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serpentface · 2 months ago

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Cattle of some of the eastern Inner Seaway peoples.

(Note that these are all landrace types, many have high rates of introgression from other cattle types, and most are not altogether distinct from neighboring cattle or subject to intense artificial selection in general. Each type of cattle here can have tremendous variation in phenotype and may have individuals barely resembling the drawing or description. This post just illustrates the most common/characteristic traits of each type.)

(all cattle are shown in their summer coats)

Ganne, Wardi native cattle

This is the native cattle landrace in contemporary Imperial Wardin and most of its immediate geographic neighbors. It is an ancient population and has been the bedrock for subsistence for the majority of the Wardi peoples' histories, and remains agriculturally central as well as sacred and culturally beloved. It is not truly distinct from most of its neighboring cattle populations to the east, with few geographic barriers keeping it genetically isolated until the you reach the Blackmane mountain range.

This is an all-purpose type used for labor, meat, hides, milk, blood, manure, and fuel.

Characteristic lyrate horns, upward curving horns are common in some populations with recent wild aurochs ancestry.

Long, convex sloping face.

Long body with fairly lanky legs.

Long hanging wattle and fatty hump

Small eyes.

High poll

Significant sexual dimorphism in size

Substantial variation in color and pattern, though small clustered spots like this are notably common.

Long, thick tail.

Typically calm temperament.

Develops a short winter coat.

Strong tolerance to heat, resistant to water scarcity.

Comfortable in typical 40-60F lowland winters, but suffers in sustained freezing temperatures and does not instinctively graze through snow.

Excellent and highly adaptive forager, needs virtually no supplementation to their diet if sufficient pasture is accessible (aside from sedentary populations during winter).

Can fare well in a variety of habitats ranging from semi-desert scrub to open woodland, though best suited to grassland.

Meat of a healthy animal is relatively rich, moderate fat content.

Saungri, Ubiya cattle

This is the primary cattle type used by Ubiyan peoples along the northeast, east, and southeast of the Viper seaway, and is vital to the subsistence of Ubiyan nomadic pastoralists. Of the cattle listed here, it is most closely related to the ganne. The saungri is also likely the oldest of all types here.

This is an all-purpose type used for labor, meat, hides, milk, blood, manure, and fuel.

Tall, athletic build, fairly compact in length.

Long legs.

High poll.

Long hanging wattle and fatty hump on back.

Short, bristly tail.

Fairly large udder.

Curving horns are most common.

Significant sexual dimorphism in size, cows usually have forward-curving lyrate horns while most bulls have upward curved horns.

Typically calm temperament.

Color variation is tremendous, but bright red patterns like this are culturally favored.

Tolerant of heat, but not particularly resistant to water scarcity.

Develops a short winter coat.

Comfortable in typical 30-60F winter temperatures, though cannot handle sustained sub-freezing chill.

Excellent and highly adaptive forager, needs virtually no supplementation to the diet if sufficient pasture is accessible (aside from sedentary populations during winter).

Meat is fairly lean.

Ashyu, Yuroma cattle

A cattle type native to the contemporary Lowlands Yuroma city-states. These societies have a very long history of settled agriculture and have never been deeply reliant on their cattle, though it is still highly valued livestock and important to agriculture and the diet.

This is a multi-purpose type predominantly used for meat, hides, milk, and manure. Khait are favored for most labor, though the ashyu is invaluable for the tending of rice paddies and as a pack animal in marshy terrain.

Small, fairly delicate, and erect in build.

Long legs.

Long, thin tail with flowing hair.

Short, sloping face and big eyes.

Most have a mid-length wattle and a fatty hump.

Naturally polled horns or upward curving horns are most common.

Wide hooves amenable to uneven surfaces and marshy ground.

Very sure-footed.

Medium sized udders.

Typically energetic temperament.

Tremendous variation in color and pattern, but 'color-sided' patterns such as this are notably common.

Very tolerant of heat and humidity, but has very high water needs.

Develops a very short winter coat.

Winters in most of its native range are extremely mild and rarely dip below the mid 40s, sustained freezes can be deadly for ashyu.

Developed from mostly settled populations and not the greatest forager, does not range widely. Needs to be sustained almost entirely on feed during the sparsest couple winter months.

Meat is fairly tender.

Kulustaig

Cattle type indigenous to the Highlands northwest of Wardi land. This breed began as a population merger of approximately 1/3 proto-Finn native cattle 2/3 proto-Wardi native cattle, though most kulustaig are highly distinct from the descendants of the latter due to intense environmental selection and Relative genetic isolation. Its ancestors fully split from those of the taigrej finnek (below) about ~1800 years ago and shares the taigrej’s origins as a cattle-bison hybrid, though the last instances of bison introgression are negligibly distant. It happens to retain a few bison-like traits its cousin does not (notably muscular necks with high thoracic vertebrae, and the shape of its winter coat) due to environmental selection.

This is an extreme all-purpose type used for labor, meat, hides manure, fuel, milk, textiles from its winter coat, and occasionally riding. Shows particularly intense selection for milk production.

Stocky, long, low-slung and muscular

Fairly small.

Thick, blocky skull with a wide poll

Characteristic thick v-shaped or straight horns

The apparent hump on the back is highly arched thoracic vertebrae, which attach thick neck muscles.

Most have a short neck wattle.

Very large udders on average.

Develops a thick, curly winter coat.

Short, thick tail with very long, curly hair at the tip.

Typically docile, placid temperament

Very sure-footed.

Larger heart and lung capacity than lowland counterparts, tolerant of high elevations.

Genetically isolated kulustaig types are typically shades of black, white and grey, but most contemporary herds come in a variety of colors.

Excellent forager that tolerates nutrient-poor graze, instinctively digs through snow to access grass. Only needs minimal dietary supplementation in typical winters.

Tolerant of a wide spectrum of temperatures from about 20-80F, but suffers in very hot conditions without access to shade and cannot survive in (rare) sub-zero temperatures for long.

Meat is very lean and tough.

Taigrej Finnek, Finn native cattle.

This is the cattle type native to Finnerich. It can be considered a naturalized hybrid, derived from domesticated bison and cattle ancestors and gradually (largely unintentionally) backcrossed with cattle to create a fully fertile population. Major instances of bison introgression have been rare in most of its history since, but it occurs occasionally. The taigrej is highly valued for its strength as a pack and plow animal and its hardy, independent constitution.

This is an all-purpose type used for labor, meat, hides, manure, and milk.

Short, thick bulbous head shape

Low slung and thick-set, overall build is relatively sleek.

Fairly large and muscular.

Mid-large udders.

VERY wide poll.

The characteristic horn type is downward-curved.

Short tail with long curly hair at the tip.

Typical headstrong temperament, notably assertive towards predators when it has confidence in numbers.

Lots of color variation, though brindling is a particularly unique quality of this population.

Short winter coat.

Tolerant of the typical hot, dry summers and mild winters of its native range, though suffers in heat without access to shade and cannot withstand lasting sub-freezing temperatures.

Good forager and mostly self-sufficient when adequate pasture is accessible, but usually needs to be supplemented during winter months, will not instinctively dig through snow.

Moderately lean meat.

Tepang, Burri cattle

A broad category of cattle types from the contemporary Burri Republic, with numerous subtypes across the variable environments of its range. This one stems from a separate domestication event of aurochs than others shown here. In the Burri creation story, the first of the gods used a tepang ox to lift the land out from the ocean on its horns, and built the world atop it.

The tepang derives from an entirely separate domestication event of aurochs than the rest shown here.

This type is predominantly used for meat, hides, manure, and labor, though some tepang populations show selection for milk production.

Slight, lean looking build, but deceptively strong.

Fairly large size

Big round eyes

Delicate concave sloping face.

Characteristic forward facing horns

Narrow, pointed poll.

Long ear hair.

Most (but not all) tepang types have very small udders, owing to lesser selection for milk production by human populations with lower rates of lactase persistence

Typically docile temperament, a little skittish.

Massive variety of coat colors and patterns, impossible to determine a standard type. All-white coats with black spots around the eyes and nose are culturally favored for beauty.

Short winter coat.

Not an instinctive forager or roamer, as most populations have developed in settled conditions with limited pasture. Requires at least some dietary supplementation with feed year-round, especially during winter.

The Grajyi Steppe tepang is a significantly hardier variant of this type, which develops a thick winter coat and forages efficiently.

The meat of a healthy tepang is relatively rich and fatty.

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gremlin-girly · 5 months ago

Text

Pot

Part of the Green collection & winner of this WIP poll

Ask and ye shall recieve! Buckle up buttercups, this is my first fic of 2025.

Banner by me, made in Canva w/ Ari's pic sourced on Pinterest (very basic ik). Dividers by @/kodaswrld here

MDNI/Reblog Banners by @/saradika-graphics

Pairing: Ari Levinson x f!reader

WARNING: This fic not only contains smut but also consumption/use of marujuana. If that's not your bread and butter (or if you are a minor) please do not read. I am also not super knowledgeable on the subject... this is just my brain + google <3

Tags/warnings: SMUT, consumption/use of marujuana, p in v (wrap 👏 it 👏 up 👏), corruption kink, Innocence kink (if you squint) slight age gap (reader in their 20s Ari his 30s), praise (good girl), petnames (pretty girl, sweetheart, baby girl, baby, honey), reverse cow girl, sofa sex, vaginal fingering, teasing, soft!dom Ari, cum play, creampie, multiple orgasm

Not beta'd and I don't give permission for my work to be reposted, translated, copied or put through AI!

Summary: You go to your friend's dealer and get the deal of a lifetime.

Word count: ~3.9k

A/N: Now that we're through all those warnings; I can now formerly introduce to you the Green Collection. My first idea was actually for Jake and from there it spiralled but the majority voted Ari instead ☺️ I don't know if I should put it to a vote again or just surprise you with whose next? this has been in my brain all week and I'm on holiday Sunday (woohoo)

Oh and if you haven't seen, I've got a taglist going - just drop me a dm if you're interested! - x

Navigation | Green Collection | Ari Masterlist | Next

No names.

At least, no surnames.

That was apparently a rule of thumb when dealing with dealers. Not like you were stood outside his house (very awkwardly) or anything. Your friend gave you a thumbs up from the safety of his car.

That was the other rule of thumb; never go alone.

You grimaced at him and wiped your sweaty palms against the rough of your jeans, beginning to slowly regret ever mentioning that you wanted to try pot. Said friend in the car said they knew a guy who knew a guy who could help you out, so long as you went with them to get their pick up.

Not much could be said about Ari, other than he was a dealer. You'd asked but you'd been met with a shrug and a "he's a dealer. I get my stuff and bolt."

With your lips pursed into a thin line, you gaze up at the house. It looks inconspicuous next to the others. It's big and homey-looking with a well-kept lawn and a nice (but not expensive) car in the drive. You wonder if dealing is all he does, or maybe this is a friend's house, or perhaps it is his house but dealing is just the side gig. When the door opens you're still expecting a twenty-something year old with red rimmed eyes and a beanie opening the door, or a super scary guy decked out in tattoos. Joke's on you for making assumptions like that.

Ari is tall and muscular, taking up a good ninety-percent of the doorway with his broad shoulders. Long, brown hair fell in waves around his neck and, much like the lawn, his matching beard was thick but well-maintained and the loose light blue cotton shirt he wore complimented his eyes beautifully. You supposed he could look scary if he was angry and frowning, however, with his amused grin as he looked down at you he just looked like an over-sized teddy bear. But maybe that was the point.

"Can I help you?" He asks casually, his eyes scanning you.

"Um, I'm looking for Ari?" You can feel yourself shrink a little under his gaze, he was intimidating regardless of being teddy-bear like or not.

"That'd be me." He confirms. His blue eyes meet yours, challenging you to ask him what you're so nervous to ask.

"C-can I come in?" You stammer out quietly.

"Why?" He presses, making you squirm on the spot.

"Ah, I, erm..." you begin to panic. You can't say drugs - you'd sound stupid and what if he was secretly a cop?

Ari snorts and you look up at him with saucers for eyes. He's grinning, no laughing, at you. Your cheeks begin to burn as you pout at your feet. "You're messing with me, aren't you?"

"Very much so." He moves out of your way, letting you step through the door. "Come on in."

"Not what you were expecting?" He asks, leading you through to the kitchen where the curtains are drawn and there's multiple small bags with what looks like dried herbs inside them.

"N-no." You answer honestly. Your eyes fix onto a drawing on the fridge; a colourful child's drawing where the "people" are mostly vague shapes before looking back at the table quickly.

"At least you're honest." Ari chuckles. "This is your first pick up, I can tell. It's alright, I won't bite."

You wring your hands and wipe them onto your jeans. "Sorry."

Ari snorts again has collects two of the bigger bags and hands them over to you, watching as your carefully hide them into your purse. "Don't apologise. Do you even smoke? Or is Gabriel making you run errands for him?"

You look sheepishly at him; from what Gabriel had said, you weren't expecting this much conversation.

"I haven't tried it before and want to. Gabriel said he'd bring me when he came next."

Ari nods pulling an impressed expression, almost surprised by your naïve honesty. He picks up a small rectangular pack from the table

"Want me to show you how to roll?" He wiggles a pack between his fingers and looks at you expecting an answer.

"Um..." You shift on your feet, feeling a little out of your depth. It would be helpful to know but why would he be offering? Gabriel said it should be in and out and you can already feel your phone buzzing in your back pocket. Then again, Ari seemed nice and you couldn't deny that there was something enticing about the way he seemed to be interested in you. "Sure."

"Right answer." He winks at you and you can feel heat rush to your cheeks. "Hold out your hands."

He pulls out a paper from the pack. It's thin and almost transparent and he places it gently between your fingers so that you hold it in a v-shape, his fingers brushing against yours. He picks up an additional bag sprinkling the herby substance down the centre of the v and your nose crinkles at the smell. It's strong, too much like BO for your liking.

"Awe," Ari coos playfully at you. "It's alright, you'll get used to it."

You puff your pink cheeks in a half-pout. There's something oddly alluring to the fact he likes to try and catch you off guard, teasing and toying with you, and it annoys you that it's working for you.

With his fingers over yours he moves the edges of the paper up and down, before rolling it on itself leaving one edge sticking upwards. He moves the paper towards your lips with a curious look.

"Stick your tongue out." He murmurs and you obey without hesitation. Ari's eyebrows shoot upwards and he smirks. "Good girl."

Heat and shame wash over you as he glides the paper over your tongue and smooths the final edge flat. He inspects your handiwork before handing the blunt to you upright.

"Not bad. Consider this one on the house," He says and before you can take it he moves it out of your reach. "On one condition."

You blink at him. "Um. Okay."

"Next time Gabriel wants his pot, I want you to pick up for him again." Ari's lips tug upwards at the corners, flashing you a flirtatious smirk that makes you feel giddy.

"Sure thing." You nod clearing your throat as he walks you back to the front door. "I-It was nice to meet you."

Ari's eyes sparkle down at you as he opens the door, leaning in the doorway again as you exit. "You too. See you round, sweetheart."

You give him a nervous smile goodbye as you skitter back to Gabriel's car, feeling Ari's eyes follow you the entire way down the drive.

You see Ari again about two weeks later, when picking up Gabriel's next order as promised. The kitchen looks the same as you'd left it, the only addition a blunt that's gently billowing smoke left in an ash tray.

"Been practising?" Ari asks, taking a seat at the table.

"I - yeah!" You get a little too excited and clear your throat adding a quieter "Yeah."

Ari seems happy to see you so enthusiastic and drags the chair next to him out from under the table, patting the wooden seat. "Take a seat and show me."

You're aware of how close you are to Ari when your knee brushes against his and you fight to stay calm. He hands you the papers and watches closely as you pepper in the weed between the paper folded in your small hands; so careful not to spill a single stem. Then you roll tentatively, like he'd shown you before, peeking up at him as your tongue drags along one edge of the paper. The chair creaks as Ari's hand tightens it's grip and you hear his breathing stop for just a second. For a moment, you think you've done it wrong as you seal the blunt over but Ari breaks out into a grin, releasing the back of your chair and letting his hands slap against his thighs.

"You've learnt quickly sweetheart." He sighs, picking up his discarded blunt and taking a quick drag.

"Can I keep this one too?" You ask curiously, admiring you're work as Ari begins to sort through the stems on the table in front of him. His blunt hangs out of the corner of his mouth and his eye brows raise in your direction. The term smoking hot was never more accurate.

"What are you gonna give me for it?"

It's a loaded question and you both know it. Heat grows between your legs and you shift in your seat next to him.

"What... do you want?"

"Ah. Ah. I asked first." He tuts, winking at you. You shift your legs again.

"W-well." You clear your throat, feeling hot all over. "I don't think I'm smoking my joints right - I'm not getting the feelings that Gabi describes."

You peek up at him, feeling stupidly bashful and naïve for even thinking of asking him this, but the rush of being around him is too addictive. Ari's eyes don't leave yours, patiently waiting for you to continue.

"So I was wondering if you'd show me how?" You ask with soft pleading eyes, adding a hasty; "Please?"

"You wanna rent me?" Ari chuckles, looking over at you as he puffs out a cloud of smoke. "Whore me out?"

You fight a blush even though you don't find the idea unappealing. "N-not what I meant."

"Tell you what, since you asked so nicely," he sighs, running a large hand through his hair. "I'll take you up on that if-"

He pauses, setting his wrist down on the table with the blunt still smoking between his fingers, turning to face you fully. "You kiss me."

Now your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, lips parting slightly as if you can't believe your ears or your luck.

"O-Okay." You wet your lips nervously, leaning closer to his face. Your eyes drop to his lips for a brief moment before you push forward, colliding your lips against his. Beard scruff brushes your cheeks and your lips tingle and soon enough there's a large, warm palm on your neck that eases you closer against his body. You relax enough to open your lips wider, letting Ari run his tongue over your lips before he slips into your mouth. He tastes like smoke and temptation and you hum happily into his mouth, letting your lips move against his.

Your hands find perch on the thigh closest to you as you lean into the kiss, the tough muscle beneath your palms flexing under the material of his jeans. Ari's palm cups your cheek, his thumb brushing the faint curve tenderly as he kisses you, sending your brain and pussy feral. By the time you remember to breathe again, you're already light headed.

"It's yours." Ari's voice is thick and he takes another drag. He blows out the smoke long and slow, his blue eyes peeking at you and how you're watching him like a hawk, waiting for him to do something more to you. "I'll show you how to smoke next time and make sure you have the high of a lifetime."

"Thanks." You puff, leaning back and removing your hands from his leg.

"No more waiting on Gabriel either - I'll give you my number." With the blunt hanging from his lips Ari holds out a palm for your phone which you willingly give, you stomach swooping with excitement. "I'll text you when I'm free."

You can't contain the small smile that graces your swollen lips. This whole game of coy cat-and-mouse had you ready to jump his bones from the moment you met and the longer it continued the more you were struggling to keep cool.

You were so glad Gabriel had such a hot dealer to introduce you to.

The next time you see Ari is the following week.

You didn't want to seem too desperate texting him too soon but you couldn't stop thinking about your brief, but seemingly eons long, make out session. Luckily, Ari texted you first after three days inviting you over whenever you wanted for your smoking lesson, but due to work commitments, you had to postpone until the Friday.

Knowing you probably wouldn't just be smoking, you opted to wear some light make up and your lucky thong; paired only with a tank top and a short skirt. If the last two visits were anything to go by, you weren't sure how long your outfit would stay on.

The Uber to Ari's was silent, your head already spinning and you gripped the handles of your back pack filled to the brim with snacks. You hadn't wanted to come empty handed when he was still technically doing you a favour.

Even if he was going to fuck your brains out regardless.

You were less awkward now as you stood outside Ari's door and far more nervous. The cool air kissed your legs and your pussy fluttered with each passing thought of Ari's wandering lips and hands and if he'd tease you in more ways than one tonight or purposefully make you wait - or beg - for him to ruin you.

When Ari finally opens the door, he almost does a double take. His eyes are glued to the hem of your skirt, showing off the tops of your thighs. You can't complain, your eyes are glued to his body too; his tight white t-shirt that wraps around each muscle and his grey sweatpants that have a definite outline of his cock.

You swallow your drool and clear your throat. Ari blinks back to life and grins at you.

"You look good," he says stepping aside to let you through. You edge past him and peek up to smile coyly.

"Thanks."

"I've set up on the sofa. You want anything to drink?" Ari asks, closing the door and locking it behind him, following you through to the living room. "You can drop your stuff wherever."

"Um, no. I'm good, thanks." You drop your bag at your feet. You're back to standing awkwardly again, playing with the hem of your skirt, trying to think of how to start.

Ari walks past you to his sofa and throws himself back into a relaxed position, his eyes never leaving yours; his long legs spread open wide. As he'd said, there's a lighter, some papers, an ashtray and a small bag of pre-ground pot lined up next to him.

Ready for you.

"Alright then, let's get started." He says voice low, patting one of his thighs. "C'mere pretty girl. Show me what you've learned."

You inch towards him, letting his hands find your hips and guide you backwards onto his lap. His hands are warm as they run over your skirt, nudging your legs to straddle over his knees, spreading you open to the living room before you. You gasp quietly, shifting against his large, hard cock against your ass as Ari pulls you backwards, pressing your back into his firm chest. Your heart beats so fast it's almost non-existent; you'd wanted to be ruined and it looked like Ari had been on the same wavelength too. You can feel your pussy gush with need as you try to keep your breathing steady when the small baggy and papers are waved in front of your face.

"Roll us a joint, baby." Ari purrs, his breath fanning against your neck, making you shiver. Blushing, you take the weed and papers, balancing them precariously in your lap as you make up the joint and letting Ari's hands run up and down the expanse of your thighs with ghost-like touches.

"You're so good at that now." He praises, his chin digs a little into your shoulder as he watches you roll the joint. "Such a fast learner."

"Mm." You hum, jumping when his fingers dip under your hem and trace patterns against your inner thigh. Your clit throbs as Ari chuckles, his fingers inching higher but stopping before they're right where you want them to be. "Had a good teacher."

"Stop rolling." Ari commands gently, and you turn to look at him ready to stick your tongue out.

"Ah-ah." Ari shakes his head with a smirk. "I'm not gonna seal it with that. Not when I have you sitting in my lap like this."

Before you can ask what he means, his fingers dip under the material of your thong and run the length of your already-silky folds making you stiffen and bite down onto your lips to keep a pornographic moan from spilling out. Your walls pulse as Ari's nimble fingers work at your clit gathering more of your arousal before removing them entirely, leaving you to whimper pathetically at the loss.

He runs his wet fingers along the bare edge of the joint before cleaning them up with swift licks of his tongue.

"That's the good stuff," he rumbles. "Seal it over."

You do as he says, your brain clouding with lust as his other hand squeezes your thigh like a brand.

"Put it in my mouth, honey." Ari parts his lips for you to gently place the joint between his lips. The lighter flickers to life with one firm stroke from Ari's thumb and he raises it to the end of the joint, taking two quick inhales until the embers glow before tossing the lighter aside again.

You watch closely as he takes a long drag, moving the joint between his fingers as he swallows the smoke and then blows out two smoke rings. You squint at the sting of the smoke but can still make out Ari's smirk.

"Tastes fuckin' good." He teases, making your cheeks go more red. "Go on, take a hit."

He holds the blunt to your lips and you tentatively take a drag, coughing a little as you try to mimic him swallowing the smoke. Ari snorts at your attempt and kisses your nose, making your heart flutter incessantly.

"Good but you can do better." He holds the blunt steady for you. "I want you to take some long drags while I fuck your sweet little pussy okay? Long drags - and hold that smoke for five seconds each time."

You gasp at his words and nod firmly, taking the blunt end between your lips as Ari reaches under you to pull his cock free of his sweats. You can feel the a delicious squeeze around nothing as Ari runs the tip of his cock over the flimsy material of your thong before yanking it to the side. His cock is as big as you'd seen through his sweats, but there's a scalding heat to it as he taps the head against your clit, making you almost whine out your exhale of smoke one two seconds too early.

"Now, to me." He leans over your shoulder, lips parted and you immediately let him him take a drag of the joint. He shifts you in his lap, sighing out his smoke as he slides his cock into you, impaling you onto him. His hands hold your hips in place as he leans back into the pliant leather, groaning loudly as your walls clench around him to accommodate to his size.

"Shit, baby girl," he huffs. "You're fuckin' perfect."

You puff out what little smoke you managed to breathe in, moaning loudly instead as Ari bounces you on his cock. You're leaning back enough to be able to see exactly what he's doing; ramming his cock so far into your pussy his balls smack against you. Your toes curl and your thighs start to strain under the pressure of being stretched wide over his legs.

You try to take more drags but you're interrupted by your own moans and the mess Ari is making of your pussy already. Your walls milk his hard cock and you could swear for a second you saw stars as a familiar tightening in your abdomen signals a fast-approaching orgasm.

"Ari," you pant squeak his name as your pussy clamps around him, the wet sounds becoming louder and louder. "I think- hng - I think I'm gonna cum."

"I know sweetheart, I can feel that tight pussy squeezing me." Ari's fingers press into your hips as his pace continues, a loud groan erupting from his throat. "Take another drag for me first."

You suck on the joint hanging loosely between your fingers, taking a long gulp of smoke.

"Look at me." Ari growls out, a hand sneaking further around your waist and lower. As your eyes lock with his, his fingers find your clit, sending sparks across every nerve in your body. A smug grin crosses Ari's face as your eyes flutter and a moan rumbles in your chest before giving you another command, "Blow."

You breathe out the smoke into his face as he breathes it in, your eyes drooping to half-lidded pleasure.

"You look so beautiful doing that." He snatches the joint away from your loose hands and presses it into the ashtray, despite there being plenty left. He catches your curious look and smiles. "I need to focus on you, honey and I don't need you dropping your hard work."

Ari's fingers find your clit again, drawing tight circles as he fucks up into your tight hole. Your pussy spasms and you moan, your arms reaching for something - anything - to keep you steady as he fucks into you harder. The slapping sounds that echo around the room are drowned by your curses and groans as your second orgasm draws closer.

"You're doing so good for me, sweetheart." Ari murmurs into your ear. "Just knew I'd like you. 'M gonna enjoy having you around to fuck and fill-" Ari's words are cut off by a short grunt, followed closely by quick gasps for air as he cums inside your shuddering pussy. You follow suit, heaving for breaths as you gush over his cock again.

"Stay right there," He urges softly, pulling you against his chest. Slipping his softening cock from you and placing kisses against your neck, he murmurs "I'm not quite done with you yet."

One had runs fingers along your slit, jumping between teasing your oversensitive nerves to pushing his cum back into your leaking hole. With his other, he hands you the lighter before picking up the blunt again and holding it to you to light for him. Your hands shake as you reach over to light it, your poor legs convulsing over his as he strums your messy cunt without a care in the world.

"That's my good girl." Ari presses feather-light kisses against your shoulder and you whimper, trying to focus on lighting the lighter. You flick at the metal furiously and on your fourth attempt, a flame flickers to life and Ari lights his joint in the flame before taking a long drag and blowing the smoke away from your face. He looks like a dragon hoarding his treasure; smoke billowing from him as you turn in his lap and bundle closer, dripping all over him.

Ari watches you with a warm grin plastered to his face, his eyes are glassy, red rimmed and a little puffy as he offers you a drag. It's a small drag, no coughing or sputtering this time, but the weed seems to be taking effect because your body sways and you can't stop smiling up at him. Ari only laughs and urges you to lie further on top of him, running a large warm hand up and down the length of your back.

"You should wear skirts more often, sweetheart." He rumbles, taking another drag, his softening cock twitches against your bare pussy and you sigh with delight. "Although, this one might be ruined by the time I'm finished with you."

End

#gremlin girly #gremlin girly writes #ari levinson x y/n #ari levinson x reader #ari x reader #ari levinson #ari levinson x f!reader #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson smut #green collection #chris evans characters

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avastrasposts · 2 months ago

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Javi steals your lunch

@sin-djarin made a fun little poll about what Pedro boy would be most likely to steal your lunch. I reblogged it with a thought about Javi P stealing the lunch and it turned into a whole fic idea so here's 800 words about Javi stealing your lunch and paying for it.

“I can’t fucking believe it….” you muttered under your breath, scanning the shelves in the break room fridge. Your carefully prepared salad, grilled chicken, avocado, fresh tomatoes and quesito colombiano your sweet next door neighbor had given you, was gone.

Vanished.

The spot in the fridge where you’d placed the tupperware this morning as you came into the office was empty. As were the other shelves, only a few leftover beers from an office party and some milk for the coffee.

“Anna, have you seen my salad? Or seen anyone eating a salad?”

Your co-worker had come in behind you, holding her own sandwich, and you sighed again as she peered into the fridge.

“No, did someone take it? I swear this fridge is never safe to leave food in, someone always steals it,” she said, shaking her head.

“We work at the damn US Embassy, you’d think people would be honest enough to not steal a salad,” you grumbled, slamming the fridge door shut, “I’m going out to grab something for lunch, I’ll see you later.”

One sad lunch hour later, you came back to your desk still in a foul mood. It wasn’t lifted by the fact that you had a mountain of work to go through as a result of a successful raid the day before. Always endless red tape and transcribing to do when the DEA team caught up with one of Pablo Escobar’s sicarios. You dreaded the day they actually caught Escobar, you’d be drowning in paperwork.

The afternoon dragged along and at five you stretched your back and headed for the coffee machine, you had just turned the corner when you saw it.

Your tupperware.

On Javier fucking Peña’s fucking desk…

You felt your temper rise as you stalked over to it and snatched it off the desk. The man himself was nowhere in sight, but he’d clearly been enjoying your salad, a fork sat on top and a few sad lettuce leaves remained.

“Fucking asshole!” you snarled to the nearly empty office, but no one paid any attention to your mutterings. With a firm grip on the tupperware, you went back to the break room and washed the box out, still fuming as you tossed the dish cloth on the counter.

“Cariño, why the frown?”

You spun on your heel and glared at the man casually leaning against the door frame with a crooked smile, an unlit cigarette dangling from his fingers.

“You!” you snapped, waving the empty, and now clean, tupperware at him, “You stole my lunch, asshole!”

He did have the decency to look a little bit ashamed, those stupid baby cow eyes widening as the smile slipped from his lips.

“Cariño…that was yours? I thought it was leftovers and I was so damn hungry…”

“It was my leftovers, Peña! My leftovers!”

You shoved passed him, attempting to push him aside as you squeezed through half the door frame, the other half blocked by him, but you were just met with a solid shoulder under his black leather jacket.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking, I got back from this thing and I was getting milk for the coffee and it just looked so good.”

He was following you down the hallway now, reached out and took hold of your arm, gently forcing you to stop just outside the evidence room.

“Hermosa….” he cooed, letting his hand slip down your arm so that he could take yours and put it against his chest in a pleading gesture, “Don’t be mad at me, I’m really sorry, and the salad was delicious. I had no idea you were such a good cook.”

He had you backed up against the wall, standing close enough so that you could smell the cigarettes and coffee on his breath, warm aftershave and the faint smell of sweat after a long day. It was impossible to not look up into his warm, brown eyes, eyebrows pulled together as he pleaded with you to forgive him.

“It’s a salad, not exactly difficult,” you replied, fighting to keep the scowl on your face as the corner of his lips pulled up into a smile, his hand closing a little bit tighter around yours. He knew he'd won you over as he tilted his head to the side and let his gaze drop down to your lips.

“Still, I should make it up to you somehow…” he said, and you’re not sure how he did it, but somehow he’d opened the door to the evidence room and pulled you inside, his arm slipping down to curl around your waist as he shut you both in with the other.

“Peña…” you said, trying to collect your thoughts, but it came out breathless as your anger at him melted away with every slow caress of his large hand over your back.

“Javi,” he mumbled, leaning down close to your neck and placing a feather light kiss just under your ear, “it’s Javi while I fuck you.”

#pedro pascal #javier peña #javier peña fic #short story #narcos

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pogbur · 10 days ago

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i'm finally fixing up my blog, so

credits for the headers are in the description on the screenshots. the usernames are just alt blogs i own, im not changing my username.

tagging some mutuals so this actually gets a few votes

@mr-s33k @cow-war-u @antlover89 @wolpatinga @bloodofghostbur @livingmiceonvenus @thinkingabout-girls

im gonna do another poll after this one ends for the title. ill tag everyone above for that too unless you ask not to be tagged. you can ask to be tagged if you havent already also (i dont know why you would want to be but go off i guess. im not complaining)

#fun fact ivan the terrible and his son ivan is my favorite painting

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heartfullofleeches · 2 months ago

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hypothetical blood red milk obsessed cow hybrid yan gender poll

#yandere poll

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irelandseyeonmythology · 5 months ago

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Mizenhead, Co. Cork.

Photos mine

(Mythological commentary under the readmore)

I was able to take these pictures and train as a Celticist because of the passion and dedication of my mentors and colleagues in my MA department. If you enjoy these photos, please consider signing this petition to save the Bachelor Celtic at Utrecht, which is still taking signatures.

This was...probably a more difficult entry to make than I thought it would be. I know people probably voted for it on the idea of 'R loves Bres and R loves Balor, so this should be an easy post for them to make!' But it's...almost specifically BECAUSE I'm so emotionally invested that I struggle to make it. Are people looking for an academic, objective account for this? Are they looking for pretty photos? Both? Yes? No?

But...well. You all voted for this in a poll posted by me, knowing my interests, so you knew this wasn't going to be 100% objective, either. So...let's get into it.

When I visited Mizenhead, it was the culmination of over a decade of dreaming of getting to see it in person.

Many Americans, when they go to Ireland, have a certain idea of what they want to see, what they want to do. This can range from the Book of Kells to Irish run breweries to the Blarney Stone to the Cliffs of Moher to half-forgotten familial holdings to Cong, where The Quiet Man (starring John Wayne and Maureen O'Hara) was shot (sidenote: that village is also close to where the First Battle of Magh Tuireadh, ie Cath Muighe Tuireadh Cunga, took place.) For me, when I first got off the plane to Ireland, I knew that this was a site that I desperately *needed* to see (besides, of course, my uni), and that was Mizenhead. In the old days, of course, it wasn't called Mizenhead, it was called Carn uí Néit, or "The Gravesite of the Grandson/Descendant of Nét" (the 't' was softened to a 'd' as time went on, leading to its modern form of Carn uí Néid.) Sometimes, I still forget to call it by its more well known anglicized name, meaning that I'm constantly having to clarify, because that's the name I heard first, and it's the name that rings truest to me.

According to the Dindshenchas of Cairn uí Néit, written the better part of a millennium ago c, this was the spot where Bres Mac Elatha died at the hands of his rival, Lugh, being tricked under geas to swallow over 300 vats of bog water, in the guise of milk.

A dindshenchas poem details the most well-known story associated with the site, as it was known in the Middle Ages (translated, in a style a little too flowery for my taste, by Edward Gwynn, but, if I want to be honest, it has taken me too long to get this out as it is and I know that if I translate the entire thing, it will NEVER get done) :

[...]

6. Bress, a kindly friend was he, (he was a good friend) noble he was and fortunate, ornament of the host, with visage never woeful, of the Tuath De he was the flower. (Note: the BEST, what were you DOING Gwynn, lay off the medieval chivalry)

7. The drink of a hundred for each roof-tree was brought to the chieftain without fail, of the milk of dun-hued kine: he suffered from that fare.

8. In the reign of Nechtan bass-chain, of dear fame, of enduring purpose, at the cost of the King of the two Munsters, occurred the cause of the enduring name.

10. The kine of every townland in Munster — lasting harm! — by Nechtan's orders were singed, over ferns, till they were black of hue.

11. A mess of ashes was smeared by the noted men of cunning on the kine famed for fatness [...]

12. They fashioned stout kine of wood — that whole host noble and slender: Lug, who was dutiful on all occasions, chose them and brought them together.

13. Pails in their forks were set with cheerful nimbleness; red stuff, with no bright shining fatness, that is the milk that filled them.

14. Three hundred, that was their number on the road to that gathering: at this contest, through his cheating illusion, there was not a cow of these kine alive.

15. Bress, hot of valour, came to the middle of the field to judge them: thereby, without prosperous issue, he perished and died.

16. From the drove were measured three hundred measures, bitter-harsh, for the spear-attended king to drink: it was a preparation of ill-presage.

17. Bress had a vow not to refuse any feat that was offered him: he drank it off without flinching: I know not what it brings.

18. At the Carn of radiant Ua Neit it killed the stern scion, when he had drunk without dread a draught of the dark ruddy liquor

19. By reason of this unfair demand, without due observance since the failure of his vow, without rightful and seemly honour the grave of Bress covers him.

Stokes provided an edition and translation of the prose version from the Rennes Dindshenchas:

Then Bres came to inspect the manner of these cattle and so that they might be milked in his présence, and Cian (Lugh's father) was also among them. Ail the bogstuff they had was squeezed out as if it was milk of which they were milked. The Irish were under a tabu to corne thither at the same time, and Bres was under a tabu to drink what should be- milked there.

So three hundred bucketfuls of red bogstuff are milked for him, and he drinks it. Some say that he was seven days and seven mouths and seven years wasting away because of it, and he traversed Erin seeking a cure till he reached the same cairn, and there he died. Whence Carn uí Néit is named.

In other texts, the owner of the grave is changed: In the Early Modern recension of CMT, Cath Muighe Turieadh, it is actually Balor's death site, not Bres', Lug hunting his grandfather across Ireland until they have their fatal showdown there. John Carey, in "Myth and Mythography in Cath Maige Tuired", has argued that the attribution of this site to Bres was actually after the fact, with the attribution to Balor being the earlier of the two. On the record, I agree, on the basis that (1) Bres' usual haunt is Maginnis, in what is now Lecale, Co. Down and (2) Balor is consistently referred to as "Uí"/"Ua Néit", unlike Bres who, outside of this poem, is generally referred to purely as "Mac Elathan."

Generally speaking, Bres is not the figure from Cath Maige Tuired that most academics will say that they like, when they'll admit that they *can* like any of the characters, beyond a detached sense of general interest. The boisterous Dagda, the haunted and embattled Nuada, the exemplary Lug all gather far more positive reactions. On an anecdotal note, though, I've had a number of overwhelmingly queer people, usually in their late teens or twenties, approach me over my time doing this, and tell me how important Bres was to them, how interesting. Bres taps into something that, perhaps, many older academics, who are used to the rigid structures of academia, do not want to acknowledge: a willingness to defy society, to rebel, to question. The feeling of being torn apart by competing forces, of being conflicted, of being frightened and lonely. The feeling of being watched, of being judged, of being a player in a game by much older, much more experienced people, but still trying to play it anyway, even if he flounders in his execution. Because the truth is that Lug is easy to like, particularly in Cath Maige Tuired where he's at his least manipulative. He can do everything! He unifies people! He's charismatic! He's dutiful! He does everything exactly as he's supposed to and, as a result, has all the emotional depth of a thimble. (I like him best when he's taking bloody revenge, when the mask of the ideal hero comes off and he's allowed to be a little bit messy.) With Bres, there is no illusion that he's perfect, that he's flawless. No one finishes reading CMT and thinks that, really, it would have been better off for everyone if Bres had won. Not many of us can be Lug, but all of us have been Bres at one point or another, the question is simply whether we want to admit to it. All of us have fallen short, at some point or another, all of us have disappointed someone, including, at times, ourselves. All of us have watched as someone came onboard -- maybe they were younger, better with people, more competent, naturally talented, and left us in the dust. It's why people come away from Amadeus sympathizing with Salieri, because, at some point in our lives, we all venerate the Patron Saint of Mediocrity.

In an academic environment, I'm often asked why I'm so drawn to Bres. The truth is that there are very few academic explanations that can fully explain it. The answers that I give -- the complexity of his character, the insight he can give as an antisocial character, the parallels he has to Lug and to the broader world of the Tuatha Dé -- are not lies, but they can't fully capture the reality, either. In truth, the relationship I have with Bres isn't devotion, not in a religious sense, at least, but it is the sort of pure bond you can only form with something when you're a teenager, grasping for a piece of driftwood to cling onto through the waves of adolescence. He's been with me every single step of the way, in all his flaws and all his thoughtlessness, his melodrama, his rashness. He tells me that sometimes, I don't need to be perfect, I just need to survive. What it means to embrace liminality, even when society demands that we be boxed into neat little categories. He saved my life. In many ways, he gave me a life worth living. And, in turn, I crossed an ocean for him. I faced down a pandemic for him. I faced down hell for him. All to stand at his gravesite. I don't know if my pagan friends are right and that the Tuatha Dé's presences still linger in Ireland; I've never seen any cause to believe it, but, frankly, I've studied them long enough to know not to tempt fate on that score. I don't know if there ever is or was any trace of the man who I've spent so long studying that still lingers. I don't even know if anyone else ever stood by that cliff, looking down in the cobalt blue waters, the white tipped waves crashing against the rocks that jut out from Manannan's kingdom, and took a moment to think of him. Or what thoughts emigrants might have thought as they left in ships and, all too often, never saw their home country again, the grasping rock their last sight of their country. But I do know that on one autumn day, an American international student stood there and finally, finally took the chance to thank him for everything he'd done and to tell him that it was enough.

#county cork #mizenhead #ireland #ireland photo #ireland photography #eire #irish trip #travel #irish mythology #celtic mythology #mythological cycle #bres mac elathan #balor uí néit

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