onemillionbeetles

[onemillionbeetles]

ppl who celebrate fictional character birthdays are annoying pass it on

[onemillionbeetles]

fuuuuuuck i kinda hate everything i write and wanna delete it all bc it’s so cringe and stupid

[onemillionbeetles]

really good thing about eartha kitt I wanna be evil is how easy it is to invent new verses. I wanna be evil. I wanna throw cats. I wanna be evil. I wanna wear hats

[onemillionbeetles]

oswalda nation, i offer you a fic

i tried to post this THREE SEPARATE TIMES and had to format it by hand every single time. it’s 3 AM, I’m exhausted, but it’s done.

Just a reminder, as is the case with almost all of my fics, this fanfic is not intended for audiences under the age of 18, and contains explicit content. PLEASE do not interact unless you are of age. 🔞

Link here:

Full fic under the cut:

You couldn’t believe what you were about to do.

You’d been working for the Lounge for a couple months now, and to say you’d developed a crush on your boss was an understatement. You were utterly infatuated. There was just something about her commanding presence, the way she could get everyone in a room on her side effortlessly, that sent you head over heels. You could barely speak to her anymore without tripping over your words. It had gotten to the point where you lingered by her dressing room after every performance, hoping she’d need your help and invite you in. Or maybe just offered you a drink. Or more…

It was a pipe dream, undoubtedly. You weren’t sure she thought of you at all. But today was your chance. She’d be busy all day, no one should be around to disturb you, and the dressing room door had been left unlocked. It was perverted. It was shameful. You turned the knob anyway.

You took a moment to drink it all in. It was just as lavish as you’d hoped. Your eyes were drawn to an overstuffed armchair in the corner, on which one of Oz’s white dress shirts was draped.

Maybe you should hang it up. Sure, it was out of line, but she’d appreciate it. You think. As you grabbed it, the expensive fabric sliding through your fingers, you caught a whiff of her lingering perfume, cigarette smoke, and some other scent that was uniquely her. It was utterly intoxicating.

No. Do not. That would be so violating.

And yet, you sink into the chair, face buried in the fabric, glancing over your shoulder every time you inhaled. Who were you kidding? She wouldn’t be back anytime soon. Why not enjoy yourself awhile?

Oh, Oz, you thought. Perfect, beautiful Oz. So impossibly far from your grasp. Any sort of flirting was out of line, no matter how much you longed to tell her how you felt. You let your mind wander to a more optimistic future, where things were different. She wouldn’t mind at all. In fact, she had felt the same all along. You’d embrace, kissing those crimson lips that filled your sleepless nights. Pressed so close to her, you could… you would…

The hand not grasping her shirt trailed down your torso. Oh, god. You couldn’t be serious. And yet…. You were all alone. Who would catch you? You could indulge, just this once.

Your hand dipped beneath the waistband of your skirt, teasing between your legs as you fantasized. You bit your lip to stop from whimpering. How filthy. What would your boss think? What did you care? It felt too good to stop. You drifted into distracted bliss, so wrapped up in pleasure that you didn’t hear the footsteps down the hallway.

Nor the door opening.

Nor the subject of your fantasies gasping when she saw you slumped in her chair.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Your heart dropped. You couldn’t even reposition yourself, you merely froze in fear.

“I- I’m sorry- I- I can explain, really, I-“ There wasn’t anything you could say that wouldn’t dig your grave even deeper.

“Shut up,” she sighed, more exasperated than angry. She stared at you in such an abrasive way that you could sense it even with your eyes closed. But it wasn’t all icy rage. There was some morbid delight she was getting out of seeing you so vulnerable.

“I didn’t say stop.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. You shouldn’t even still be here, your brazenness destining your severance from the company, or worse, “taken care of.” You definitely should NOT be touching yourself in front of your boss while she forced you to continue.

Then again, what other choice did you have?

Trembling, staring at the floor, you continued, fingers dipping beneath your legs to their familiar spot. You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to ignore the fact that the woman of all your fantasies was staring down at you. As mortified as you were, you had to admit you’d dreamt of moments like this, even if you’d hoped for more… romantic circumstances, you supposed?

Her hand snapped forward to grip your jaw.

“Now, now. Look at me.” Oz said curtly,

“There’s no use being embarrassed now. You did this to yourself.”

God, that shouldn’t have been as hot as it was. You met her eyes, feeling your face turn red beneath her hand. Right, your hand. Just focus on that. You resumed your movements, slow and methodical, feeling the pressure in your abdomen building up again. A low whine escaped your lips.

“How pathetic.” Oz spat out, “You’re filthy, you know that? Sneaking into my dressing room just to huff my perfume and stroke off? I mean, really, have you no shame?”

You swallowed hard. A mix of arousal and shame was turning your brain to a thick fog.

“I asked you a question. Now, answer me.”

Oz’s grip tightened. You cleared your throat and, despite your crippling embarrassment, managed to speak.

“N-no, ma’am…”

“No, what?” She cocked an eyebrow. She was inches away from you now, and you could smell her perfume, so much nicer on her skin than a dress shirt. It made your head spin.

“No, I have… I have no shame.” You resisted the urge to look away. As ashamed as you were to see her face as you admitted such vulgar things, you had a feeling it would only be worse if you stared at the floor again. Then again, she was very, very attractive when she was mad. You throbbed beneath your fingertips.

“That’s right,” Oz chided. She was grinning sadistically, content to wrap you around her finger. “You’re nothing but a desperate little whore. You couldn’t even wait until you left to get your sick perversions taken care of. You’ve been thinking about me, haven’t you?”

Your eyes darted to her crimson lips, so close and yet so far. You nodded.

“Y-yes ma’am.”

Oz laughed, low and throaty.

“Tell me what you were thinking about. While you were in my dressing room.”

“W-what?” You stammered.

“Well, don’t I deserve to know? I mean, I am the star of your fantasies. So tell me. Let me see what I do to you.”

She punctuated the last sentence by lifting your skirt so your crotch was on full display. She watched with rapt attention as your fingers pumped in and out, in and out, slick with want. It was enough to send dull throbs into your core.

“I… I was thinking of how pretty you are,” you whined, “Y-your hair, your eyes, your voice, your lips, how you smile at me, those hands- augh! and how t-they would…. How they could feel on my skin…..”

“Faster.”

You tilted your hand confusedly.

“Come on. You can go faster than that.”

Gripping your wrist, she guided your hand’s motions. You gasped at the speed, clenching around your fingers.

“Keep going.”

You nodded, utterly exasperated.

“I- I thought about how nice it would be, y’know, if you touched me like this,” you huffed, “how good it could feel.”

“Faster.”

“How badly I want you to touch me,” you sighed, complying with her demands, “How much I need your touch.”

Oz grinned down at you, feigning sympathy.

“How sentimental.” Was she licking her lips? “You want me to help you out with your little predicament?” Her voice dripped with sarcasm, but you nodded nonetheless, too needy to care.

“Then beg for it.”

She withdrew her hand from your wrist, staring down at you expectedly.

“Oh, god, I-“ you started to protest, but she cut you off again. Her voice dropped to a sultry whisper as she leaned into your ear.

“How am I supposed to know what you want if you don’t tell me?”

Your heart skipped a beat. You could feel your last shred of dignity being flung out the window. You needed this. You needed her.

“Please, Oz, oh, god, please touch me, please, I’m so close, I need you so badly, I can’t stand it- augh!”

Your pleading was stopped only by your own breathy moans, finding yourself turned on even further by how desperate she made you. You only hoped she would feel sympathetic rather than sadistic.

Your prayers were answered when her thumb pressed against your bottom lip.

“Open up,” she purred.

You happily obliged, greeted by three fingers in your mouth. You suckled them obediently, eyebrows arching in submissive bliss, taking them as far into your throat as you could. Once Oz was satisfied, she wasted no time sliding her fingers inside. You cried out from the sudden sensation. It was all you’d ever dreamed of, a million late-night fantasies come to life at once.

“God, you’re wet,” she cooed, “You’re practically dripping down your thighs. Is all that for me?”

You nodded dreamily. She slotted her body between your legs, taking full advantage of her height difference to loom over you. You are completely at her command. Totally powerless. It was bliss.

“I must admit, you are a cute little thing. So eager to please me…”

Her fingers curled inside you, brushing against your clit. Your back arched.

“O-oh god!” You cried out. Your eagerness only inspired her to go faster.

“Not to mention those pathetic whimpers,” her other hand pried you open wider so she had a better view between your legs, “Does that feel good? Letting me violate you like the slut you are?”

You could actually hear how slick your folds were, legs shaking as you chased your release. It was utterly filthy. You’d never felt so low, yet so fantastic. Oz had a way of asserting her power that always left you weak in the knees. She knew just the buttons to press, just how to intimidate you only to draw you back in with a sweet smile, a sway of the hips, a lingering stare…

“Answer me.” Her hand slowed to a heartbeat flick, too erratic to settle into. You tightened around her for any release, but none was found. “In case you forgot, I caught you red-handed. That means you do exactly as I say, or I can get a whole lot less forgiving.”

Oz slid her fingers out, as slow as she could muster, never breaking eye contact. Your eyes widened. You blinked back tears, sexual frustration taking precedence over any dignity remaining within.

“It feels, hah~ amazing,” you whined, “l-letting you do what you want to me…”

Her fingers palpated at your entrance again. You could have burst into tears. Your prayers were being answered.

“I-I’m just a slut for you to use… just a filthy whore… I’m all yours……”

With that, she was back in, pumping in and out with narcissistic vigor. She could hardly believe how desperate she made you.

“That’s right, darling,” she murmured in your ear, warm breath sending a shiver down your back, “you’re all mine.”

She repeated the phrase with each thrust, rapidly losing her composure.

“You’re all mine-“

“All mine-“

“All mine-“

You could feel yourself unraveling. You were close.

“P-please, ma’am, I… I need to…” you panted.

“Awwww, poor thing,” Oz laughed, “Do you need to come?”

“Yes, fuck, YES.”

“You think you deserve it?”

Your eyes widened. If she stopped again…

Now wasn’t the time to be coy.

“Please, just let me come, I’ll be good, I promise-“ you pleaded tearfully, “I can be such a good girl for you….”

Oz couldn’t have been prouder. Finally, you’d accepted your place. She hadn’t even needed to remind you to use your words, that’s how desperate you were. It would be cruel to deny you. To punish her good girl.

“Go ahead then.”

Come for me.

The words had barely escaped her lips when an orgasm rippled through you, cascading down your legs, cries of pleasure pouring out from your mouth. Oz kept on, dutifully stroking until you had rode it to completion. She withdrew her fingers and wiped the excess on your inner thigh. Uncouth, sure, but it’s what you deserved. You slumped back on the couch. Your breath was shallow, like a swimmer breaking the surface of the water and gasping for air. You managed to open your eyes and saw Oz gazing back at you, her normally harsh expression softening. Was she smiling? Before you could question further, she pulled your undergarments back over your hips and helped you to your feet.

“I suppose that was suitable enough punishment,” she grumbled, back to her usual persona. “But don’t think you’re off the hook.”

“Huh?” She couldn’t mean…

“I expect you to return the favor sometime, of course. It’s hardly fair for you to have all the fun.”

You blushed, covering your mouth with your hands. Sure, she was still your boss, but the occasional fling had to be a step up.

You nodded dutifully. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Of course, I must be going, so it’ll have to be another time,” she was already shrugging on her jacket, “and don’t let me catch you in my dressing room again. At least, not without me.” She winked uncharacteristically.

She reached for the door, but hesitated.

“Wait, before I go…”

She walked towards you, backing you up until you hit the wall. Stooping to your height, she kissed the crook of your neck, sucking a dark bruise into the skin. Her hands caressed your waist, pinning you in place.

“So they know who you belong to.”

[onemillionbeetles]

new oswalda fic coming POSTHASTE, i made her really mean in this one and it’s crushing me bc i love love love praise but also there’s something about a ruthless bitch idk……. much to think about

[onemillionbeetles]

started writing before bed which has led to a pavlovian response of becoming instantly tired once i start writing. hence why i haven’t written much lately.

[onemillionbeetles]

this comment absolutely made my day and is absolutely wonderful, but im also losing it a bit at the idea of this person going “hmm not a huge fan of oswalda but after reading about her absolutely annihilating my pussy im inclined to reconsider”

[onemillionbeetles]

i can’t believe that for all the depraved oswalda stories I’ve thought up, i never thought to have her put out her cigarette on someone, now That I’ve gotta get on

[onemillionbeetles]

casually looking through my own ao3 just to see what content ppl want more of when i saw that someone bookmarked my cobigail fic who im 90% certain i went to high school with. they don’t know who wrote the fic tho. insane scenario happening rn

[onemillionbeetles]

I don't generally have a 'first draft' in the way I see described on here. What I write is often what you get after a generic proof read. The exception might be longer fics that could theoretically change significantly during the writing so as to need editing afterwards but this doesn't always happen.

TLDR what I write first is what you get

[onemillionbeetles]

at least can all we agree that the original gay flag with the magic and sex colours is BEAUTIFUL and it should make a comeback

[onemillionbeetles]

i wrote another short story for my oswalda collection but got too ashamed of the fact that ive only been writing nsfw lately to post it, anyway i need a catalyst to go to bed to im gonna post this and forget about it til tomorrow

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62461942/chapters/168079996#workskin

[onemillionbeetles]

I’m back, and with something from an entirely different fandom than usual. anyway, are there any uhhhhhhh cobigail enjoyers in the crowd? anyone else wanna see what’s going on under that cob? or is it just me?

Just a reminder, as is typical for my work, this fanfic contains Not Safe for Work content. If this does not interest you, that’s okay! This work is NOT for minors 🔞.

Anyway, I was so terrified of posting this (as I am w ith a lot of my fics) because it was so self indulgent and smutty, and then rereading it was just like “what if I met a pretty lady who was tall and thought I was cute and-and-and w-we kissed 🥺” lmao

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64363783

(Full fic under the cut)

You’d come to visit Cobigail in hopes that she could help stop the rift. As you ascended into her domain, your heart gathered in your throat. She wasn’t the first god you’d talked to, sure, but after the things you’d heard about her, you weren’t sure what to expect. You just hoped you could leave with your life.

You opened the door, to be greeted with… nothing? Your eyes darted wildly, looking for any trace of the god.

You were about to turn around when she popped out in front of you. You jumped, stumbling backwards and almost dropping Megapon.

Cobigail, meanwhile, was bursting with laughter.

“Sorry, sorry, I just had to,” she giggled, “It’s been so long since I’ve had a visitor…”

You took in her appearance. She was tall, very tall, with two sets of arms made of thorny vines and what looked to be a cob of corn for a body. Her face was pale, her crimson lips curled upwards in a wry smile.

She was terrifying. She was beautiful.

Your face went warm, redness spreading across your cheeks. What had you come here for again? You could hardly remember… come on, lock in, you thought, there could be a sacrifice happening any minute now!

You explained to her your situation, how Inspekta and his Bizzyboys had sent you here to find an answer, how her followers had descended into chaos, and that you needed to know if she remembered anything about the offerings she used to get.

She helped as much as she could, but it was clear she didn’t have the memory she used to. Still, you took down everything she told you. It helped that you felt drawn to her, not wanting to leave quite yet. She hadn’t had a worshipper come see her in so long. It only felt right to stay a while. Plus, it didn’t hurt that you had a rapidly growing crush on her.

If only you could tell her…

Then, it dawned on you. That silly message you’d recorded on Megapon of a dog barking. Ridiculous? Maybe, but you’d be willing to bet she’d get a kick out of it. Besides, you had nothing to lose, especially with a rift literally on the horizon.

Fuck it.

“BARKBARKBARKBARKBARKBARKBARK”, roared Megapon’s tinny speakers.

Cobigail threw her head back with laughter. “Gee, you flatter me,” she chuckled. Oh, thank god, she liked it, you thought. Even if she took it as a joke, you could live with that.

But when she met your eyes, there was total seriousness in them. Her smile had melted from giddiness to something more.

“Aw, does someone have a little crush on me?” She batted her eyelashes.

You nodded, throat suddenly very dry as she inched closer.

“How sweet,” she muttered, cupping the side of your chin, “You know, you’re really cute… we could have a lot of fun together, you and I.”

You moved to protest, rambling about how her followers needed her, but she shut you up by snaking a set of arms around your waist.

“Relax, time works differently up here,” she cooed, “You won’t be gone longer than a minute.”

You looked down shyly, not quite believing what was happening. You just flirted with an absolutely gorgeous corn-cob of a woman, and she just reciprocated? You wondered just what her idea of “fun” was, but you needed to find out.

“What did you have in mind?” You croaked.

“Could I… help you out, y’know?,” she grinned wildly, “After all, it’s been so long since a human’s bothered to visit me, especially one as plum sweet as you…”

She squeezed your waist, thumbs circling at the bare skin under your shirt. Jeez, she was handsy. You nodded your approval, seeing stars from the idea of her touching you further, undressing you, maybe more…

She rustled your hair with one of her vine-like arms before plucking your shirt upwards so swiftly you hadn’t even noticed she did it until you looked down.

“Aw, didn’t mean to startle you, pumpkin,” she giggled as you reached to cover yourself, “Just wanted to see what you were workin’ with.”

You swallowed your pride and lowered your arms, watching as her face filled with tenderness.

“Why, just look at you…” she sighed. Her hands surrounded you with a gentle flutter as they ghosted your bare flesh. She gazed on attentively, studying your reactions to her touch. “Oh, I haven’t seen such a beauty in years.” You could’ve sworn she was licking her lips. You only hoped the rumors of her eating people were unfounded…

“Now, I haven’t done this in a long while, but I just loved this when I was human,” she lilted. Two hands landed at your chest, kneading firmly, while the others wrapped your waist. You felt so small in her grasp. Of course, it didn’t help that she was making you absolutely melt with her teasing. Her thumbs circled your nipples and you sighed dreamily.

“There we are,” she tugged gently at them before continuing her rubbing, “Cob, you’re so soft… I forget just how sensitive humans are.”

You fell to your knees, melting in pleasure. The hands at your waist roamed any bare skin they could reach.

“You really do like that, huh?” Her tone was more curious than erotic, even if her touch said otherwise. Like this was all just a very fascinating experiment to her. Then again, you figured if she hadn’t had visitors in such a long time, she must have forgotten how everything worked. Plus, you wouldn’t be lying if you the idea of being poked and prodded at so unabashedly wasn’t making your mind run wild. Cobigail glided down your chest until her hands were squeezing your hips.

“Can’t I see the rest? It’s only fair…” she batted her eyes in mock pleading. She was already undoing your bottoms. Once you nodded “yes,” she got to work pulling them away to reveal the rest of your body. She took a moment to drink in the beauty before her.

“Oh, my,” she gushed, snapping the waistband of your undergarments and giggling mischievously at your twinge of pleasured pain. She reveled in every squirm and whimper.

“Let me get a better look at you,” she mused, cupping you in two of her hands and lifting you up closer to her face. Your back thumped against her palms as you fell backwards, legs splayed out enough to reveal the embarrassingly soaked spot between them. She hadn’t even done anything yet, and already you were wet as a fountain.

“Mmm, how sweet..” Cobigail giggled in a way that turned you bright red. Her index finger teased between your legs gingerly. You gyrated your hips to meet her. Cupped in her hands, you felt so warm and safe. She was holding you so gently, the way one might cradle a baby bird that had fallen out of a nest. Even as her movements grew needier, more lustful, she was still so delicate. Almost too much so. All of this teasing was wonderful, sure, but you needed more.

You mustered up the courage to speak.

“P-please… take them off…” you sighed, arching your pelvis towards her.

She obeyed your request. Her thumbs slipped easily under your waistband, yanking your bottoms off and tossing them forcefully. You shivered as the cold air hit your bare skin.

As you instinctively went to cross your legs, her rough tendrils pulled them back apart again. As you met her eyes, you noticed a hungry glint. The whisper-touches of before were gone. She wanted you. She needed you.

Your gaze flitted downward, where you swore you could see something writhing beneath her cob…

“Golly, look at you…” Cobigail whistled, hands still at your hips, tendrils firmly pinning your legs apart, “All worked up just for me?”

She giggled as she palmed your crotch. You whined softly, arching your back.

“Ohhhh, such a loyal follower for me…”

Your heart thumped wildly, turning your head to a carousel. It felt so nice to give yourself to someone else, to submit to her completely and utterly, and to get such pure love in return. Despite your nervousness, you felt a sense of warmth and safety in her care.

Cobigail swirled a finger around your entrance, giddy at the wetness that greeted her. Her hands were large, sure, but she had certain gentle touch about her that made you feel like you could let go. Surrender. Give in…

You parted your legs further, displaying yourself for her. You wanted to serve her. Such a beautiful god being so sweet to you, it only felt right.

Your eyes rolled back, though you remained acutely aware that she was staring down at you all the while. That, and you swore you could feel her warm breath across your entire body, getting ever closer. She dipped her finger further in and you cried out loud. Your eyes shot open to meet hers.

Cobigail rested a hand on her chin, positively delighted, though a lingering hunger remained.

“You’re being just as good as gold for me, honey,” she sighed, “I wonder…”

You tilted your head as she removed her hand from its perfect spot, bemoaning the lack of contact. Cobigail said nothing, only turning away and rustling at something not yet obvious to you. You could hear her nervously chuckling, breath shallow.

When she turned back around, her cob-like dress was parted at the bottom, revealing what looked like an inky black tendril undulating wildly at the tip. It was slick, viscous almost, protruding out of a slit that you imagined would lie between her legs, had her anatomy been more obviously human-like. Her brow knitted and she glanced up from her crotch. She looked as if she was requesting approval from you. It was unbearably cute. Such a wise and powerful figure, brought to a lovesick sap in front of a mere mortal.

“I just wonder if you could take it, is all,” she smiled nervously, “After all, you took just my fingers so well, and this is… well, it’s interesting, for sure, but it’ll certainly make you feel better than just my hands can.”

You nodded, blissed out and delirious, too horny to be nervous anymore.

“Look who’s eager,” she smirked, “Now just relax for me, honey, and let me show my gratitude to my most loyal follower.”

Her appendage slithered across your thighs, leaving a slick, warm, but not quite sticky residue in its path. It was definitely prehensile, you realized as it palpated between your legs teasingly. You went to clench them together when Cobigail’s arms shot out to hold them apart at the ankles. Your breath hitched. She smiled mischievously, using her spare hand to pin your wrists down.

You felt a bit like a bug under glass. You were immobilized, writhing in delight, all with her watchful eyes drinking in every inch of you. You were all hers.

The feeling grew as Cobigail inserted herself inside you, as slowly as she could bear. She gave you a moment to adjust, arching forward so she could see how you looked taking her, blushing excitedly with every adorable twitch and whimper she could coax out of you.

“How’s it feel, honeybunch?” She cooed.

You were struck speechless by how wonderful it all was. You managed to choke out a “s-so good” before your vocabulary melted into desperate whines. Not that Cobigail minded. She felt the exact same way, even if the veneer of power covered it. It took all the willpower she had to ease you into it. Willpower that was quickly slipping as her hips lurched forward, then back again, thrusting sloppily into you, grip going white-knuckled so that her fingernails dug into your soft flesh, leaving red divots in their stead. Your head spun. Had your hands not been bound, you would have pulled her closer to you. The tip of her appendage pulsed with warmth.

“D-do you f-f-feel that, honey-bunch?” Cobigail huffed, hips moving faster, “That’s m-my heartbeat… it’s going so f-fast for you…”

You clenched around her appendage, the combination of her sweet words and passionate thrusting bringing you close to release.

“You’re doing s-so good… so devoted to me….. but I’m devoted to you too, y’know, hah, I needed this so badly,” Cobigail was rambling hard, and you could tell she was going to climax any minute. She removed her hands from your ankles to squeeze your hips instead, and you used the opportunity to wrap your legs around her back as well as you could. “I was so l-lonely until you came looking for me….. and you were j-j-just so beautiful, and sweet, and eager to please me…. I just had to have you…… it’s all I’d ever hoped for….”

She was so slick with desire now that it was hard for her to stay inside. You were both almost there, your eyes rolling back in your head.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned, “I’m so close, please, I need to…”

Cobigail’s eyes lit up wildly. She met your gaze, gyrating as fast as she could muster.

“Mmmmph, me too,” she whined, “Let’s do it together, huh? Oh, please cum for me, please, please please please- augh!”

You felt the tightness in your core finally snap as you came, followed by a slick warmth filling you when she did the same. Even as she pulled out, she spilled across your thighs in abundance. Boy, she must have been really pent up. You fought to keep your eyes open, hit by a wave of relaxation. When you opened them again, she was smiling contentedly, staring at the mess she’d made of you.

“That was… wow…” you managed to say. She chuckled at your blissed-out state.

“Any time, honey,” she sighed, tucking your hair behind your ears, “Although… I do have one little thing to ask you…”

“Anything at all,” you replied, “But if it’s another round, I’ve gotta get my strength back first.”

Cobigail chuckled, face turning red.

“Would ya humor me?” she asked, darting her eyes away from you. You could swear there was a twinge of embarrassment in the god’s voice. Eloquence might not be her speciality, but you couldn’t imagine what had her so tongue-tied.

She leaned in close, her face inches from yours. You became aware of how small you were. Her shadow eclipsed you as your breath hitched in your throat.

“I….” she squealed, face turning bright pink. Her hands clasped over her mouth, and even at her massive size she seemed to shrink away.

“I want to kiss you,” she stammered. She gathered up the courage to look at you again, anxiously awaiting your response. Her eyes lit up when you nodded “yes.”

You cupped her chin as best you could and closed the gap between your lips and hers. She was being so gentle, lower lip trembling, gentle pecks melting into warm, tender kisses. It was a while before she pulled away, sucking your lower lip before she did.

“Thank you,” she said, grinning from ear to ear, “You’re the sweetest visitor I’ve ever had.”

You sat there a while, foreheads pressed together.

“I suppose I should go…” you broke the silence.

“No, stay a while,” Cobigail replied, “No need to get back just yet.”

She wrapped her arms around you, flopping down on the plush clouds surrounding her. The two of you drifted off to sleep, feeling abundant with love.

[onemillionbeetles]

Aromantic Oswalda. Because I said so. That woman loves no one and nothing. She'll peg you within an inch of your life tho.

[onemillionbeetles]

oh jazzpunk fandom! i have food for you!!!

Something a little different from my normal tone. I wanted to go a bit more surreal and introspective with this one (not to mention SFW lol), and really go ham with the flowery metaphors. y’all like editor/polyblank romantic angst? you’re eating good tonight

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63325219

(full work under the cut)

To say Polyblank’s patience was starting to wear thin was an understatement. There was never any to begin with.

Like most of Polyblank’s missions, their task was deceptively simple: get in, save the boss, get out. They should have known by now that such an easy plan would inevitably be thwarted by a cast of colorful characters, each weirder and more ingratiating than the last. Worst of all was the Editor. They should’ve known he was behind this. The Editor was the proverbial gum on their sole, the pebble that kept sliding its way back into their shoe, the sock whose elastic, clinging desperately to any shred of stability, failed miserably and exposed the Achilles’ tendon to be blistered beyond repair. That is to say, they wanted to kick the shit out of him.

Which made it all the more exhausting that Polyblank was still at the Editor’s lavish Bachelor Pad after five rounds of various games, ranging from golf to boating, none of which were played fairly. Thankfully, they could finally take a moment’s rest.

Polyblank slumped into a (frankly garish) crushed velvet conversation pit, sans conversation. The last thing they wanted was to expend their energy on words, after hearing the Editor’s prattling voice for upwards of an hour. They propped up their legs, debating for a moment if it was worth it to take off their loafers, before remembering they didn’t care that much about the Editor’s belongings. Their head lolled back. It was nice to let their guard down, if only for a moment.

The cool breeze stiffened Polyblank’s posture as it tangled its way underneath their jacket. The city was far below, dizzyingly so, the chatter of people and the endless whirring of neons signs its own type of crickets chirping, crowds blurring together in a sort of pointillism below—the closest to art they could get in their line of work. It calmed them. Despite their reserved persona and top-secret line of work, Polyblank didn’t actually do well alone. Whenever they’d settle down at the end of another successful mission, rather than be relieved for a moment’s rest, their brain would start whirring as soon as their head hit the pillow, chomping at the bit for something to do. They surrounded themself with people, whether they realized it or not. Maybe that’s why they were still here humoring the Editor. The two of them reflected and fed off each other’s energies, they thought, a picture of a picture, an echo slowly fading, a Newton’s cradle clattering towards perpetual motion before puttering into dissatisfying stillness. They would destroy each other.

Their moody musings were interrupted by the click-clacking of perfectly shined Oxfords, followed by cushions shifting on the other side of the pit. Polyblank raised an eyebrow at the Editor before gesturing at his hands.

“Oh, come now, I’m only having a light,” the Editor rolled his eyes. He had produced an embossed cigarette case, inspecting several hand-rolled options before popping one into a dainty holder. He flicked open an equally ornate lighter, struggling to get the flame to stay ignited. The wind did him no favors, but his hands seemed to be… shaking, was it?

Polyblank watched for a moment as the Editor grunted pathetically, handling the lighter much the same way as an orangutan would handle car keys, if he ever got ahold of some.

Eventually, they had enough of gawking at him, sighed, and pulled out their own light. Without fanfare, they lit the end of his cigarette.

The flame illuminated the Editor’s thick lenses, obscuring his eyes from view. It was for this reason that Polyblank couldn’t decipher the look on his face. Grateful? Relieved? Cocky? Most likely the latter, but they could dream. The Editor only nodded once, an acknowledgment that something had happened that had benefited him in some way.

Polyblank sat there dumbfounded for a moment. They were unsure what to feel, unsure of why they had just helped their mortal enemy with such tenderness, a word they did not like using but that was the only one apt for the situation. Sensing Polyblank’s eyes on him (despite his own being closed as he took a long drag from the cigarette) he offered the pack to them. Polyblank shook their head, putting both hands up in defense.

“What’s the matter, afraid of a contact high?” The Editor chuckled, “or did mother tell you not to smoke?”

Polyblank rolled their eyes. They struggled to admit it, but if it wasn’t for the ingratiating smile and posh accent, he’d have a sort of bad-boy charm about him. He was quick to take what he wanted, and with a skinny cigarette clinging to his lips it came off as bold rather than petulant. Ruffle that perfectly coiffed hair and undo the Windsor knot and maybe…

Their mind was wandering again. Back on track now, you have to beat him at his own game. Try as they might, they kept trailing back to that cigarette. The smell was nauseating, the person holding it even more so, but the smoke lingering in the air softened his features and created a dreamy ambiance that left Polyblank’s head spinning. A sound left the back of their throat, somewhere between a grimace, a chuckle, and a hiccup.

“I really think a cigarette would do you some good,” the Editor chided, slipping one into Polyblank’s lapel pocket with uncouth firmness. God, he’s pushy. “Make you less uptight, at least.”

His hand stayed on their chest, the other planting itself on their shoulder. He had them right where he needed. Mere inches from each others’ faces, Polyblank could smell the smoke on his breath mixing with expensive scotch and far too much mouthwash. An intoxicating cocktail to be sure, if they’d only indulge. And god, did they want to.

No thanks, I’m high on my mother’s love, Polyblank quipped tonelessly, not daring to let even a hint of the desperation permeating their brain show on their face.

“Come now, have some indirectly at least…” the Editor took a long drag from his cigarette. He maintained eye contact the entire time, one eyebrow cocked in victory despite no competition. He hooked a thumb under Polyblank’s chin, opening their mouth slightly so they could blow the smoke into it. His lips were so close to their own that they could feel the heat radiating off them. Despite their better judgement, Polyblank inhaled.

God, it tasted expensive. Their eyes fluttered shut as they breathed deep. A smile tugged the corners of their lips. They became acutely aware of the Editor’s nose touching the tip of theirs, and kept their eyes shut so as not to deal with it.

“See, silly?” The Editor chuckled, “Tastes nice, doesn’t it?”

Polyblank’s heart caught in their throat. Silly? They should be insulted. They should take the opportunity to hurl a pillow, a lamp, the whole sofa in fact, against the side of the Editor’s head so that his skull gonged against it like a church bell. And yet, despite every nerve in their body protesting against it…

They kissed him.

It felt like the right thing to do in the moment. His lips were already there. They needed a bit of relief. It was certainly better than miniature golf. Not to mention the fact that beneath it all, Polyblank wanted to do so. Simple as that. That’s at least what they told themself while white-hot panic kicked in. What are you doing? Every synapse in their body was firing at once. Thoughts clattered like marbles, the city ambience building in their ears until it reached a nervous crescendo. As suddenly as they had initiated the kiss, it dissipated and caught in both of their throats.

The Editor, ever the chatterbox, was the first to break the silence.

“Erm-“ he tried to form words, each sound sputtering and dying in midair. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I… hah- I must say, Polyblank, I commend you for taking initiative.” Was he blushing?

Polyblank snorted, rolling their eyes but making no effort to move away. They noticed the Editor’s hand, once passively at their shoulder, had shifted so he was grasping firmly at their lapel. They met his eyes, despite the nausea such intimacy caused them. There was the usual smugness, sure, but that had been knocked off-kilter, revealing a genuine softness hidden underneath. Polyblank’s mind flitted back to the hotel, what the Editor had said to them. They were in disguise as a beautiful woman, but those words didn’t ring hollow. His eyes hadn’t left Polyblank for even a second that night. As much as the Editor could patch sincerity with sarcasm, he had still, rather than disposing of them the instant they stepped foot in his bachelor pad, done this elaborate display of manhood, of self-aggrandizing importance, always something to prove to someone. It all made sense now.

Such affection could never last. One moment later, they’d be at each other’s throats again, no doubt. The cosmic ballet would go on.

But for now, they could reach an impasse.

Polyblank nodded, the Editor repeating his gesture in a moment of mutual understanding.

It was impossible to tell who leaned in first. Polyblank moved their arms to wrap around the Editor’s neck, lower lip trembling against his. The Editor in turn discarded the cigarette, opting instead to grip Polyblank’s waist under their jacket. For just a moment, a peace treaty was secured. The constant din of city life faded away. The only sound was their mouths tangling together, heartbeats synchronized, breath labored. They stayed this way a while, content to offer a simple comfort to each other. God knows they both needed it.

At last, the Editor had to pull away. Typical. Even a kiss had to be under his complete control, lest Polyblank forget who called the shots.

“You know it’ll never last,” he sighed acerbically. There was an undercurrent of sadness, wondering what could have been, had things been different, had Polyblank been someone else, had he been someone else.

After all, there was no escaping the truth of the matter; that the fighting would only go on as long as they’d both let it. At any point, they could have said, enough of this, fired the shot, and tidied up the mess the other had made of their life.

But then, who would win?

Polyblank managed a shrug. Then again, nothing lasts around here.

Ashes to ashes.

[onemillionbeetles]

hey guys, i just wanted to be transparent, im working on more Oswalda fics (SFW and NSFW) but i am suffering the fanfic author curse of Going Through It.

not to trauma dump, but not only did i just get out of a romantic relationship that turned out to be not the healthiest emotionally, but I’ve also been going mad with the pressure of applying to law schools that my parents never seem to be happy with no matter how hard i try. i also have two part-time jobs and am searching for a third, so I’m not in the best place rn and just wish I could put my ass in gear and get my life figured out.

despite it all, writing remain my refuge and a way to feel in control, like what I do matters to people besides just me, like I can do something that I can be proud of. more to come, don’t know when. sorry.

[onemillionbeetles]

👉👈 hey guys I’m back… would yall be mad at me if i gave you more nsfw fanfics…….. about my favorite girl……..

I’ve had quite a few fanfics cooking over the past couple weeks that I just couldn’t seem to finish, so I’ve compiled them into an ao3 fic! sorry I’ve only been writing nsfw, I promise there’ll be sfw stuff too eventually. enjoy!

Fanfic link under the cut, be warned, my fics are NSFW; if you are a minor or uncomfortable with nsfw themes, do not read! 🔞

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62461942/chapters/159850942#workskin