#rosy enrichment

[paintingtherosypicture]

Pink Rose Flowers Diamond Painting Red Rose Round Full Drill Embroidery Bunch Flowers Cross Stitch

[alltherosefamily]

English Rose Additions to my Cottage Garden - by Pamela Groppe

I have coveted Olivia Austin DAR roses since they first came out and the many rose loving friends I follow on Instagram have been sharing theirs during summers and I had to have her.

Olivia Rose Austin DAR

She is a shorter growing rose so perfect in my Secret Garden in an island bed.  She won’t grow tall enough to block the view of other flowers growing beyond her.

[revvethasmythh]

I love it when durge gets this one particular expression on their face and you just know you're gonna do something fucked up in T-minus 10 seconds. I have lovingly dubbed it The Grinch Face™️

[rosenbergamot]

thinking ab goodtimeswithscar again. a man of so many masks, all with the same charismatic smile. a man who underneath those masks is so dedicated and loving and lonely and petty and chaotic and silly that it cant be contained. a man who watches and blends in and smiles and laughs, because thats the way hes learned to survive. a man who loves so much and so deeply and loyally that it kills him. a man who, when he stops loving like that, ends up winning his series. a man who is defined by trickster status but wants nothing more than to be defined by the friends he keeps. a man who fights against the want to love people and the want to survive. a man whose every interaction is transactional. a man who sells everything, his heart his soul his bones his blood, just to live another day.

[littlecornerinbrooklyn]

there was a hawkfish at the store I pet store I worked at that had been there for 5+ years and the head of the department and I were having a conversation about how glibly people will speak about the fish that have died in their care (it was so common to have a parent come in and "replace" all the pleco's because they messed up while cleaning the tank and the kids due home from school in a few hours) and what kind of policy we could potentially have to educate and curb the idea that we would just keep supplying new fish when there was clearly a lack of willingness to change behaviors (like the same people would come in over and over and laugh about "accidentally" killing another beta fish and it's like maybe don't say that so loudly and unashamedly in the place you're coming to get another one) anyway the guy pointed to the hawkfish and reminded me that the fish was smarter than any of the other pets in the store but because we couldn't hear it speak we didn't honor it's intelligence and i just think about fish and their lives a lot differently after that

[dutybcrne]

Never will stop laughing at the idea of everyone praising Kae for being such an efficient knight, yet this guy canonically keeps tabs on SO MANY bandits and mercs, all with Meticulous detail, and does NOTHING abt some of them bc things would get 'boring' otherwise-

[landscapesscenerypeopleplaces]

tumblr_n9n4jrP86l1t0ge0qo1_1280

[percysheliey]

ummmmm guess who just bought 12 holly warburton postcards ….

[daisyofwaterdeep]

Just gonna start of saying I LOVE your drabbles - especially big fan of what you’ve written about Gortash as of recently :D could I humbly request your thoughts on how Gortash might try to win over a particularly stubborn (gn) tav/durge? Perhaps with some… questionable consent towards his methods 😌

Gortash/Reader (reader is gender neutral with a vagina) Tags: NSFW, dry humping, dubcon, manipulation, fingering TW: sexual assault, noncon, sexual violence, kidnapping, descriptions of violence and gore, object insertion

A/N: kinda went ham on this one...please be mindful of the tags!

'Conquest'

Gortash had handpicked you as his assistant. As soon as he saw you, some nobody helping with the armory in Wyrm's Rock, he gestured to his advisor and demanded to have you brought in for briefing.

At first it was based solely on your looks--having an attractive assistant around to fuck on a whim would be great for stress relief. But as he watches you, he detects a defiant shine in your eyes, a sort of "just try to mess with me" sort of attitude in the way you carry yourself that draws him in.

As he sits you down and informs you of your new post, he gets a better reading on you. You're guarded, surprisingly so, and even as he offers you a pay raise for a far less cumbersome job, you don't look at him with gratitude-- only caution.

Most wouldn't hesitate to blubber out thanks and praises at such an opportunity, but you...you seem to know that there's a catch. That nice things don't just fall into one's lap. He likes that cleverness about you.

As much as Gortash enjoys an easy lay, this is far more fun. Like sexual enrichment-- working for his reward.

It's going to be a challenge and a delight to fuck you.

~~~

Gortash lets you settle into your job before making a move. Nearly a month passes before he decides it's time to test the waters.

You approach him as he's reading over a letter at his desk.

"I'll be heading home soon. Is there anything you need before I go?"

He hums to himself, pretending to think as he sets the paper to the side and leans back in his chair. "Hmm, no, nothing comes to mind." He stops, gives a short laugh, then adds, "Well, a blowjob wouldn't be remiss."

The look you give him is adorable. Pretty lips parted, eyes wide, and an almost immediate pinkening of your cheeks. Gortash wishes he could get your expression painted so he could enjoy it at his leisure.

"I--" Your lips move soundlessly for a moment before finding your voice. "I c-could see if Sharess' Caress makes house visits."

Gortash waves his hand in the air and laughs again. "That was a tasteless joke, my apologies." He gets up from his chair, stretching his back out with a small grunt, "However, I do appreciate the lengths you would go to for my sake."

You incline your head politely, cheeks still rosy. "Of course."

"But I will say, if you ever decide to treat me to a bit of...stress relief, I'd rather it be sourced from within the fortress." He holds his hands out in a grand gesture, "I have a reputation to uphold, after all."

You shuffle on your feet, "Makes sense...I'll keep it in mind."

"Wonderful." He mirrors you with a polite head nod of his own. "Now, don't let me keep you. Go enjoy the rest of your day."

As soon as you leave, Gortash's shoulders slump and he holds onto the back of his chair. Damn. Part of him was really hoping that would work. It would have been too easy of a victory, sure, but also.... a blowjob really does sound quite nice right now.

~~~

"Are you finished with these?" you gesture at the stack of books perched on the edge of Gortash's desk.

He looks up for only a moment to cofirm before going back to his work, "Yes, you can put those away."

He move his arm out of the way as you pick up the massive stack and begin carefully navigating to the bookshelf across the room.

The quiet shuffle of you putting them away and the scratch of his quill on parchment fills the room for a time, but when you let out a soft noise, he can't help but divert his attention.

There you are, on the tips of your toes, pressed against the shelf, trying to slide a book into it's high home but failing by a whole inch.

Gortash is out of his chair and slinking up behind you before he can think better of it. And when he does have a chance to think, he's already looming behind you, close enough to smell the shampoo in your hair. He decides that this is a good idea, actually. He had dipped his toe into the waters last time and nothing came of it, so maybe it's time to really jump in. He tells himself that it's merely seizing an opportunity for his overall plan--his overly eager and half hard cock has nothing to do with it.

You squeak as he presses up against you, outstretched arm beginning to come down, but Gortash is quick to grab your hand and brings the book back up. He slides it into place easily, then lets the tips of his gauntlet graze down the length of your arm before moving his mouth near your ear.

"It looked as if you needed some help."

The near whisper of his voice ghosting along your skin gives you a shiver, one that Gortash can feel run through your entire body.

"L...Lord Gortash?"

Your voice matches the same quiet of his own--it's nervous, yes, but still private, confidential. You aren't necessarily trying to stop him from what he's doing.

And if you aren't going to stop him, then he sure as all the hells is going to continue.

He lets out a soft, satisfied breath against your cheek as he presses his hips more firmly against your ass, knowing full well that you can feel the stiffness of his cock. You let out a small gasp but otherwise stay still, so Gortash indulges further, his hands dropping to your hips and he sets into a slow, deliberate grind.

He wonders what's going through that pretty head of yours right now. Are you scared you'll lose your job if you stop him? Are you surprised that he wants you? Have you been waiting for him to make a move like this? Are you disgusted, infuriated, turned on? The thoughts crowd his mind as the deliciously inadequate friction has his cock throbbing, his lips brushing over the curve of your neck in something nearing a kiss.

If he takes it further, what will you do? Will you push your ass back into him, begging to be taken? Or will you finally find your voice and demand for him to stop?

Gortash brings his hands forward, fingers already finding the cool metal of your belt buckle, enraptured by the flutter of the tendon in your neck, cock jerking and sticky as precum oozes and smears in his pants--

A knock comes at the door.

In an instant Gortash is two paces away from you, falling easily back into his airy persona just as the door opens and a worker comes in. He shoots a look at you, still standing where he left you but pretending to straighten the books with stiff, jittering movements. He silently applauds your efforts as the worker approaches with a small bow.

"My lord, your guests have arrived."

Damnit. He had completely forgotten about his afternoon meeting. Part of him-- a very hard, throbbing part-- considers postponing, if only for 15 minutes.

But of course he can't do that.

With his blood still running hot, Gortash follows the worker out of his study and into the hall, mentally cursing the inopportune timing all the while.

~~~~

He needs to rethink his strategy.

A night of cooling off and masturbating has allowed him to think more clearly. The stunt he had pulled was fun, sure, but it's not what he wanted.

A few glasses of wine and some brainstorming through the night finally led him to what he does want-- for you to fall for him. For you to be grateful for his touch. He wants you to feel downright terrible for just how bad you want him. No, no want. Need. And he's concocted the perfect scenario for such a thing. It'll take a bit of elbow grease and careful planning, but that's where he really excels.

The first step of his plan starts as soon as you come in for your daily duties. He's usually already nose-deep in work when you arrive, but today he's standing by with a smile, waiting for you.

"Ah, perfect timing." He raises a finger and dabs it at you, putting on a charming smile. "We need to talk before you go about your duties."

You don't look particularly thrilled with the idea, but your face says that you expected as much. It's time for him to put on his show.

His smile falls with his voice, "I apologize for what happened yesterday. It was entirely inappropriate." He lets a soft edge of weariness creep into his words as he holds out his hands, "I'm tired. Overworked. And I admit that I've grown used to relying on you in stressful times such as these." He waves his hand and furrows his brow, "But that's no excuse to do such a thing to you." And now, a sorrowful expression paired with a gold-gilded hand over his heart. "If you would like to resign from your post, I'll ensure you are handsomely compensated. But if you stay, I can promise you, such a thing will never transpire again."

A rousing performance, he must say. Even if your face didn't betray your forgiveness-- which it does-- he knows he has you in the bag.

You shuffle on your feet, hands clasped in front of you, "I appreciate the apology."

Gortash sighs with a soft, relieved smile, eyes still trained on you as you work out your next sentence.

"I'd...like to stay."

"Thank you." He feels a predatory gleam threaten to sneak into his expression as he bows his head. "I truly don't know what I'd do without you."

Perfect. Absolutely perfect.

And now, onto the fun part.

~~~~

"Everything went according to the plan, I presume?"

"Oh yesss," The banite grins wide, his yellowed teeth as much of an affront as his breath. "Got 'em in there for ye, all nice and ready. Put up a bit uvva fight, all squawkin' and squallin' at first, but the pretty lil' thing's calmed down some." He jerks his thumb to the metal door behind him. "Been on guard duty while the other two 'ave their fun."

Gortash is grateful for the falling night that hides the darkness that crosses his own face, though his voice stays just as cordial.

"Oh? What sort of fun?"

"Just tossin' em about, really." The banite looks around the empty dock before shuffling forward, a wicked glitter in his beady eyes, "Arnie found some nice rocks-- pebbles really," The man snickers, "We've been stuffin' em up in the pretty thing. Seein' how many can fit." He puts his hands up before adding, "Ah, but no sex stuff, like ye said. Made sure all three of us kept our britches on."

"I see."

Gotash steps forward and with one swift jab of his hand upward, slices the man's carotid artery with the tip of his gauntlet. The banite sputters and clutches at his neck, hot gushes of blood spurting from between his grimy fingers as his eyes go wide and his mouth gapes wordlessly. Gortash had planned to dispose of the men when their role was through out of necessity, but now it's out of anger.

"Perhaps you'll learn to follow directions in your next life."

Gortash grabs the man by the collar--the other side, so as not to filthy his clothes with the pig's blood, and yanks him to the edge of the dock. The man's floundering and uneven footing does the rest of the work for him. A large splash in the dark of the water, a bit more struggling, then nothing but the sound of the sea.

As pissed as he is...this could work. It could work damn well, in fact. His mind is already churning, reevaluating the situation and turning this error to his advantage.

With a new plan in mind, Gortash takes in a deep breath and opens the door.

Two lanterns illuminate the warehouse, only supressing the darkness in a single corner. And there you are, only visible as a pair of bare legs on the stone floor, two men on their knees and obscuring the rest of you.

Gortash has always taken pride in the control he has over his emotions. But in this moment, he lets that control go completely.

A swift end is made of the men with a few brutal jabs of his claws. They try to stumble to their feet and grab at their weapons, but the blood pouring from their gurgling throats is too heavy of a flow, and all too soon, they collapse to the floor, dead.

With that out of the way, he finally gets a look at you. Even if he's beyond annoyed at the hunks of waste he's just disposed of, he does have to applaud them for their work. You look stunning-- Completely bare, hands tied behind your back, legs splayed open, face tear-streaked and eyes terrified. He's grateful for the terrible lighting, because his cock stiffens immediately at the sight of you.

"What happened?" Gortash falls to his knees by your side, "Are you okay?"

"Th-they," Your voice is virtually a croak, thrown out from your crying and yelling. He watches as you swallow roughly before trying to continue, "They a-ambushed me. As s-soon as I opened the door, they--"

Your words waver as despair threatens to take you once again, so Gortash leans down, snaking an arm under your back.

"It's alright darling. I'm here now." He shakes his head, "Gods, what was I thinking, sending you here alone...?"

He helps you sit up, noting the way you jolt and whimper, your legs unable to close. He hasn't dared to venture his eyes down just yet, but it seems they did a number on you.

Another slice from his gauntlet releases the rough rope that binds your hands and you bring them forward slowly, shoulder sockets seemingly tender from being forced behind you for so long. As you rub at your chafed wrists, Gortash unfastens his cumberbund and quickly shucks off his coat, draping it across you.

"Th-thank you," you sniffle, clutching the coat to your chest.

"Of course." Gortash places a gentle hand on your back, "Let's get you out of here. Are you able to walk?"

You had been slowly regaining your composure, but your face crumples at his words, fresh tears cascading down your cheeks.

"Th-they put...inside...m--"

Your sentence ends on a soft wail as you bury your face in his jacket.

"Hush now, it's alright." Gortash slides an arm under your knees and carefully picks you up, loving how you so easily wrap your arms around his neck, even as your body stiffens in discomfort. As he adjusts your weight in his hold, you gasp and he hears the distinct soft patter of a single pebble hitting the stone between his feet.

There's a large crate nearby that he gingerly perches you on the edge of. He makes sure you've got a good hold of his jacket before grabbing one of the lanterns and setting it nearby.

"I'll fetch a doctor--"

"No," You cut him off, eyes going wide as they flit over to the dark masses of the men, "P-please, don't leave me."

"Then I won't." He gently places his hands on your shoulders, forcing you to look up at him. "I won't leave, if that's what you want. But that means I'll have to care for you here."

He can see it written all over your face. The fear, the shame, the humiliation-- but also the relief. The trust. The men that had tormented you are dead and cooling in the shadows of the warehouse, and your savior is standing in front of you, eyes earnest and full of concern. He sees the way you want to tell him not to look, but also the desire to be cared for.

Gortash drives it home with a gentle smile and his soft, confident words. "You needn't worry anymore. I'm here now."

And just like that, you're his. Your bottom lip quivers but you nod shakily, raising the coat up to your mouth and spreading your legs, your knees coming out from either side of the dark fabric.

"Good," He says, voice hushed and calm even as he kneels down in front of you, his blood thundering in his veins. "As wide as you can."

With bated breath from the both of you, Gortash grabs the end of his coat and pulls it up, gently placing the length of it in your lap.

Mud is matted in your pubic hair and smeared on your inner thighs, but even still, he can smell the distinct musk of you. And with your legs wide as they are, your labia is spread, showing the soft pink folds of your vagina, also streaked with grime. His cock engorges fully as he gently grabs your thighs and pushes them open just a bit further and sees, with a rush of twisted excitement, the smooth grey surface of a pebble bulging from your entrance.

"We need to get them out." Gortash says, surprised by just how even his voice is as he slides off the fingers of his gauntlets and places them on the floor next to him. "It may hurt, but I need you to bear with me. Alright?"

Your head is like an old rusted machine, the first nod is like a lurch, then the next two come easier with use.

"Good." Gortash places one hand on your thigh to steady you and brings the other forward. "Try to stay calm."

Even though you seem desperate to obey, as soon as a finger brushes against the softness of your inner folds, your muscles flex and the pebble at your entrance sinks in deeper.

"Relax, Gortash nearly coos the word, his thumb rubbing a comforting circle into your thigh, " Relax for me, darling."

The tension in your muscles eases with small jerky jumps in between, and Gortash waits for you to let out a long, shuddering breath before trying again.

You tighten involuntarily as his fingers brush against you again, but this time, he doesn't pull back. His finger slides in next to the pebble, the juxtaposition of your soft hole and the hard rock making his head swim and his cock ache. He hooks his finger before pulling it out and the pebble, a little bigger than a grape, pops out of you and skitters onto the floor. Your pretty little hole flutters and contracts as you gasp and another pebble is immediately clogging your entrance, this one seemingly bigger.

"You poor thing," Gortash has to push the stone back into you to get his finger to fit, and he can feel it clack and scrape against the other rocks still stuffed inside you, "I know it probably hurts, but you're doing wonderful..."

He pushes the rock subtly up as he speaks, delighted at the way you whimper and bury your face into his coat as your thighs close around him. The soft meat of your entrance clenches around his finger and he softly tuts, using his free hand to spread your legs once again.

"Relax, darling, it's alright."

"S...sorry..." Your voice is muffled through his coat, but he can still hear your strain and embarassment.

"You don't have to apologize," He assures you, curving his finger around the stone, "This one might hurt, okay? So try to not to tighten if you can."

He hears you suck in a deep breath before shuddering your muscles loose. With that, he begins pulling the rock forward. It's nearly hypnotizing, seeing your tiny hole stretch tight as the slimy surface of the stone pushes up to it, against it, resisting the pressure of his finger.

"Try pushing for me," He says, breathless, "Try to relax and push."

"Ah--" The muscles in your thighs clench and you let out a strained gasp that breaks into a hurt whimper as your hole stretches more, more--

With the widest part of the stone past, the rest slides out all at once, the plum-sized rock clattering to the floor as your hole gapes open from it's size. Two more pebbles, much smaller, fall from you and join the others at his knees.

"There we go, that's it darling, shh, shh, it's alright--" He softly comforts you as you gasp and cry out soft little noises of relief.

He rests both hands on your thighs, watching as your entrance contracts with jittery clenches, a thick gush of natural juices streaked with dirt and blood leaking from your abused hole. Gods, he's half tempted to shove his cock in you-- to share that pain of heavy stones pressing against his most tender parts.

But he can't, of course. So instead, he fishes a handkerchief from his pocket and wipes at your folds. You seem to appreciate the break, sighing and relaxing as you lower the coat from your face. Good, because he'll get to see your expression for what comes next.

"We'll need to get you cleaned properly, but this will have to do for now."

He meets your eyes as he speaks, bringing his hand up and dragging the cloth slowly and deliberately over your clit.

Your eyes flutter and your mouth falls open as your thighs close around him involuntarily. It lasts for all but a moment, though, because the coat comes back up to hide your face. What a teasing little thing you are.

"Poor dear," he glides two fingers back into your entrance, feeling the grit of the dirt as he goes in deeper and you tighten. His other hand rests in his lap, as casually as he can, to subtly rub at his erection. "It'll all be over soon, so hold on for a little longer."

And it really does seem to almost be over-- the palm of his hand meets with your mound as he goes in as far as he can, fingers slipping around the last two stones. A shame, really. But he can work with this.

"They're in deep," He frowns, raising up on his knees for a better angle. "This may be difficult, darling. Just hang in there."

You peek at him from behind the jacket and nod nervously.

Gortash has to work to keep his own face straight as he slides a third finger into you, bottoming out easily with his palm pressed firmly over your clit. He pins the two stones against the roof of your cunt and lets them move and slip from his hold. He spreads his fingers inside of your to retrieve them, exploring the wet, swallowing heat of you to his pleasure. You gasp as his palm grinds against your clit, legs pressing into his sides once again.

"Almost," He breathes out, cock jerking madly against his thigh as he pushes in deeper, "It's alright, just a little more..."

Your breathing is picking up and, soft, distressed whimpers leave you with every minstration. His hand is coated in slick, it's positivley soaked as he pulls his fingers out halfway with a stone, only to 'lose' it and have to push them back in.

He knows that he's getting less subtle in his excitement, but you seem too far gone to understand that, or perhaps you don't care. Either way, the sounds you're making are becoming sweeter, more raw, and your legs are trembling as they squeeze around him. He wants to rip the jacket away from you, to see the way your chest is heaving, to get a look at the pleasure-pained face you must be making right now...but even if he's being more indulgent than he should, that would definitely blow his cover.

"Wait," You stumble out on a shaky breath, your body jerking forward and your eyes wide, "W-wait, please--!"

Your words break off in a sharp cry as your back arches and your pussy locks around his fingers, juices gushing around his intrusion and running down his forearm. Gortash lets out a small noise of his own, hopefully hidden in the throes of your orgasm, and uses the cover of your clenched eyes to fondle his leaking cock. He finds his own release a mere second later, the hot spurts of his cum soaking into his pants.

It's torturously perfect, having to keep his face as straight as possible as he's wracked with pleasure, forced to supress his shivers and shakes, even as you slowly loosen into your own.

"Gods, I'm..." Your face disappears behind his jacket again as your voice wavers, "I'm so sorry..."

"Shh, it's alright." He says in a near whisper, hoping it negates the post-climax gruffness in his voice, "It's not your fault, dear."

He easily traps the two remaing stones and gingerly extracts them, though it still makes you jerk and gasp. He notes with flared nostrils that your cunt has gotten swollen and puffy from your orgasm--looking perfectly inviting for some soft licking and sucking, though he wouldn't dare. The slick running from you seems to be clear now, the natural processes of your body clearing your passageway. You still may end up with an infection, but this will certainly help ease things.

He folds his handkerchief and dabs at your folds politely, cleaning you up as best as he can before finally standing up, his head light and his heart still pounding just as fiercely.

"Let's see if you can walk now."

He holds out a hand to you and you take it, your other arm pinning the jacket to yourself modestly. You're unsteady on your feet, but you only have to endure for a few moments as he helps you put his coat on. As soon as you're decent enough, Gortash leans you against him, a protective arm around your shoulders.

"Come, darling. Let's get out of here."

As he leads you out of the warehouse, he has to fight a devious smile as you tiredly rest your head against his arm.

[pearlwithgirl]

A Man and His Favourite Toy

Johnny ‘Soap’ MacTavish x f!reader

Fluffy smut - 1130 words

~

Some sweet Soap rambles before I go to sleep.

You’re like his favourite toy in the world.

He’s evolved in nearly every way. Lots of things are left behind, some are changed or swapped out for the better, but many simply morph.

Some things stuck around, ebbing and flowing and changing with growth - surging back tenfold when you strolled into his life.

Apples and cinnamon, steeped and stewed, gone smoky and sharp. Still comfortable, still warm - much more substance. Enrichment, nostalgia, ringing laughter.

He wants to roll and gallivant around with you until he’s dewy and ruddy-cheeked. Huffing and puffing, flopping back on soft grass or cotton-covered down to cock his head and lock heart-filled eyes.

There’s nobody to tell him he’s had his fill anymore, nobody to nag him about how he needs to share - god forbid. No chance in hell his hands could be wrenched away from you. Only you, and you’re begging, mewling softly with furrowed brows and pouty lips.

He has you clutched tight, fingertips gone white from the force of his heady desperation - cold, scuffed plastic traded up for soft, divoted flesh. He’s nearly in a trance, enthralled like he’s parked in front of a flickering screen.

You buck your hips up at him and his lashes flutter, gaze dropping down briefly. He looks back up at you with a bashful smile.

“Sorry, doll. I just like lookin’ at ya.” Johnny murmurs, eyes half-lidded. He’s so hungry.

He peels away lilac silk, patting your hip to get you to arch up, letting his touch linger before yanking your shorts off. It’s like unwrapping something sweet, tearing away crinkled foil to get to the soft centre, dripping with honey. He’ll gorge himself on you.

He licks a long stripe through your folds, drool mixing with warm nectar. A crystalline drop hangs from his pink tongue, sharp canines just above, revealed by a grin.

He’s teasing you now, but only for a moment. Only to take in that needy expression before his eyes fall shut and he goes dumb off your pussy. He gathers more of your wetness, sloppy and careless about making a mess. The messier the better, as far as he’s concerned - it’s what you deserve.

The closely shorn hair tickles your thigh as leans onto it, glassy eyes roving up your belly, past your soft tits, locking gazes again. Meeting his baby blues, you nod.

“Please.”

No need to ask twice.

Johnny drags his fingers up the rift at the junction of your thighs, spreading you open. He could crumble right then and there, could dive in and never come up to breathe. You’re glistening with mixed juices, wet and inviting.

He circles your hole and you twitch, chasing him. As if he could keep you waiting any longer when you look like that. That breath you’ve been holding is released as he dips a calloused finger into you, palm up. He twitches against his belly, whining into your pulsing cunt.

Slim hips rut into the bed, mirroring the rhythm of yours. He might end up finishing like this, cock sending copious amounts of spend onto the duvet while you throb against his greedy mouth. He’s just been waiting so long, stuck in a shitty little cabin and damned to weeks of abstinence. It’s laundry night anyway.

“I need more.” You plead.

He adds another finger - it’s not enough. You deserve everything, and he’ll start with turning you into a writhing mess.

So he leans down and seals his lips around your twitching bud, massaging that swollen pearl with a practiced tongue. He licks and suckles and sends you into a rosy-tinted haze. You can still taste the strawberries from dessert, but that’s not where the saccharinity is coming from.

You don’t even know how long he’s been at it. Neither of you do - you’re swimming in syrup. Everything could be a husk beyond the bay window, lake dried up, long turned to dust outside the rain speckled pane while the seconds on the heirloom clock ticked away and away and away - it wouldn’t even matter. There’s only one thing you two are focused on, and it’s fast approaching.

You look away from his flickering tongue, over his bobbing head, and past the rippling muscles of his shoulder. His brawny thighs are twitching, one knee braced to the side to help him cant his hips into the soft fabric.

This might be your favourite tune - the syncopated patter of tiny droplets and the lewd squelch of his crooked fingers, beckoning you forth to a steep precipice. His sounds are the best part - muffled by the heat of your cunt, reedy and wavering, pleasure-drunk. They reverberate all the way through you.

You’re ready to careen right off that ledge. You spread your trembling thighs even wider, reaching down to find his free hand, and he gladly receives it, intertwining your fingers.

He squeezes a little harder when he feels the intricately knotted silver. You got that one a day after the first time he buried his tongue in you. It’s stacked on top of a little jewelled ring - that one came after he took you to a lookoff and sunk his cock into you. He can still remember your cries of pleasure as you clung to him on a checked wool blanket, how the sun bounced off your hair as it blazed deep orange on the horizon. He was hooked.

That might be the thought that’s sending him over the edge right now. His groans send vibrations through his tongue as his brows draw together and the rhythm of his hips begins to jolt and stutter. You’re gonna fall with him.

He meets your eyes again. You know he wants to see you clearly as you suffer that little death together. You heave a great shuddering breath, exsanguinated, all your shared blood rushed down south. Your whole body tenses up, and you buck up onto his mouth as he grinds further into the bed.

Johnny grinds, and he takes and he takes until your heels are digging into the bedding, fingers curled into the stripe of hair on his head.

He pulls off of you, face glistening, tongue darting over his lips. He was always told not to be wasteful. He presses a soft kiss right above your clit and drags his tongue along the seam of your cunt once more as he rubs a soothing thumb over the back of your hand.

With one last lap of his tongue and a sloppy kiss goodbye, he parts from your pussy and crawls up to curl into your side. He gives you a kiss of your own, softening cock still twitching against your outer thigh.

He doesn’t really need to say it, to profess the shared feeling - it’s obvious. He does anyway.

“I missed you.”

[paintingtherosypicture]

Red Roses - by Yuga Kurita

[the-s1lly-corner]

Omg I'm sorry I didn't know you didn't write for more than 3 characters. I'm really sorry about asking before looking at that rule :(

If you want, you can do the request I sent you but only with Adam and Rosie (y'know, the one with the hyperactive child reader who has like super speed).

Again, I'm sorry! Have a nice day/night!-🍄

Platonic Adam and Rosie x hyper!kid!reader

It's all fine! I was already going to only take two from the four characters you asked <\3its kind of on me for making the rules/pinned post so cluttered

That aside I hope you enjoy

ADAM:

He does not do well with kids. He does not do well with hyper kids. Actually if anything he might have lute or sera keep an eye on you when he cant be bothered. I'm sure many of you may disagree or even dislike this, but Adam would probably be the type to egg a kid on when they have a really dumb idea. Or laugh when a kid falls down. I guess this dynamic is more of a babysitter/older brother and kid dynamic rather than a guardian/child one. Which is.. hm.. he would make an ipad baby/j

ROSIE:

On the flip side, rosie is actually good with kids! She makes sure you get your nutrients and your enrichment, she seems like the type to make a sensory activity for you. Will it be wholesome and not.. hell-themed? ...no... but hey the effort is still there! She does put you in time out if you're being too rowdy, though. Rosie is not afraid to discipline you or put her foot down. There will be consequences if you break the rules she has set out for you. Usually it's time out or confiscating a toy

[is-the-snake-video-cute]

Hi! I just wanted to say thank you; your compassion and understanding for people who have made husbandry mistakes but are trying to correct them is incredible and helped me a lot. I definitely made some mistakes with my rosy boa but she’s in a much better enclosure now! (And had an A+ health checkup from the vet).

Here’s the new enclosure! It’s from Animal Plastics and it’s 6x3x2 (huge upgrade from her 3x1x1 before!)

Honestly, one of the highlights of my day is checking in on her and seeing her use every inch of that space. High end gets to 86-90 directly under the CHE, low end is around 72. If you have any suggestions for improving it, I’d love to hear them!

And here’s some pictures of the lady herself.

(Nobody told her she’s a desert species)

Thanks again for everything you do! As an aspiring nature educator, your work with this blog is awesome.

---------------------------------------------

Looks awesome! I love how many varied spaces and enrichment items you’ve worked in. She’s such a cutie. :)

[rosenbergamot]

i think that grian as a tripsitter would do anything and everything he could to fuck with the people hes tripsitting.

like he spawns chickens everywhere and when ppl are like “why are there chickens?” hes like “what? what chickens? oh you must be TRIPPING tripping” he trhows eggs at them and then whistles innocently when they look back.

he pretends to be on the phone with people and goes “woah xisuma just called and he said he made a new server rule that anyone who does drugs is sent to hell forever and if he finds anyone high hes sending them to federal prison btw hes coming over rn ^^”

bro wrestles control of the aux and is like “let me play some calming music :)” and then plays his fucked up version of please hold

straight up sends his friends to his liminal ass waiting room while the drugs start to hit and conveniently “forgets” about them down there

“how much did you take? WOAH THAT MUCH??? oh no its ok. its ok. those are just the drugs that turned me into a watcher. lol no its ok it only hurts an excruciating amount. itll start pretty soon btw and it lasts for eight whole hours so strap in”

[cyanocoraxx]

can you show us all your snakesss pls

of COURSE!!

inti 🌈 - brazilian rainbow boa who i've had for 9 years, i got him when he was just a little hatchling and was my first snake! he can be grumpy sometimes but he's my ride or die snake. he's so fucking beautiful and smart. named after the incan sun god who would send rainbows as his blessing. about 6ft long now

latte ☕ - lesser morph royal python, i've had him for 7 years. he was being sold by some guy on preloved who was keeping him in a dirty, way-too-small plastic tub with no enrichment and nothing but a water bowl. he has a tail deformity and a head wobble but is overall just smashing life! his name comes from the fact that i was working in a coffee shop at the time. 4ft long

carmine ���� - rosy boa, i've had him for 6 years i think? i wanted a third snake and also wanted it to be a species that would be easy to care for and he's SO easy. he smashes his food, has never had any issues, overall just great! but he only has one brain cell and bites EVERY time he's held so. there's that <3 he's named after the carmine brothers from gears of war because i was obsessed at the time. like 2ft long maximum

[steampunkforever]

Imagine you're me, an impressionable young soul raised on cinema classics but not really the new stuff. You're surfing channels (this used to happen) and land on this drama about three escaped convicts during the great depression. Then, as our trio of grimy heroes share roast gopher, the woods around them fill with a white-robed congregation and an echoing rendition of "Down to the River to Pray" fills the air. I was entranced.

It's such a simple scene but this brief segment of the Coen Brothers' adaptation of the Odyssey set in the American South circa 1930something still has such a strong hold on me. Considering how fantastic this movie is, this impact is fully earned. You don't need me to tell you this, O Brother Where Art Thou has seen its fair share of accolades, and it deserved every one of them.

Yet when analyzing the framework of the film, I'm struck with new details every time I watch it. This time around I was reminded of the extreme kindness with which the Coens treat the Deep South. It's an easy place to make fun of. Furthermore an easy target for Hollywood, especially if you want stock characters and a good laugh at the expense of people with funny accents and backwards politics.

The Coens don't do this, almost lovingly portraying the idiosyncrasies of a place still reeling from the devastation of the Civil War, entrapped by the corruption of its own politicians, deeply religious, and altogether its own culture. This isn't the first time that the Coens have put a folksy slice of America onscreen, but I appreciate their decision to explore a world that is more than caricature.

This isn't to say that O Brother Where Art Thou paints a rosy picture of the deep south either. The white-robed singers going down to the river to pray at the start of the film are echoed by the white-robed Klansmen at the end. Prison chain gangs, racist politicians, and con artist preachers abound. One of the main characters is displaced from his home as the valley where he once lived is being turned into a lake by the CCC. This isn't a perfect place, but the Coens embrace it for all its idiosyncrasies, building a vibrant world that enriches the narrative.

It makes this more than just a retelling in a different setting, and on a rewatch so many years later, the movie only gets better. Down to the River to Pray is still one of my favorite spirituals to date.