#quartz butt-plug

[musings-from-an-elder-goth]

After you've taken a dump in a UFO shaped toilet, Gandalf wipes your ass with holographic toilet paper while in the next stall, Mulder and Scully argue about the healing power of crystals and how one would remove a large quartz butt-plug from Plato's rectum.

creaturesfromelsewhere 8-21-2023

[da-pretty-bunbun-pupper]

pink toyyysssss >>> ૮ ⸝⸝っ·̫ <⸝⸝ ྀིა

Aka my pink toy master list/wish list hehe >:3

my pride n joy my bbg the toy of my dreams fr i wan it soooo badly ^^

https://www.spencersonline.com/product/icicles-no-24-glass-dildo-6-inch/72339.uts

https://www.spencersonline.com/product/glitter-glow-glow-in-the-dark-waterproof-pink-vibrator-8-inch-hott-love-extreme/233148.uts

https://www.adameve.com/adult-sex-toys/vibrators/realistic-vibrators/sp-beginner-vibrating-ding-dong-102940.aspx

https://www.spencersonline.com/product/budz-weed-leaf-g-spot-vibrator-and-bullet-vibrator-sex-toy-kit/240597.uts

https://www.spencersonline.com/product/i-scream-10-function-rechargeable-clitoral-massager-3-7-inch-sexology/248875.uts

https://https://www.adameve.com/adult-sex-toys/vibrators/anal-vibrators/sp-adam-eve-dual-entry-vibrator-with-remote-control-108377.aspx

https://www.spencersonline.com/product/pink-ombre-fox-tail-metal-butt-plug-18-5-inch/249086.uts

https://www.spencersonline.com/product/bunny-tail-butt-plug-6-7-inch/166571.uts

https://www.spencersonline.com/product/beaded-glass-butt-plug-7-5-inch/140074.uts

https://www.spencersonline.com/product/backdoor-vibes-vibrating-anal-beads-hott-love-extreme/230175.uts

https://www.spencersonline.com/product/icicles-no-75-massager-4-inch/160299.uts

https://www.spencersonline.com/product/crystal-passion-rose-quartz-butt-plug-3-inch-hott-love/232052.uts

Lmk what’s ur fav? :3

(also who wants to buy puppy toys ૮ >⸝⸝⸝⸝< ა I’ll send u pics n videos of me using itttt pweaseeeee)

[tyrranux64]

"Masked Killer Echo"

Fredrick “Frisk” Mercury {MASKED KILLER ECHO} [Marc Soskin]

Caucasian American, age 20, femboy, gay. 5 feet 3 inches. An all in one sex machine that can rock your world for the right price. Spunky, perky, dazzling, alluring, passionate, tenacious, professional butt chugger, consistent five star rating……and homeless. Living off the streets of Providence City not even allowed to stay at a hotel unless he’s with a client, having to give up 80% of his earnings to his pimp Valentino Vox, left with barely enough to eat for a given week. Not to mention he has to keep taking vaccination for the sexually transmitted Hellfire Disease which gives him constant hot flashes in his neither regions if he doesn’t keep up with treatments. It is a horrible life bar none. The only thing that keeps him going is his adopted sibling Chrost Matoi, this little genderless brat that just dropped into his life about three years ago and became his best friend. In caring for Chrost he found new purpose, the very purpose that made it possible for him to don the Masked Killer Bat Driver becoming the notorious gentlemen thief Echo.

[MASKED KILLER ECHO] {Laura Bailey} -Vicious Driver [BAT]; A predominantly bluish black outer armor further amplifying the femboy’s feminine build, granting him the unique speed and finesse of a catwoman. Height does not change in this form. His affinity for music has twisted the sound based capabilities of the Bat Driver, mutating them from mere sound based abilities to more drastic influence over the very wavelengths of reality itself letting him stop time in short controlled bursts! -{SKIP}- Instantaneously fast forwards time about 6 seconds in a manner much like jump cutting. -{PAUSE}- A full on time stop that lasts for up to 6 seconds. -{REPLAY}- Instantaneously rewinds time back about 6 seconds in a manner much like jump cutting. -{MUTE}- Nullifies all sound for 6 seconds thereby rendering the very concept of causality null and void, for example, attacks from enemies don't do any damage. Using any of these time based abilities will tax Echo greatly, using them too much could endanger his life.

-Overkill Core [WIDOW]; A red and blue inner armor that grants him the ability to spin seemingly infinite webs from his fingertips. Not only that it grants him the ability to shrink down to the size of a quarter increasing his molecular density and magnifying his strength to Herculean. He can only sustain this shrunken form for at least 30 seconds.

_________________________________________________

THE MASKED KILLERS Augmented humans wearing quantum mechanical biotech armors that all but make their biology inhuman. Easily identified by their monstrously shaped graffiti like eyes and having no mouth or nose. Originally created by an underground criminal empire known as Shade for the purpose of being an elite assassin taking out police forces, political targets and “undesirables”. But then came the first Masked Killer Echo who destroyed Shade leaving the Masked Killers without a master, the technology thus vanishing into the underworld for anyone to find and use to their own ends.....

-Vicious Driver; A distinct belt with a unusually large buckle like device, pumped full of viviparous animal genomes via internal quantum quartz data chips. This provides the quantum mechanical Ambrosia energy that encases the user in a fully developed battle armor giving them strength and abilities beyond imagination.

-Overkill Core; A concentrated pocket of oviparous animal genomes digitized and crystallized into a perpetual energy battery. Once plugged into the Vicious Driver, the Masked Killer is brought to life, giving them specific elemental capabilities indicative of the oviparous genomes stored in the core.

[mynamesdrstuff]

.

[towez]

excuse you it is PERINEUM sunning and EXTREMELY GOOD for the skin

i firmly believe he PROTECTS his actual hole from sun burns as any man should by wearing a ROSE QUARTZ BUTT PLUG

ANON. LISTEN. I talk about this constantly to with my BFF, M, and I will add on to your WONDERFUL thoughts. Jonny sunbathes anywhere in the world, but I firmly believe Arizona is where he finds his zen. He grounds while wearing his toe socks, and when the sun is high in the sky our boy just lets it all soak in.

However, he is no dummy, he protects that skin within an inch of his life. He wears SPF 50 everywhere, and Kaner might help him reach his shoulders and neck because they easily burn🥹. But then he’ll lube up the butt plug with the SPF, and he’s SET. and maybe just maybe it’ll have a vibrate setting?👉👈. ☺️

[bisexualgoths]

if i used a quartz crystal as a butt plug would it work faster than a normal crystal??

[theocseason4]

Sad you guys don’t understand portuguese because I am watching this lady review her new rose quartz butt plug on instagram. She just mentioned vegan lube!!!!! Not as thrilling as gigi hadidi’s granola review but will anything ever be?

[op-peccatori]

adamō (M) | IkeVamp Isaac

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Pairing: Isaac Newton/Fem!Reader

Rating: 18+/NSFW/Explicit 

Summary: Isaac decides to surprise you with something you’ve been wanting to see, thereby earning himself a wonderful reward.

Word Count: 3400

adamō (latin): (verb) I love truly, earnestly, deeply / to fall in love with, conceive desire for, desire eagerly

a/n: This work may contain themes/elements you might not be comfortable with, so please, please read the warnings/tags under the cut, and skip it if you’re uncomfortable with them!

Also, I’m going feral for Isaac. This started out as a thirsty little thought and was fostered by Faa’s NSFW HCs for Isaac ( ͡≖ ᴗ ͡≖)

Warnings/Tags: explicit sexual content, oral sex, pegging/anal sex, rimming, minor crossdressing (underwear), butt plugs, might be OOC because I haven’t finished his route

The fading sunlight spills in through the open window. The softest hues of orange and gold, the sweet spring air at its heels, and you try to be discreet in the way you watch Isaac as he runs his fingers over the soft fabric; it’s a lovely mint green, just a little patch of it visible where he’d tugged the waistband of his pants down.

The sight of it a gift you’d been waiting for.

You had discussed it a few days back, but you hadn’t been expecting him to show up wearing them and rob you of all sense.

“Have you been wearing them all day?” you ask, voice hushed even though you’re within the safety of your room, as if one of the other residents would break in and witness what has to be one of the top ten moments of your life. You don’t want to share this with anyone, ever.

“Yes, they’re surprisingly...comfortable,” he admits, eyes lifting just the slightest to take in your expression before they avert once more. “Very soft.”

“They look great too.” The words, not adequate enough to convey the way your mouth waters, or the way your fingers burn with the urge to touch. 

“I can see that from your face,” Isaac mumbles, the corners of his mouth quirking faintly. “Why are you standing so far away?”

It’s true, you realize. Your fingers dig into the surface of the desk behind you, as if they’ll disobey and try to grab him. 

“Can I-?” You hesitate, stumbling toward him; after weeks of watching him study your underwear with increasing curiosity, you almost can’t believe you’re here. 

You’re sure the flush on his cheeks matches yours as he takes your hands in his, pulling you closer. The brush of your fingers, featherlight, but the weight of your stare is an intense, fixed thing. 

“Is it really so fascinating?” he asks, tugging at his hair until he’s managed an excellent imitation of the fruit he’s teased for so relentlessly.  

You drop to your knees in answer; he looks taken aback when your fingers brush the backs of his hands before curling around them loosely. “May I?”

“You needn’t a-ask...for permission,” Isaac says, and trembles when your lips brush the palm of his hand, and over his clothed erection.

Breath stuck in his throat, he lets his hands fall to his sides, content to let you drink him in as you unbutton his pants. You pull them down to his feet and he steps out of them, quiet. The air between you is heavier, your desire for each other never really ebbing away completely. The velvet pads of your fingers caress his skin, and it feels like static, makes his cock twitch, and it still confuses him a little, the way it seems to create little sparks along his spine.

Isaac never understood people, or feelings. But he trusts the way his consume him, he trusts the vulnerable whispers in the dark, stories exchanged along with tender kisses. He trusts the friendship you forged together, the love you both tumbled into, the way your bodies react when arousal drips heavy from you both.

You watch the way his eyes darken.

Is it really so fascinating, he’d asked, standing there in his shirt and vest, hair still a little rumpled, creamy skin flushed warmly, his socks mismatched. How comfortable he seems in his skin, at this moment, trusting you so deeply.

The fabric around his hips is so very soft, hugging his skin perfectly. There are two tiny bows on each side and it looks a little tight but—your fingers nearly spasm—that’s surely because he’s half-hard, the pretty underwear you’d picked out for him a little too snug around his bulge.

You don’t think you could ever get enough of this, you think, eyes sliding shut for a second when you feel his fingers in your hair. 

“I-is it how you imagined it?” he asks, looking a little self-conscious now as you continue to gape like a complete fool. 

“Isaac,” you begin, and your voice cracks. “Isaac, you look beautiful.”

“...You tell me that nearly every day,” he mutters, but when you look up at him there’s that pleased little smile dancing along his lips. It’s oddly similar to the one he wears after solving a problem, and after he’s made you come on his tongue more than once. It’s triumph, edged with desire and devotion. 

He likes to see you happy.

“Well, I mean it every day. But, god, you look so good.” Your lips meet the warm skin of his thigh and his palm settles on your head. 

“I’m going to need another meal before I let you tempt me any further,” he says, stern, but desire clear in his pale eyes. You lick along the edges of the cloth and his grip tightens.

Your teeth graze the curve of his growing bulge.

“...Blast it. Have at it, then.” With a loud cheer in the privacy if your mind, you tug the panties down swiftly; there’s not much time. Your mouth wraps around the head of his flushed length, sucking with a desperate kind of determination. His hips jerk frantically, slipping in deeper, spurred on by your moans.

“Gods, I won’t last too long if you d-do it like that,” he gasps, and you hollow your cheeks further, head bobbing fervently to meet his thrusts. Your intention was never to draw this out, and your eyes crack open just enough to catch the way his expression contorts helplessly when he spills himself onto your tongue.

You take a moment, chest heaving, the taste of him still strong in your mouth, and then you waste no more time before guiding him toward the bed. He looks a bit dazed, but catches on fast when you begin to undress him. He tilts his head towards you, and you press your lips to his chastely before pushing him back onto the mattress.

With one eye on the clock, you let yourself taste him.

Admiring the curve of his spine, you watch the way Isaac trembles before you. With his cheek pressing into your soft pillow, hands curling into crisp sheets under his chest, his knees spread and bum pushed into the air-he looks exquisite.

You had told him so, while peppering reverent kisses all over his back; he told you your sincerity was rather embarrassing, especially with your fingers tracing his sensitive cock lazily.

It’s a little strange, to be fully clothed while he has not a single garment on his body. Marks bloom all over his body, speckled across his chest, his inner thighs, his lower back. His length hangs, hard and leaking once more between his legs.

Another soft moan, quickly muffled, fights its way out his throat as the tip of your tongue traces the tight ring of muscle at his entrance. A single, lube-slicked finger pushes its way in, and you marvel at how tight he always is. 

“It’s been a while since we did this, huh?” you hum, sympathetic, the pumping of your digit slow and precise. He squeezes hard, sucking it in, and you caress his thigh gently. 

Isaac mumbles something, but you don’t quite catch it. “You’re going to have to be a little louder, darling.”

“I said—you can put another.” 

“Sure?” He wouldn’t say so unless he was sure, but Isaac does get a little too impatient at times; vampire or not, you like to prepare him thoroughly.

“Mm. I’m not fragile,” he arches his back a little, looking back at you over a shoulder. His gaze, half-lidded with lust, is unwavering as it meets yours, blush strands falling haphazardly over his forehead. You resist the urge to smooth them away. You revel in the pure comfort of your relationship; exploring, working through things with him is always a delight. You stand together, shoulder to shoulder, no shame at all when you try new things in the bedroom, only curiosity and eager hands.

The first time you had touched him, he had come all over your fingers, and chin, before you could take him in your mouth. He had blushed so hard you had worried he would pass out, but instead he had watched keenly as you licked every drop from your skin. And then, he pressed your body into the bed and buried his face between your legs.

The way he moans when you acquiesce and slide in another finger makes your mouth water. The way he writhes when you add another, pumping steadily, the wet squelches loud in the silence of the room—makes you squirm, your own walls clenching desperately at the sound. He is so sensitive, the needy sounds he makes are dangerously addictive, and it makes you greedy.

“There,” he gasps, at a twist of your wrist. His hips push back into your hand, urging you. “There, there.” 

But it isn’t quite time yet.

And so you withdraw your fingers with a whispered apology, much to his consternation, reaching for the little toy you’ve chosen for him today. It slides in without much effort, and you take a moment to admire the little jewel nestled between his cheeks. 

“You’re-wicked,” Isaac accuses, breathless and blushing, as he collapses onto his stomach. He looks mutinous, eyes that usually remind you of the rose quartz you used to keep on your coffee table now edging into a furious garnet.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to go clean up before dinner,” you tell him, massaging his lower back. “But I’ve got tomorrow off. I promise I’ll take care of you, tonight and tomorrow.”

Isaac scoffs, stretching languidly and watching intently as you right your clothes.  “...Promise?”

You press a quick kiss at the base of his spine. “I’m all yours, darling.”

You enjoy pampering Isaac, but you have to admit, watching him squirm through dinner is extremely enjoyable. 

Or, perhaps, you’ve been spending too much time with Theo. Where else could this sadistic streak have come from?

The blush on his cheeks seems near-constant, and he can’t seem to look anybody in the eye for more than a second, let alone you, who seems to be watching him with an almost hungry glint in your eyes. 

It does not go unnoticed.

“Ugh, save the bedroom eyes for the bedroom, hondje,” comes a complaint from your right, and you look back down at your plate as Theo grumbles. Vincent shoots you an apologetic look, but even he looks a little curious. “He can’t even eat with you looking like you want to eat him.”

You laugh, careless and innocent, fingers digging into your thigh as Isaac makes an odd, choked sound and drops his fork, looking mortified immediately after. Next to him, Arthur seems to be watching the two of you, looking extremely entertained. At Isaac’s reaction, he blinks, jaw slackening as he looks at you. 

You narrow your eyes at him in warning, and he just looks dumbfounded.

The food tastes better than usual, and you wonder if it’s because of the knowledge that just an hour ago your mouth had been buried between Isaac’s legs.

Cleaning up after dinner took a while, and despite Sebastian’s attempts at shooing you away, you stayed until the kitchen and dining rooms were spotless. Bidding him a good night, you make your way up to your room with slow, measured steps. 

You hadn’t gotten a chance to speak to Isaac after dinner, as Leonardo had whisked him away to have a look at something. They usually spend a while on whatever objects they tinker with; satisfaction settles in your gut, however, when you open the door to your room to find him stretched out on his stomach, bare feet hanging over the edge. 

“I thought you’d be busy for hours, with the way Leonardo was talking.” You settle next to him on the bed, palm sliding down the length of his spine and back up. He looks relaxed, leaning into your touch as your fingers slide up to weave through his hair. 

“I told him I’ll have a look at it tomorrow. He’s not the sort to ask questions.” He cracks open an eye, looking a bit sullen. “You took a while.”

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting. We can go straight to bed, if you want. You look so sleepy,” you murmur, fingernail raking across his scalp. He shudders, the softest of sounds escaping him before he seems to process your words, blinking slowly, eyes narrowing.

You’re on your back before you can speak any further, wrists pinned above your head, an incensed Isaac looming over you. He presses in, chest to chest, hips meeting yours and—

“Oh,” you moan when he rocks into you.

“Yes. Oh. I assure you, sleep is the last thing on my mind,” he hisses like a wronged feline, before withdrawing. A baffling, contradicting blend of bashful and wicked, your Isaac. “Unless you’d like to, of course.” 

“And leave you like that?” you exclaim, aghast. “Do you really think I’m that cruel?”

“Well, then. Why are you still lying there like a fool? Are you going to fuck me or not?” he asks, cheeks reddening as frustration overtakes any shame. 

“Isaac!” But you get up even as you laugh, heading over to your drawers to get the equipment out. He comes up behind you, working the ties of your dress open, warm lips pressing to the nape of your neck. You step over it as it pools at your feet, reaching for the buttons of his shirt, slipping it off his shoulders smoothly. The pants come off, leaving him in the panties, your eyes fixating on the trail of soft pink hair, the end of which is only just visible beneath the sheer fabric.

You kiss, softly, then frantically, your breasts pressing into his chest. 

“I ate extra, today. Just in case,” he tells you, kissing down the slender slope of your neck, nipping gently. 

“Okay. I trust you.” Your nails rake down his sides and he nearly melts in your arms.

“Fool,” he mutters, kissing you gently, gratefully. 

“Yes, but I’m your fool,” you return breathlessly, smile just a touch impish.

You can only blink then, as you’re pressed back into the drawers, and whimper when he sinks down and licks into your cunt. He’s unrelenting, two fingers pushing in to join his mouth as it slides up to your clit, hands curling around the back of your knee and lifting it to get better access. It’s a testament to how well you’ve come to know each other that he knows where to touch you, tongue circling maddeningly, to make you come on his mouth.

You’re not entirely sure how you end up on the floor, but his arms are around you, your face buried in his chest.

“What was that for?” Your words are muffled by his skin, but by now both of you have learned to decipher most of the other’s many variations of mumbling.

“Couldn’t go wrong with another snack,” he retorts, kissing the side of your head. “And just in case I fall asleep right after.”

He has never fallen asleep right after sex, no matter how many waves upon waves of pleasure you’ve drawn from each other. 

You’re grinning even as he helps you with the strap on, and it still feels a bit funny, but comfortable as you both work through it together. 

“You’re so considerate, Zack. I’ll give it my all tonight,” you nod resolutely. “I’ve been doing a lot of squats.”

“...Be quiet.” He looks like he’s trying not to laugh.

“But Isaac, you like it when I talk-”

Isaac takes your hand, pulling you along to the bed as you laugh at his disgruntlement—it dies in your throat when your eyes catch sight of the soft swell of his rear. You hook your thumbs into the delicate waistband of the panties, tugging them down his legs with the utmost care, lips pressing warm kisses into the lean muscle of his thighs.

He’s patient, resting on his back, legs bent in the air as you slide the plug out and press slick fingers into his hole, stretching him open. Eyes bright, he’s good to go, but he knows your need to check, just in case.

He studies the way your brow furrows just a little before smoothing out, satisfaction in your eyes as you look back up at him, wiping your hand clean on a small towel. There’s a pillow under his hips, a jug of water on the bedside table.

He feels so warm, inside and out.

“Okay, that’s good enough. Are you ready?”

He thinks for a quick second and pulls you down, body curving over his as he crushes his mouth to yours, kissing you messily.

“Now I am.” 

Your smile is more tender than lustful as you pull back and take hold of the dildo, pressing it into him carefully. It slides in without much resistance at first, with you only slowing to a halt halfway through. He can’t quite think, but he can hear your soft whispers, the feel of your fingers combing through his hair.

“We doing okay?”

“Ngh,” he replies—groans, really—and you nod seriously. 

“Okay, good.”

You roll your hips in small, controlled motions that help you slide in deeper and squash his ability to form sentences. He moans, and moans, and moans, reaching for your hand blindly. You lace your fingers through his, your other hand tight on his hip. 

“You’re doing so well, baby.”

He whimpers in response, eyes squeezing shut when you begin to fuck him slowly. He hasn’t gotten any less sensitive, his cock feeling ready to burst already. 

You can’t stop staring at him, his length bouncing as you thrust harder; he’s twisting and whimpering but he’s surrendered completely, mind blissfully overtaken by pleasure. Your hand slides over firm skin to cup his balls, heavy in your palm, and your lips curve into a tiny smirk as his eyes fly open.

“You’re ready to come, aren’t you, darling?”

At his frantic nod, you increase your pace, thrusting harder, eager to see him unravel. His mouth falls open noiselessly, but with a slight change in angle, he’s keening, back arching as your fingers squeeze his balls gently, not touching his cock. 

You don’t need to.

He comes on a broken whisper of your name, thick ropes of come spurting over his chest, his eyes wet and legs trembling. You pant with exertion, pink and sweaty, watching as his eyes flutter open. He looks gorgeous, wrecked and so blissed-out it makes you a little giddy.

“Hey, you,” you murmur, propped up over him, pressing your lips to his forehead, grinning a little at how he offers his cheek next, sighing as you pull out.

“Hello,” he croaks, voice still raspy, and you collapse next to him with a loud, contented exhale. You both take a moment to breathe, hands clasped together, one of your legs thrown over his. But your mind will not let you rest until you’ve cleaned him up, and you do so with an admittedly besotted little smile at the way he dozes softly. 

Putting the harness away, and the dildo for a thorough cleaning session, you return to bed to find Isaac watching you. You coax him into sitting up, handing him a glass of water as you rearranging the pillows behind him. 

“I’m fine.”

“I know, I know,” you reply distractedly. “Should I bring you something to eat?”

He peers at you over the rim of the glass, before setting it aside quietly. Slender fingers curl around your bicep, pulling you onto the bed until you’re sprawled beneath him. Bright-eyed and far from groggy, he smiles at you, fangs peeking through. 

“I take it you’re not sleepy after all?” You’re a little embarrassed by how squeaky that was, but he’s looking at you like he’s ready to devour you. You realize, pleasure sinking low in your belly, that you’re dripping.

You watch as the wicked parts of him take over, pale pink eyes pinning you in place as he licks down the soft planes of your abdomen, nuzzling your belly. 

“Mm, no,” he affirms, crawling up to flick his tongue over a taut nipple, a shiver breaking out across your skin as his fangs graze fragile skin ever so softly. “I do, however, find myself in need of a quick bite.”

A wolf in sheep’s clothing indeed—one you’re hopelessly in love with.

ending notes: I wrote most of this while running on no sleep but ngl I had a lot of fun! 

[threeleggedcrow]

tumblr please i don't want rose quartz butt plugs stop showing me these ads ffs

[mankai-afterhours]

(hnnng the banners ffakskss they look so good! Mmmm)

I didn't think you guys would be so eager~. How could I choose just one~? I'll devote time to each of you individually, starting with Sakuya.

I think you're going to be a wonderful pup dear. I have the perfect collar for you. It's studded with rose quartz and has my name on it~. It suits you, don't you think? Put it on like a good boy and I'll tell you what to do next.

Start off with you fingering yourself. Turn towards me so I can see everything. I have this cute little vibrating tail butt plug that will go in once you're done. Don't hold back, okay? Because I surely won't~.

-Prince 🛡️

Ohh, it's a really pretty collar! Thank you! ^//^

Should it be loose or... more like a choker? Am I wearing it right? Do you want me to call you something special? Like master?

Oh! Then m-maybe I should get on my knees to make it easier... mmh... hahh... it's still pretty tight, even with two fingers... are you sure it'll fit?

Um, w-what does a tail plug look like? ♡

- Sakuya 🌸

[bridgettekingsley]

Title: You Will Be Found

Word Count: 976

Trigger Warnings: drug mention, relapse mention

Summary: Bridgette’s dad is missing, but he’s not the only one who’s lost. When Bridgette tries to find him by scrying, she ends up seeing more about her own path than his. She’s lost, but Sorcha is there to remind her she will be found.

“Even when the dark comes crashing through, when you need a friend to carry you, and when you’re broken on the ground… you will be found.”

Bridgette closed her bedroom door and turned the lock. She was home alone, but it was habit now to lock her door when she felt she needed privacy. Sorcha had a habit of ignoring a closed door and walking in whenever she felt like it. Today, Bridgette needed privacy so she could scry. Carefully, she pulled the mirror from her wall and laid it flat on the ground at the foot of her bed before she centered the smooth black glass bowl her mother had given her as a graduation present on top of it. She grabbed the collected water bottles from her nightstand, most of them only half empty, and used the remaining water to fill the bowl. Maybe it wasn’t the best water to use for scrying, but it would work.

The bowl filled, Bridgette stood and began collecting the other things she’d need to channel her magic. On the windowsill, she had an assortment of crystals. After a moment of contemplation, she chose the medium cut quartz, deciding she needed the balance and focus the crystal would give. From her desk, she grabbed two candles, a smudge stick, and her lighter. Finally, she was ready to begin.

Bridgette first placed the quartz into her bowl of water, taking care to get it centered. She hadn’t used a crystal as focal point for scrying in years, but lately… it was like she was learning to use magic all over again. Next, she stood to turn off her bedroom light before she lit the two pillar candles she’d gathered, checking to be sure she could see their reflections in her bowl. Satisfied, she focused her intentions, took a deep breath, lit the end of her smudge stick and then blew it out, allowing the smoke to cleanse her ritual area and body of any negative emotions and distracting energies before finally snuffing it out.

Bridgette closed her eyes and kneeled in front of her scrying bowl, allowing her open palms to rest lightly on her thighs as she focused on her breathing. The routine  was so familiar. Bridgette had done this for years, even when her powers had been bound. The process was meditative and calming and she always felt more centered and in control of herself afterward. Slipping into the necessary trance-like state to scry was as easy as breathing. Opening her eyes when she felt the rush of magic in her body, peaceful and powerful all at once, Bridgette looked into the bowl, allowing the quartz in the bowl to focus her gaze and her thoughts to wander.

Bridgette had never attempted to use divination to locate a lost person before, but it had been a few month since her father had gone missing from town and she was desperate. Her family didn’t talk about it. They hadn’t really talked about Jeremy since her mother had thrown him out of the house nearly fourteen years ago and as far as Bridgette knew, she was the only one who had kept in contact with him. It was a tender spot in her relationship with Dominic. Bridgette adored her older brother, she did, but she loved her dad as well. She just couldn’t come to grips that the man she’d adored and looked up to her whole childhood had been the same man to cause her brother so much pain and grief. So, they didn’t talk about it.

Unfortunately, not talking about it meant Bridgette had no one in her family to talk to about the distress she felt when her father went missing. She’d been so overwhelmed, that before she knew it, she’d been texting Trevor and setting up a place to meet, her latest attempt at sobriety completely forgotten. That had been about four months ago.

As the memory slipped from her mind, other images followed. Forest paths that abruptly ended, water circling the sink drain after the plug has been pulled, small plastic baggies, lines of Pixie Dust. When the images stopped, the feelings began: shame, guilt, anger, loss, lost, adrift, untethered, alone, alone, alone.

With a gasp, Bridgette came out of her trance, falling back to sit on her butt as the ache in her knees made itself known. She was crying. When had she started crying? Shakily, she leaned forward to blow out the candles, casting her room into darkness. She needed to get off the floor, but she couldn't. She didn’t have the energy, couldn’t stop thinking about what had been revealed to her, couldn’t think of anything other than the bone deep loneliness she’d felt.

“Bridge? Are you in there?” Sorcha turned the door handle, only to find it locked. Her knocking shook the door in its frame. Still Bridgette sat, staring unseeingly into the dark water before her. “Bridge? Let me in, dude, come on.” Another knock. Silence. “Bridge, I’m getting the key and I’m coming in okay?” The last time Bridgette had relapsed, she and Sorcha agreed that she could lock her door and Sorcha wouldn’t push it, but only if Bridgette was responsive when she knocked. The room fell silent once more as Sorcha’s footsteps retreated.

“Bridgette? Why the fuck is it dark in here?” Sorcha had returned only moments later, key in hand. Her voice sounded annoyed but the thrum of worry radiating off of her was undeniable. She flipped the light switch and the sudden brightness startled Bridgette into turning to face her. “B, what-” Sorcha cut herself off as she took in the haunted look in Bridgette’s eyes and the tear streaks on her face. “Oh, Bridge….” She moved to sit on the floor next to Bridgette and wrapped the witch up in her arms, running a soothing hand over the back of her head.”It’s okay B, whatever it is, it’s okay. I’m here, you’re not alone. I’m here”  Alone. Alone. Alone?

[imaseawitch]

Not to tell on myself but tumblr's algorithm really thinks I want this rose quartz butt plug

[jazzyssexyvibes]

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[ibuprofen600mg]

~Beautiful ask

tagged by the darling @hamartophilliac

~if I were the day of the week I’d be: Monday

~if I were a planet I’d be: Neptune  

~if I were a sea animal I’d be: a smol fishy plop plop

~ if I were a god/goddess I’d be: Persephone, I wanna fuck Hades too, hell yeah.

~if I were a piece of furniture I’d be: a distressed baby chair that survived a house fire.

~if I were a gemstone I’d be: smoky quartz

~if I were a flower I’d be: black dahlia

~if I were a kind of weather I’d be: gloomy, suffocating, humid weather

~if I were an emotion I’d be: heavy hearted

~if I were a color I’d be: olive green

~if I were a fruit I’d be: a rotten cherry that’s too attached to the other cherry belonging to the same stem

~if I were a sound I’d be: the sound you make when you try to suppress your cries.

~if I were an element I’d be: zinc

~if I were a place I’d be a: demonic church  

~if I were a mythological creature I’d be a: vamp

~if I were the taste I’d be the: taste of icing on a poorly made cake

~if I were a scent I’d be the: smell of halloween organ candies

~if I were an object I’d be a: bunny tail butt plug or a sundial.

~if I were a body part I’d be the: neck

thank you @hamartophilliac for tagging me! I would like to tag @chocolatesunburn @badimpressions @gelouss @leftsideofanislandx @yourdeadlyremedy @mylightt @x3306

[threeleggedcrow]

tumblr please stop showing me viagra ads i am not interested. show me the rose quartz butt plug again instead

[uberfluss]

When you clunk your rose quartz dildo and butt plug together for the priest grooming you in confessional

penis music… songs from the vatican gift shop (1996)