip hit the back of your throat, the sound of you gagging heavenly. He cringed as he got shot and killed, his headset long discarded so he could hear your sinful acts. As the loading screen ensued his hand flew to your hair, rolling his lip in between his teeth. “Fuck, that’s it, please don’t stop, oh my fuck-” He moaned, tilting his head back in his gaming chair. His eyes screwed shut, his hand attempting to make you suck his cock faster. Ben could feel his cock twitch, his orgasm so close.

That was until you abruptly pulled away. Moans and whines left Ben’s lips, his eyes meeting your devious ones. In a swift motion he reached down and grabbed you by your shirt collar, dragging you to your feet. “You really wanna play games? Let’s play my favorite,” Ben growled. He tossed you onto his bed, dragging you to position yourself on all fours, “Bend over bitch, it’s my turn now.”

[aphrogeneia]

Altars in Ancient Greece

A disclaimer before we get into it: this is a brief explanation of how altars functioned in ancient Greece. I am not telling you how you should set up your own personal altar(s). Rather, I hope this can serve as foundational knowledge for you to consider while figuring out what works best for you and your practice.

Pentelic marble altar from the ancient agora of Athens. Dedicated by the Athenian Boule to Aphrodite and the Graces. c. 194-193 BCE.

The purpose of the altar is to receive offerings for the deity. It is the sacred place where worshipers pour their libations of wine, deposit their gifts of fruit, honey, or cakes, and burn a portion of the sacrificial animal. Offerings in ancient Greece were a key component of religious life; it is how mortals express their honor and build χάρις (kharis, favor). The altar is a highly important point of contact with the divine, and is an essential physical element for any cult to be established.

In fact, we can determine whether or not a deity was worshiped in ancient Greece based on if there were any altars dedicated to them. A god or daimon with no altars was very likely only part of the mythological or literary tradition and did not receive any sacrifices or worship. Altars were generally dedicated to one god or a group of related deities. In rarer cases, they may be dedicated to the whole pantheon (example: the Altar of the Twelve Gods in the Athenian Agora).

An altar for a heavenly (ouranic) god would be a raised surface or pedestal, and it would be oriented towards the East. The typical Greek altar consisted of bricks which were white-washed with lime, or it was carved from stone such as marble or limestone. They could be plain, or they could be decorated with volutes and narrative scenes. They often had the name of the deity inscribed into them. Altars could also come in a variety of shapes, the only real requirement being that the surface on top was flat so it could hold the offerings.

More prominent cult sanctuaries may feature a large, elevated altar with steps leading up to it. There were also natural rock altars, or in very rustic sanctuaries, a collection of stones was grouped to form an altar. If one was worshiping a khthonic god who dwells on or within the earth, they would provide sacrifices at a low-lying altar such as an eschara, or a simple open pit called a bothros.

Indoor altars were very uncommon. At sanctuaries, the altar would be outside of the gods temple, often in front of the entrance. Though a sanctuary could contain several altars and sacrificial sites. Households would have had one in their courtyard for private worship. Other altars were located outside of public buildings or in community gathering places like an agora.

The reason for being outdoors was so that the gods who reside in the sky could observe the sacrifices being made and enjoy the rising smoke of the incense. Meanwhile, a libation poured directly onto the bare earth would seep down below to the khthonic gods. Every altar was ceremonially sanctified when its first sacrifice was performed; from then on, it was considered part of the property of the deity.

Below are my sources. I'll likely make a part two of this post where I go over some ideas for how we can construct our modern altars. Thank you for reading!

Ancient Greek Religion, Jon D. Mikalson

Greek Religion, Walter Burkert

Ancient Greek Cults, Jennifer Larson

[sillygoofyqueer]

How about Bing-ge’s reaction if he ran into a heavenly demon crowyuan in his universe?

Oooooooohh, okay okay okay! So, obviously, the original crowyuan au was Bing-ge and normal crow demon Shen Yuan - thinking about this if SHEN YUAN WAS A HEAVENLY DEMON!! In PIDW, Luo Bing-ge is famously the Last Of His Kind™ because Tianlang-Jun is stuck under a mountain and nobody fucking knows what happened to Zhuzhi-Lang (still in his cave...). He hears news about a new sort of heavenly demon - a crow - and immediately has to check it out; this is a heavenly demon!! He thought he was the last one! This is the greatest threat he could have against him with his position in life. He doesn't know not to fuck with corvids as a heavenly demon. The first thing he learns on his travels is that the corvids flapping around just don't give a shit about him. They shit where they like and cackle when he tries to strike them down for their slight against him - but, no matter, he will rule them all once he either eliminates this threat or places SY as his subordinate (similar to Mobei-Jun treatment). Then he finds Shen Yuan. At first, it seems as though he's fighting with other crow demons - ah, not afraid to fight for his control, Bing-ge has to commend the demon for. Wait a damn second. SY is absolutely CACKLING, being piled on by a group of fledglings that are all giggling and screaming with delight whenever he picks one of them up and lightly tosses them to the side. He's helping them learn how to fly with no preparation. HOLD ON THIS GUY IS A THREAT BECAUSE THE CORVIDS (demon or otherwise) SEEM TO LOVE HIM.

[skydiamonded]

A very happy heavenly birthday to Brian Epstein, who would have turned 90 today! Best known for his management of The Beatles, Brian had such a wide variety of passions that he put his heart and soul into, and I truly believe that’s what he’d want to be remembered for today 🤍🎂

[jarofstyles]

Sea View

Hello my lovely babies. Here is a sugar baby!H one shot. 

I hope you enjoy them. 

Check out our Patreon for early access and 100+ exclusive writings!

WC- 3.7k

Warnings- public sex/exhibitionism, unprotected sex, slight degrading but also praise kink, soft!dom H

---

The Italian sun was turning his skin golden. He knew that it was definitely time for a sunscreen application again, but the beams of warmth felt too damn good on his body to be assed to get up.

Besides- he had Y/N’s leg hitched over his as she napped in the familiar sunbeams he was soaking in.

After a particularly stressful week, Y/N had had enough. She chartered a yacht, called her assistant to defer her calls and woke Harry up from his meditation nap to pack his bags. They were on the private plane before he even properly woke up, but he couldn’t complain.

The water was impossibly blue, the weather was perfect and their boat was heavenly. He’d never been on a vacation quite like this. He’s actually been to Italy for a bit when he did an exchange program, but he hadn’t been able to just relax. He’d spent his time exploring and studying when he was here, picking up the language, learning the people, his surroundings. There wasn’t time to just… be

A week back in Italy with the best food, a private boat and villa and the most beautiful woman he had ever met, all expenses paid? He would be a fool to turn that down. All he needed to do was help her unwind. That meant hiding her work phone from her, massaging her shoulders, letting her sleep on him like she was now, and giving her every bit of affection and sex that she could possibly want.

‘You work so hard, darling. Deserve a break. I’ll take care of you.’ Was what he had told her when they boarded the boat, kissing her lips as he felt her hands grip his shorts. They had been particularly slutty this trip, something he really liked. His new brand of shorts were cut closer on the thigh, in a variety of colors. Y/N had appreciated them greatly.

It was after the first round of sex that day that Y/N requested they spend some time up on the deck. The warmth was welcome to her, he could tell. It was his job to relax her, to keep her sane, and he liked to think he did a pretty good job of it- both with his words and his cock. This time, though, he could tell she had been particularly drained from work and he made it his mission to keep her as relaxed as possible. Their drinks sat on the ledge behind them, condensation sweating the glasses. Y/N’s book was abandoned with a bookmark haphazardly placed in it, her cheek pressed against his bicep.

The concept of a midday nap for her was unheard of. Harry had been with her for a while now, and in his time knowing her he had never experienced it. That’s how he knew she was really exhausted. Fingers stroked the hair from her face with his opposite hand, simply observing her as she slept. A soft vulnerability was painted on her features as her guard was completely down. In her sleep, Harry could see just how sweet she could look. In everyday life, she was a very powerful and merciless businesswoman. She was wealthy beyond his comprehension and she had gotten to that point because she took no prisoners. She had to, in order to get what she wanted. He’d seen firsthand her cold demeanor and her stoic, practiced words when she was at work and they’d be interrupted.

No one besides Harry had ever seen the woman beg for anything. No one had seen tears drip down her face when she was overstimulated, no one had seen how mushy she got after an entire night of hot sex where he took care of her. Despite the fact that they switched around who was in charge and he very much loved being a good boy for her, Harry liked seeing her soften up for him. Being exposed to a side of one of the country’s most powerful people that no one else had gotten the chance to see? It made him feel powerful all in himself.

When their arrangement had started, she had taken the reigns for the most part. She’d needed to get comfortable with him, which had taken some time. The first night he had taken over control had been a bit of a power struggle, but she took to it well after getting a real taste of what Harry could do.

Being able to comfort her, even in moments like this, made him smile.

“I can feel you staring.” Y/N voice slurred against the skin of his arm, rubbing her nose against it as she shifted to tuck her face into his neck. “Rude.”

Harry’s heart warmed with the rays of the sun, turning slightly so he was facing her before gathering up her sleepy form in his arms. “How could I not stare? When the lioness is asleep, it’s the best time to observe the beauty.” Lips pressed against her warm forehead, letting her leg tighten around his waist. Looking down, he could see some of the bruises he had left on her silky skin. Fingerprints on her thighs, a few on her hips. A sense of satisfaction went through him as he felt her lips give a chaste peck to his throat, exhaling heavily. He had done this. He got to experience this woman fully.

“Lioness? I’d say Tigress, if anything.” Her sleepy laugh made him smile. “How long was I out?” Stretching her body out, she shook for a second before curling back up against his side. It did things to his heart that he didn’t want to talk about.

“An hour.” His fingers returned to her waist, rhythmically dragging up and down the curve of it. “Passed right out. You’re exhausted, love.” It was a bit concerning. Y/N handled pressure very well, stress even better since Harry had entered her life- but he could see some cracks forming before they’d left. “M’glad you took us here. You needed a break. I worry about you.” He spoke against her hair, knowing she didn’t like it when he worried.

“I’m okay.” Her voice was soft. “I… I remembered what you’d said about feeling a breaking point coming and doing something about it before you reach it. I was there.” Opening up wasn’t easy for her in the slightest, but Harry had been her confidant for a bit now. He never judged her, always stressed the importance of mental health along with her physical. “I just wanted to go somewhere we could just relax. It’s still hard for me.”

That much, Harry knew all too fucking well. Y/N was always wound up tight. She was coiled like a snake for most of her day. Being a woman in her position, unfortunately she had to be. She had to work twice as hard and be twice as defensive because men were awful and believed they deserved her position, her success more simply because they were men. It was sick and wrong but Harry understood why she had to feel on the guard all the time.

“I know it is.” The reply was soft. “But m’teaching you, aren’t I?” He was a very relaxed person now that he didn’t have to work at the bar. He was able to work on his music, do his yoga, bake his treats, and focus on this fucking gorgeous woman’s pleasure. For some, it wouldn’t be fulfilling. For Harry? It was a dream come true. He loved teaching her how to relax.

“You’re doing a good job.” Y/N chuckled, pulling her face from the refuge of his neck. “Got a pretty boy with equally as pretty words to help me with that.” Her own fingers came up to stroke the facial hair sprouting on his face. She was a very big fan of it, he was finding out. He hadn’t shaved in a few days and she seemed mesmerized.

“Just pretty?” He smiled, feeling her finger pop into his dimple. “I’d prefer… beautiful. Gorgeous. Ruggedly handsome, even. Sexy is acceptable too.” The quips were met with a laugh from the woman, face tilting up and catching his lips.

Harry was pleasantly surprised. Y/N was shy with her kissing at times. It wasn’t that she didn’t like it- she reacted with her whole body when he kissed her- but she didn’t initiate it too much. The opportunity was not going to be wasted. His mouth responded immediately, a happy hum leaving his throat. Fingers gripped her thigh and pulled her tighter against him as she shyly brushed his tongue against hers. Impressive. She was making a lot of the first moves, and he was ecstatic about it.

She tasted like orange juice, the mimosa’s from breakfast back on her tongue. Harry was taking in every bit of it, one hand curled around the back of her neck while the other kept her thigh against his hip, languid greed encompassing the kiss as he took a bit of the control away from her. There was that buzzing in his stomach, cock thickened as her body heat outshined the sun. In the middle of the boat, he didn’t have a care in the world other than keeping her satisfied.

“Mmm.. S’sweet.” He mumbled against her lips, going back in for more. “Open that pretty mouth f’me. Don’t be shy. I want everything from you.” He was going to milk this for everything he could. Her fingers slid into his hair, the manicured nails gently grazing his scalp and making him groan loudly. Chills flushed on his skin as he pulled her closer, cock pulsing in the shorts as he felt her arch into him. She knew what that did to him, the minx.

His tongue found hers before he sucked on it lightly, fingers diggling into her thigh as he pulled back just a bit. He felt her fingers tug on his hair again, trying to pull his mouth back to her own. It was refreshing to feel her need for him. “You’re starting something, darling.” He warned slowly. “M’not going to stop it if you continue.”

“Don’t.” Was her reply, pushing herself further against him. “We can do anything.”

Harry was surprised by her response. They definitely weren’t fully alone, but no one would come out on to the deck if they weren’t requested. Y/N had asked for privacy beforehand. The crew of the large boat stayed below deck… And honestly? Harry didn’t give a fuck if someone from another boat saw them. He was going to take this opportunity to pleasure his woman.

Rolling them over, he heard her squeak as he hovered on top of her. Eyes opened, the lusty haze making her grin as his body was backlit from the sun. He looked like her own personal angel. Swollen pink mouth and scruffy face, he was sent directly from wherever wet dreams originated from to be the one that took care of her.

“Filthy girl.” He whispered. “S’that what you want? Do you want me to do whatever I want to you?” He leaned his nose against her nose, brushing the skin as she nodded.

“Yes.” The word was breathy, unlike her normal cadence.

Harry grinned that filthy grin that made Y/N’s cunt clench around nothing, the promise of more in his eyes making her blink up at him. She had worked so hard, kept it together so well.. All she wanted to do was fall apart under him. Be dirty, take a risk for once in her controlled life. They’d fucked around many places, but she could see other boats not too far away. She knew it was risky.

“Oh, sweet fucking girl. You’ll let me tug this top off?” He questioned, tugging the cups of her bathing suit down slowly to give her a chance to say no. She didn’t. He pulled the fabric over her pebbled nipples, grunting in his throat as he took a look at her beautiful tits on display for him. “Hm.. Beautiful girl. That’s what you are.” Dipping down her body, he showed no hesitation taking one of her nipples into his mouth.

Sucking on the bud, he heard her gasp and fingers grip his hair as he methodically pulled the sensitive nipple into his mouth, brushing his tongue against it. So warm, her skin smelled like her body wash and salt from the ocean as he lathed his tongue over it again. Teeth brushed it ever so slightly as he pulled back, eliciting a gasp from her before he switched breasts with a satisfied groan.

Yes. This is what his girl needed. His sweet, overworked, filthy minded girl. His cock was dripping into his shorts, the risk of the situation and her need for him arousing him more than he had been in a long time.

“More.” She whimpered. The one word was enough to get him to pause, looking at her with his blown out eyes. Mournfully releasing her nipple again, his wet lips opened to speak to her.

“More? Are you asking for me to fuck you, pretty baby?” His low tone made her clit throb, nodding frantically as she felt him press his fingers against her covered cunt. The bathing suit did little to hide her arousal. He could feel her heat, feel the slickness of her, and he knew he needed to take her. Now. “Yeah? Y’want me to tug this to the side and slip right in?” He spoke against her lips, pressing a kiss there before moving to her jaw. “Want my cock tucked up inside you, nice n’snug?”

Fingers tugged the fabric to the side, leaving her slick cunt exposed to the ocean air. To him. She shuddered under him as she peeled her eyes open, watching in anticipation as his hand went for his shorts between them. Slipping them down just enough to expose himself, he grit his teeth. “Hm?” His voice prodded her. He was covering her body, sure, but it would be obvious what they’d be doing.

Her body jolted when he tapped the ruddy tip of his leaking cock against her cunt, nestling it between her slit while he got himself wet.

“Yes.” She had been reduced to a beg. Y/N was usually much more talkative, much more of a tease, but she couldn’t be right now. This was exactly what the woman wanted. She wanted Harry to take over and make her forget all of her troubles. “Please. Just do it.”

Harry didn’t need much convincing.

She was still a bit sensitive from their sex when they’d woken up, a broken whimper leaving her throat as she felt the tip press into her. It was embarrassing how wet she was just from this. The man had made it near impossible to not be affected by his presence and she was too tired to pretend she wasn’t.

Harry’s cock was thick and long and the perfect size to fuck her dumb. To make her mind shut up about anything other than how good it felt. After long days in the office, it’s exactly what she’s needed. It was no different now, eyes falling shut as her head rolled back, legs closifn around his hips to urge him deeper. There was no need to fake that she wasn’t greedy.

“Fuck.” Harry grunted, feeling himself bury into her. “You needed it again. My poor girl. Needed me to take care of you.” He pressed his mouth against hers again before slowly moving, grinding inside of her as her fingers tugged the hair at the nape of his neck. It was a tight, wet paradise being locked inside of her. Shallow thrusts, feeling her clench up around him, he slipped a hand under her head to hold the back of her neck.

“Needed me so bad that you’re taking my cock right in front of everyone. What a filthy, nasty girl you are. So desperate for my prick to be buried in that sweet little pussy all over again that… you don’t even care if you’re caught.” He was working her up. Dirty talk got to her. Stimulated her in a way that he knew she wouldn’t admit to loving when she wasn’t hanging off his cock, but when she was?

She ate it up. Every crumb.

Legs stayed tight around him as he moved slowly, so fucking deep that she could cry. This was what she needed. Harry was right. She was desperate and dirty and she didn’t care if people were even right next to them, she had wanted him to be inside of her more than anything. This was her escape.

“No, my dirty girl just wants to soak me again. You want people to see how wet you get around me? How filthy and sticky you leave my cock every time I pull out? It goes right down to my thighs, you know.” His velvety voice was wrapped around her head. “You’re not happy unless m’balls deep inside of you. Greedy thing.” He crooned, feeling a bit more of her slick coating his cock. Fuck, he was obsessed. “ But this is a newer development. You’ve always like the idea of someone seeing but… they definitely can right now.”

It got to him, too. His dick was swallowed in her sweet relief, but he knew he wouldn’t last too long. Despite the slow thrusts, they were deep and a bit rough, moving her slightly when he bottomed out. Each thrust was rewarded with a squeak, a moan, a whimper. He was addicted to hear what noise he got next.

“They can see it, baby. If they turn their heads, if they look over, they can see you being fucked. Clinging to me, keeping me close. There’s no way they will be able to mistake it.” Despite the fact he eas covering her and his shorts weren’t fully down, the movements made it obvious. Harry’s always been into adventurous sex, always been into exhibitionism, but it was different here. It sent a heady zing right to his cock. Being a show off, an attention whore, he was in his prime.

“Harry…” she whispered, head tilting back as he bit down on the lobe of her ear. “I can’t. M’gonna cum if you t-talk like that.” She was going to regardless. The sweet press into her spot, his spot really, was perfect. There had been worry that maybe he wouldn’t be able to get her off at the beginning of when they met- no man had properly done it before- but he had exceeded all expectations. He was hers. She was keeping this man as long as she possibly could. He was perfection. Indulging in her like this was just one of the many reasons.

“You’d cum if I was silent. Your cunt loves my cock. Doesn’t she? Loves to be fucked in any way. On your knees, your stomach, riding me… but especially when people can see it.” He licked over her neck, the filth of it making her nails dig into the back of his neck. The stab of pain made him moan, moving a bit harder. It wasn’t fast, wasn’t hurried in the slightest. It was lazy and hot and so goddamn good.

“Yes. I love it. I-I want them to see.” She admitted in a slightly slurred voice, the pleasure already building up with his thrusts. Like sparks over her body. “Want them to watch. I’m gonna-“ she couldn’t finish the word, one of the thrusts stealing her breath.

“I know you want that, my filthy slut. Such a little whore for me.” He laughed, breathy and hot as he covered her lips back with his own. He was about to cum. He could feel her begin to quiver around him. “Going to soak my cock and let them see? So fucking dirty. Letting me fuck you out on this deck, not a care about anything other than getting filled. S’gonna make me cum too.” He looked at her with hazy eyes. The sweat on her forehead, the stickiness of their skin under the hot Italian sun.

All of this was erotic.

“Let go for me, angel.” He decided to pull out the language he knew she loved, nestled against her lips. “Voglio sentirti Bella ragazza. sempre così perfetto. Lascia che mi prenda cura di te, sempre.”

Y/N couldn’t stop it. The rasp of his voice, the Italian falling off his tongue, she came with an intensity she didn’t expect. Mouth falling open as he stole her breath, she finally expelled a moan as she came all over him. Slicked up, creamy and hot, she pulled him in and tried to push him away as the orgasm was worked through.

Harry wasn’t far behind, gritting his teeth as he cursed. His balls tight, he released the heavy load into her cunt, stuttered movement of his hips making him grunt with each finishing stroke. He painted her walls white, pushing it in deep as he groaned against her mouth. Breathing each other in, the movement stopped.

Y/N was full in every sense of the word, legs loosening but staying wrapped around him as her body loosened all its limbs. It was exactly the thing she had needed.

“You okay?” He asked softly, nudging his nose back against hers before pressing chaste kisses to the corners of her lips and the heated cheeks. “Did so good. Fucking perfect, as usual.” His praises made her lips quirk in a smile, returning a chaste peck before falling back to her blissed out features.

“Mhm. Perfect, actually.” Her response was a giggle, the relaxation back on her face. “But I’d like you to stay inside me for a bit.”

Harry rose a brow, trying to keep his softening erection at bay. “Will you behave? I need the nap now.” He needed a bit of time before going again- though keeping himself warm on her cock was a very nice addition to the day.

“Probably not. But I’ll let you sleep for a bit on my chest before I bother you for some more.” She replied, carding her fingers through his slightly sweat damp hair. His forehead fell against her shoulder, shaking in a laugh as he kissed the skin.

“Anything for you.”

[sporesgalaxy]

LET ME TELL YOU THE SETUP FOR MY BEAUTIFUL COOKIE CLICKER LOVE STORY

it's not everything but it's a decent introduction to the characters. I've been writing this summary for weeks. I'm hoping that feeling like I can reference parts in the middle will give me more ideas......

why does it hate my images...ok fine no images. god

•••

0 Ascensions:

Cookie is always on the lookout for new ways to bake ungodly amounts of cookies, so she approaches Kirschtorte after reading about the doctor's experimental portal research having once resulted in the retreival of a small amount of alien matter.

The first time Michelle Kirschtorte meets Cookie Cliquer, she does not touch a single morsel of the extravagant cookie spread that Ms. Cliquer made to butter her up. The same thing happens the second, fourth, fifth time they meet and discuss business, no matter what variety of cookies Cookie makes. At last Cookie subjects herself to the mortifying ordeal of directly asking Dr. Kirschtorte what kind of cookies she likes-- only to be shocked and horrified when the doctor says that she does not eat any cookies whatsoever.

Despite her inexplicable distaste for cookies, Michelle Kirschtorte is receptive to Cookie's business offer, but she remains unmoved by Cookie's sickly-sweet commercial persona. Secretly at first, Kirschtorte is deeply cynical about the whole arrangement; she was screwed over by her previous colleagues, and progress on her portal research has been stagnating for some time now because of it. Although she doesn't admit it to Cookie at first, the doctor feels humiliated by the prospect of turning to a baked goods corporation for funding. Michelle ends up accepting the deal under the impression that she is taking advantage of Cookie's deep pockets and naive enthusiasm for unorthodox theoretical baking techniques.

When the cookie-focused research initiatives start yeilding mind-bogglingly impressive results, Kirschtorte reassesses her portal research priorities and her impressions of her oddball benefactor. Cookies are, for some reason, the key to understanding and exploiting the greatest secrets of the universe. Even more impressively, Ms. Cliquer seems intuitively in touch with the logic behind these shocking cookie truths. What other great scientific discoveries could cookie research yeild? How does Cliquer think of this stuff? Why DOES everyone like cookies so damn much? Kirschtorte finds herself irresistably drawn in by these exciting scientific possibilities, as well as the much less sweet and more insatiably driven person she starts getting to know behind Cookie's crowd-pleasing public persona.

Despite a stilted start to their relationship, Cookie and Michelle get along very well once they find even footing. Both are driven to prove themselves through their work, both have been underestimated and cast aside by peers and superiors in the past. Cookie's obsessive drive to make and market infinite perfect cookies matches Michelle's obsessive drive to understand everything there is to know about the nature of the universe; both are deeply passionate about their work and typically striving tirelessly towards the same goal. Both believe that their ends justify their means, and that ethical concerns are a waste of time and a thorn in the side of progress.

Cookie has a knack for PR that Michelle has always lacked the patience for; Michelle understands and appreciates the true, transcendent importance of cookies nearly as much as Cookie does-- Cookie's business partners usually don't care about that part.

Cookie eventually achieves enlightenment and realizes the Secret of the Heavenly Chips, granting her the ability to Ascend. Cookie should be overjoyed at the cosmic knowledge within her grasp; great new possibilities in cookie production await her!

Yet Cookie drags her feet. She keeps finding excuses to stay where she is, keeps setting goals even as her progress slows to a crawl, and reaching those goals in this lifetime seems less and less feasible...

Still, the stress of failure and stagnation chips away at Cookie's resolve to keep dragging out her first iteration. The knowledge of how much she could be doing with the power Ascension would grant her makes Cookie increasingly irritable and bitter about the work which she's made her entire life revolve around.

Kirschtorte is stressed and angry about the slowed progress, too. She is increasingly afraid that age and death will catch up with herself and Cookie before they can discover everything there is to know about reality (and cookies). Michelle is vexed by Cookie's comparative lack of urgency-- or is it a lack of hope for any solution? Cookie has always been the most driven person Michelle's known, yet now Cookie's detatchedness toes the line of seeming resigned to failure. Michelle feels like everything she thought she understood about Cookie is slipping through her fingers, and she feels powerless against the onward march of time (DESPITE having access to time machines!), and she doesn't know how to cope.

The temptation of exponentially greater cookie production and the crushing agony of stagnation eventually outweigh Cookie's sentimental attachment to this particular iteration of her life. Cookie Ascends.

(Michelle lives the rest of her life feeling emptier in Cookie's absence, and never knowing why Cookie vanished.)

1st iteration to reach the Grandmapocalypse:

The first time Michelle Kirschtorte meets Cookie Cliquer, she is offered a slice of Black Forest Cake, her favorite. Somewhat suspicious of the COOKIE Magnate offering her cake, Michelle still can't bring herself to resist. Cookie is clearly delighted.

Kirschtorte doesn't take Cookie seriously at first and Cookie knows it, and finds it funny. Kirschtorte has to be convinced of the omnipresence and significance of cookies thru material evidence. Cookie is more hands-on helping speed along her research, but only ever reveals information in bite-sized pieces on a need-to-know basis. It becomes increasingly clear to Kirschtorte that Cookie somehow knows a lot about the most far-fetched characteristics of cookies before they're scientifically proven...and that Cookie has a suspiciously good intuition for knowing things about Kirschtorte herself.

Cookie is delighted by her extra power and knowledge at first. She's entertained by using her extra experience to tease Kirschtorte. Cookie enjoys getting to spend more time with Michelle, despite how one-sided the relationship is early on. Michelle is drawn to Cookie even more from the get-go, because of her strange intuitive understanding of Michelle herself, as well as Cookie Theory.

During the first Grandmapocalypse, Cookie is overwhelmed and focuses on trying to feel in control rather than seeking help from Kirschtorte. When Dr. Kirschtorte approaches Cookie about it, Michelle is surprised by how stubbornly Cookie refuses to bend even slightly to the wishes of the Grandmatriarchs, no matter how logical and cost-effective that would be. Not fully understood by to Kirschtorte, this is motivated mostly by Cookie's resentment for her own grandmother (who is now a parf of the Grandma collective, of course). Cookie insists that any compliance or appeasement would only lead to Cookie and her company being trapped under the Grandmatriarchs' elderly thumb forever.

Instead, Cookie is dead set on overcoming the Grandmatriarchs' sabotage by outpacing them through brute force. Michelle sees this as a fight she is doomed to lose, but Cookie refuses to consider any alternatives.

Cookie's seemingly pointless uphill battle convinces Michelle that cooperating with the Grandmatriarchs is the only way to keep cookie production and research moving forward at a viable pace (she is objectively correct about this). Michelle wants to trust Cookie's leadership, but the two of them are getting older (this is especially visible on Michelle, who is effected by constant proximity to Cookieverse Portals), and Michelle is beginning to fear they might die before they uncover and exploit all the cookie-based secrets of the universe. After all the work they've done, the thought of not being able to see it through upsets Kirschtorte terribly. The Grandmatriarchs subconsciously whisper things to Michelle which exacerbate these fears-- something Michelle is susceptible to due to her proximity to the Cookieverse Portals.

Eventually, Kirschtorte caves. Against Cookie's wishes-- but in Kirschtorte's mind, for Cookie's sake as well as her own-- Kirschtorte convenes with the Grandmatriarchs anyways by using the Cookieverse Portals. She asks them for knowledge of how to lessen the Grandmatriarchs' wrath, and she asks for them to help her understand the true nature of the universe. In exchange, the Grandmatriarchs' ask Michelle to bond her mind with them just a little (still retaining most of her individuality), and vow that she will continue to proliferate portals to the cookieverse as long as she lives. That seems like an easy promise to Michelle, and it makes sense that they would want this. She already makes portals to the cookieverse all the time, so no big deal. Cookie was probably being stubborn and mistrusting for nothing!

Michelle performs the Elder Pledge ("a simple ritual involving anti-aging cream, cookie batter mixed in the moonlight, and a live chicken"), and the Grandmapocalypse is halted. The Wrinklers and Flesh Highways withdraw and cookie production returns to normal, with the Research Facility's grandma augmentation benefits still at work.

Cookie isn't sure what to make of the sudden withdraw of the Grandmatriarchs, but she has a bad feeling.

The way Michelle's deal works is that Kirschtorte will die normally someday, but then the Grandmatriarchs will carry her consciousness and memories to another iteration of Kirschtorte who asks for the same deal, and their knowledge will be combined into 1 continuous consciousness. This will repeat over and over, with more knowledge added to the collective each time, and each new Kirschtorte never knowing about her past selves or the secrets they've uncovered before she complies with the Grandmatriarchs.

Kirschtorte asks the Grandmatriarchs if they can do the same for Cookie, and is shocked to learn that Cookie was never going to run out of time, and never told her. Was Cookie willing to waste the rest of Kirschtorte's limited lifetime arguing with a grandma hivemind?! Did the work they do together matter so little to her?!!

When Michelle confronts her about it, Cookie learns in turn that Michelle is permanently cosmically bound to the Grandmatriarchs. Cookie feels betrayed, but she mostly blames Grandma-- ignoring Michelle's agency in the situation, thoughtlessly belittling her to keep her on a pedestal.

They continue to have problems in this and future iterations, with Kirschtorte always spending a large portion of their time together unaware of all their past lives until suddenly becoming aware when she inevitably goes against Cookie's wishes and speaks to the Grandmatriarchs. And yet, as much as they both claim to be ruthless utilitarians who put their work above all else, it is always quite obvious how much they admire each other and how badly they always want to be together, even at their worst. With all the time they spend building and destroying and rebuilding a cookie empire over and over again, they come to know and understand each other very intimately. They're both insufferably weird about each other when they both have all their memories.

[madebycloud]

Love to Keep Me Warm

tara carpenter x reader — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: you spend christmas with your girlfriend warnings/themes: baking (burned) cookies, dancing around the kitchen (cliche but… I WANTTT), watching holiday movies, kissing under the mistletoe, matching pjs & sweaters, cuddles, and… a little bit suggestive convo at the end i guess??? words: 1.2k

me posting another fic then dipping for month/s 🏃💨 —divider not mine

Hallelujah, it's almost Christmas! the TV announces as the snow falls outside your window.

In the living room, a towering christmas tree stands, adorned with twinkling lights and sparkly ornaments. The smell of baked cookies wafts through the air, but the aroma is not as appetizing as you'd hoped.

Tara, standing beside you, looks at the black-burned cookies with wide eyes. “I followed the instructions, but these cookies are ruined! I waited 12 minutes for this?! It says 12 minutes!”

You sigh, knowing your girlfriend's cooking skills all too well.

“We tried, didn't we?” she mumbles, still staring at the burnt cookies.

With a smile, you say, “Let's give it another shot,” taking the pan and dumping the burnt cookies into the trash, ready to give it another shot. “Who knows, maybe a second time's the charm?” You pulled a new mixing bowl out of the cabinet and grabbed ingredients to start over.

“I don't understand why this keeps happening,” she says with a laugh. “I swear, I've never made a good batch of cookies in my life.”

“Well, you know what they say—the best cookies are the ones that come out of the oven, burnt to a crisp,” you joke, trying to cheer her up.

“Ha ha, very funny,” she says with a roll of her eyes. “But what do you think went wrong this time?” 

“I'm thinking we might need to switch up the oven temperature,” you say, turning down the thermostat. “A lower temperature could be the key to perfect cookies.”

She nods in agreement, and the two of you continue working together on the cookie madness, having a laugh and chatting it up while mixing, rolling, baking, and waiting for the cookies to finish.

“Hold up a minute,” you say, grabbing your phone. You browse your spotify christmas playlist for the perfect tune. “Christmas simply wouldn't be complete without these Christmas bangers.” You placed your phone on the counter.

You dance around the kitchen in matching pajamas and your matching ugly christmas sweaters, giggling and singing along to the christmas playlist. You dip her and spin her around, making her laugh hysterically. You both twirl and prance, bumping into each other like two drunken elves at a company party.

You're having so much fun that you completely forgot about the cookies until the timer went off. The two of you rushed to the oven, excited to see how the cookies turned out. When you opened the oven, you were delighted to see perfectly golden-brown cookies. They smell heavenly, and you can't wait to taste them.

“Ahhhh, this is the best Christmas ever!" Tara exclaims, picking up the first cookie and taking a bite out of it. “I think Santa is going to love these cookies,” she giggles.

“They're perfect.” You take another bite, licking the chocolate chips off your finger with a satisfied smirk. She gives you a small kiss on the cheek and then takes another bite of her cookie.

“Oh, we have to decorate these.” She grabs a green frosting tube and squirts it recklessly onto the first cookie.

You laugh and join in, squirting red, yellow, blue, and other colors onto the cookies until they are covered head to toe in messy frosting. 

“We need to add sprinkles!” Together, you run to the cupboard and rifle through the bags of sprinkles, trying to find the perfect ones.

After a few minutes of frantic searching, you come up with a variety of glittery, sparkly, and edible colors that you toss all over the cookies. 

“Voila!” Tara says, holding up a cookie for you to see. 

“These are the most horrible, beautiful christmas cookies ever.” you say as you examine the colorful, messy, and probably delicious masterpiece.

“You know what would make this even better? Some hot chocolate,” she says, grabbing a pot.

You both grab a mug and fill it up with hot chocolate. The steam rises from the cups, and the fragrance of chocolate fills the air.

“To another year of cookie disasters,” Tara says, raising her mug.

“To cookie disasters,” you reply, clinking mugs.

—

At last, you two finished cleaning the kitchen. The counters are empty, the dishes are washed and dried, and the oven is turned off. 

“Looks like everything was a success,” Tara says, admiring the clean kitchen.

You pick up the cookies and hot chocolate, inviting her to join you on the plush couch.

You sit on the couch with blankets wrapped around you, hot chocolate in hand, and cookies on the coffee table.

“Let's see what we have on Christmas eve.” She reached for the remote and flipped through the channels, eventually finding a holiday movie to watch.

Snuggled under the blanket, you sip your hot chocolate and eat your cookies. The movie is heartwarming, and you both feel your stress melt away.

“You know, I've always wanted to spend Christmas like this,” she says, leaning her head against your shoulder.

You smile and wrap your arm around her, pulling her close to you. “Yeah, me too,” you say, kissing her on the forehead.

You glance at her, trying to hide the shy smile on your face. 

She quirks her eyebrow at you, her full lips curving into a playful smile. “What?” Her hand sliding onto your arm and pulling you closer. “Are you admiring the scenery?” 

You quickly stand up, pretending to check something in the kitchen. You can feel Tara's eyes on you, waiting to see what you're up to. 

When you return, you're holding something behind your back that Tara can't quite identify. You sit next to her and reach behind her head, placing something on top of both of your heads. A mistletoe.

“You really know how to surprise me.”

She leans in, placing her finger on your jaw and pulling you closer until your lips meet hers. The warm, sweet taste of a mix of chocolate and marshmallows fills your mouth.

With your free hand, you reach behind her head, pulling her closer to you. She wraps her arms around your neck, bringing you even closer.

Your noses touch as your lips stay locked together, and the warmth of each other's breath sends shivers down your spine.

Tara pulls away, breathless and flushed. You both sit there, stunned, savoring the moment and the feeling of being so close to each other.

Finally, she breaks the silence. “You know what would make this evening even better?” She asks you with a sly grin.

“What? Are you hungry for more already?” you respond with a laugh.

She stands up and walks to the entrance of the bedroom. Reaching the doorway, she looks back at you, arching an eyebrow as if she's daring you to follow her.

Before you know it, you're following her into the bedroom. The door closes with a soft click, shutting out the rest of the world.

But you're greeted by the unexpected sight of Tara peacefully sleeping in bed. You can't help but let out a disappointed sigh.

She sees you standing over her then gives you a mischievous grin. “What? Were you expecting something?”

You shake your head. “No, no, I just thought…”

“Thought what?”

“I thought we were going to…” you begin to say before trailing off. 

“Oh, you thought wrong,” Tara says, throwing back the covers and inviting you to join her.

She opens her arms wide and smiles at you, inviting you to cuddle up with her. 

“But you know what?” you say, burying yourself in the crook of her neck. “I think I prefer this.”

tara:

dsajhdahda anyways... (advance) merry christmas! <3