#fille libre

[valentimmy]

someone on twitter said draw Venezuelan spiderman and I got an Idea

[covenscribe]

1 for general, story, and romance for the companion asks :)

Thank you for sending I'm really excited to fill this out!!!

Where can your Tav be recruited?  Are they first encountered on the Nautiloid, or in the Nautiloid crash region?  Or are they not recruitable until a later act?

Amour can be recruited in the witches swamp next to some mangled red cap corpses.

How does your Tav advise the player character when it comes to the Dream Visitor?

“So we now have someone crawling around our dreams uninvited claiming we should use the thing crawling behind our eyes? I don’t know about you but I would rather serve the little parasite an eviction notice instead of a warm welcome.”

Is your Tav a romanceable character?  Are there any specific requirements to romancing them?

YES! Amour is a big flirt and really only used to people seeing them for sex because of their job as a courtesan. Actual attempts to get to know them as well as doing good-aligned or funny actions in game will get approval.

[hcdahlem]

De minuit à minuit

Dans son premier roman écrit en vers libres, Sara Mychkine met en scène une femme rongée par le crack qui rédige une lettre à la fille qu'on vient de lui arracher. Un bouleversant chant d'amour et de révolte.

    En deux mots Pour tous ceux qui grimpent sur la colline du crack, l’avenir s’écrit en noir. Pour la narratrice, le drame se double d’un déchirement. Les services sociaux viennent de lui arracher sa fille à laquelle elle adresse une ultime lettre. Ma note ★★★ (bien aimé) Ma chronique L’appel déchirant d’une mère à sa fille Dans son premier roman écrit en vers libres, Sara Mychkine met en scène…

[soislibrenana]

A écouter !

Comment donner une éducation féministe à ses garçons ? (radiofrance.fr)

[vmp3p4]

La fille qui chante

Il était une fois une petite fille qui voulait devenir chanteuse. Sa maman voulait qu’elle devienne médecin.

La petite fille ne voulait pas.

Un jour, elle alla dans un studio de musique.

Trois ans après, elle est devenue une pop-star.

Toutes les personnes l’acclamèrent.

Un jour, un monsieur avait mis une goutte de poison sur la tête de Pola.

Elle est devenue terrifiante mais sa voix l’était encore plus alors elle a survécu et elle vécut heureuse jusqu’à la fin des temps.

[greywritesthings]

Too tired to make sense

Spencer Reid x Bilingual!Reader

Fluff

Warnings - None

A/N - I'm still learning so my French isn't perfect! Thanks to @itsleilabxtch for proofreading it <3

This may become a series!

Masterlist

SR Masterlist

You were like a breath of fresh air to the BAU. With Hotch, Reid, Morgan and Emily returning to the team and the newer agents leaving to other posts or retiring to spend time with their families the team looked the same as it had a decade a ago but far less bright eyed and hope filled, apart from you. You were added onto the team as a transfer from the Foreign counterintelligence unit due to your masters and in progress doctorate in forensic psychology and linguistics. You were considered young for the BAU but you had the intelligence and experience so Hotch took you on after a quick interview and a look over your paperwork and completed cases from FCI. He was happy to have a new agent that had a new skill set and didn't carry the same traumas the rest of the team did, he just hoped the job wouldn't break your spirit the same it did the rest of the team. 

You had just been introduced to the team when a case came in. “Crime fighters we are off to Amarillo Texas” Garcia announced as she walked back into the round table room, Causing you to take a seat and look up to the screen she was now standing in front of, you would get settled in later. 

You didn’t get time to get settled in for a week, the case itself was short but so was your sleep. You were doing twenty hour days for six days straight and by the time you reached your hotel, showered and did your other nightly routine items you had a total of two and a half hours of broken and unsettled sleep. It meant by the time you sat down on the jet your brain was running at 2 miles an hour on nothing but adrenaline and shitty police coffee. 

“So, how you feeling after your first case, sweetheart?” Derek asks as he settles in opposite you. “Bien, nous avons attrapé le gars et sauvé une victime, c'est donc une bonne chose, mais je suis tellement fatigué que ce n'est même pas drôle.” “Fine, well we caught the guy and saved a victim so that's good but I'm so tired it's not even funny.”  You smile at him, slurring your words together slightly, not registering the language change. 

You had grown up in England but you were raised by an American Father and French English Mother, it meant you had a mixed accent when you were speaking English if you were exhausted or drunk and that you often reverted back to French.

“What’d you say? I don’t speak that whole French, Italian, Spanish thing. Care to repeat for us English only speakers?” He responds to you jokingly, you still hadn't registered the switch so you were confused, thinking your accent was just coming on heavier than usual. You ask “Qu'entendez-vous par français, italien, espagnol ? Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas?” “What do you mean by French, Italian, Spanish? What's wrong?” Derek continues looking at you in confusion before smiling at you and standing up.”You are clearly too tired to make sense, talk to you later honey” He ruffles your hair as he leaves, going to take up the seat opposite Spencer, whispering something to him as he sits down. Spencer then nods, finishing his page before standing up and making his way over to you. 

“y/n, vous parlez en français, pas en anglais, c'est pourquoi Morgan était confus.” “y/n, you're speaking French, not English, which is why Morgan was confused.” He says as he sits down where Derek just left. “Quoi? Mon dieu, Désolé, je n'avais pas remarqué” “What? God, sorry I hadn't noticed.” You give him a sheepish smile.

“C'est bon, Emily et moi le parlons de toute façon, donc vous pouvez nous parler en français aussi, et si vous voulez dormir, les lits sont libres, on peut y aller ensemble si vous voulez?” “Its okay, Emily and I speak it anyway so you can speak to us in French too, and if you want to sleep, the beds are free, we can go together if you want?” He asks quietly, nodding to the long empty bed behind you both. You smile at him and nod, shifting around to stand up, shivering slightly against the cooler air in comparison to the small cocoon of warmth you had built around yourself during the flight so far. 

You both make your way over to the sofa bed and Spencer sits down first. “Voulez-vous poser votre tête sur mes genoux ? Les coussins sont comme des pierres, croyez-moi.” “Would you like to put your head on my lap? The cushions are like rocks believe me.” He asks, folding up a blanket when you give him a nod and a smile, a small blush covering your features, thankfully not visible in the dim lighting of the plane given that mostly everyone was trying to sleep. 

Soon enough you were settled on the sofa, curled into a ball with your head on Spencer's lap. He had pulled out a book and began reading while you stared ahead or at the floor, at the point of exhaustion where you were unable to sleep. You were growing restless, your foot was tapping against the edge of the seat as you tried counting sheep as a last resort, knowing it wouldn't work when Spencer started talking again, lowering the book in front of you, you noticed he wasn’t just talking, rather reading to you. “Calmez-vous, ma chérie” “Calm down darling.” He whispers to you when he takes a pause in a paragraph. And with him reading the book and the low whirr of the engine you eventually fall asleep.

Taglist - @reidstheyfriend , @oosnapitskat, @lover-of-books-and-tea , @cultish-corner, @pleasantwitchgarden

Join my taglist here!

[ashyyslashy]

faustian bargain - marquis vincent de gramont x f! reader (john wick: chapter 4)

synopsis: To clear your debts to The High Table, you agree to a proposal by the Marquis to live with him as his partner.

warnings: language, sexual content (p in v sex, choking), semi-toxic relationship dynamics

word count: 2.8k

a/n: the john wick lore makes my head spin!

You stared into the weathered face of the man on the portrait before you, tucked away in a private corner of the Marquis' expansive gallery. The wrinkles and creases bore the weight of years of suffering, the lines of his face hard set in permanent anguish. You often imagined them as a collection of sins etched onto his aged features. Sometimes, you found yourself likening the image to a Picture of Dorian Gray. You would wonder whether the Marquis' misdeeds had marred this painting instead of his own self, leaving his striking handsomeness intact, and he’d hidden it from view.

The portrait reminded you it was too late to regret the changes that had taken place; only to find a way to cope with them. You had become used to seeking refuge in your thoughts amidst the entrapment of your existence. You would conjure whatever you liked to make this engorged mansion seem less stifling.

You had made an off-hand comment to the Marquis once, that you felt like a cat in a cage without enough room to stretch its legs.

He had chuckled, with his own catlike eyes boring into yours. "Mon amour, you are only bound by your own pride and reluctance. Laissez-vous être libre."

In seeking freedom from The Table, you traded one form of enslavement for another. For some unknown reason, the Marquis had taken an interest in you upon your first meeting. So he offered you a choice: join the fruitless battle to kill John Wick or stay with him in his home until it was all over, in some sort of twisted romantic scenario. Whether he was driven by boredom, liquor, or pure schadenfreude, you were unsure. Regardless of his motivations, you knew there was really only one correct answer if you wanted to live.

"I'll live with you," you'd told him. "But what is it you really want from me? No bullshit."

"The companionship of a beautiful woman, is all. Is that truly so wrong?"

His full lips formed into a roguish smirk.

You should have known there'd be a catch. You didn't simply live in his mansion - you were confined to it. Even with supervision, you weren't allowed to leave the property. As a result, you desired his presence in order to fill your solitude, developing a sudden and unexpected connection to the man. It was shocking how quickly your resolve to spite him faded. He became your lifeline, your connection to the outside world. And despite your best judgement, the more time he spent away, the more you yearned for him.

You hated his brand of intoxicating hedonism, the luxury items and expensive food he lavished upon you to win your favor. But you wore the designer dresses he laid out on your bed and drank the aged wine that was served at dinner.

You felt like you were betraying what you stood for through your infatuation with him. You resented yourself for growing so dependent upon him. Every touch you shared, every pent-up moment of sexuality - and there were few and far between - sent a flood of guilt rushing throughout your body. You'd wanted to escape The Table, but had only gotten yourself in deeper by fraternizing with the enemy.

The worst part of all was that he assumed a total indifference towards you. He would only provide you with the occasional caress or kiss on the cheek and any coy allusion he made to romance or sex in conversation was carefully veiled. He was forcing you to make the first move, and you wished so strongly that you could shatter his confidence by refusing to make it.

But at the same time, your resolve was wavering - every part of you was consumed by a flaming desire for him, steadfast in its absolute power.

You knew you had to do something to extinguish it.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The clatter of silverware resounded throughout the dining room, forks scraping against fine china.

You'd been fixated on him all night. Your eyes were glued to the veins flexing in his hands as he grasped his utensils, the curve of his lips when he brought a forkful of food to his waiting mouth, the tensing of his sharp jawline as he chewed.

Every time he met your gaze, your nerves stood on end. The meal seemed to drag on, and no matter how much you ate, nothing could fill the gaping pit of anxiety in your stomach. It was just the two of you tonight, and the air felt charged with electricity.

"C'est fini," the Marquis commanded suddenly, pushing his chair back. It dragged across the polished floor with a squeal.

As you always did, you stacked the plates and carried them into the kitchen, starting to wash them until the staff refused to let you help any further. You wished they would allow you to do more- you hated not feeling of use, and you disliked others waiting upon you. Your sense of independence was unshakeable, even here.

When you left the kitchen, the Marquis had gone, likely retired to his chamber. You were counting on that. You hurriedly crossed the house, taking deep breaths for what you were preparing to do.

Standing in front of his door, you raised your right knuckle and rapped upon the wood. You heard shuffling within.

"Who is it?" he called.

"It's me," you replied sheepishly.

"D'accord. Come in."

You slowly pushed open the door and stepped into his room. His bare back was facing you, muscles rippling as he leaned over to unbutton his pants.

Your cheeks grew hot. "Um- you know, you could have told me to wait and gotten dressed first."

He turned around, stepping out of his pants and laying them next to his discarded shirt on the bed.

"I was not aware you were such a prude."

You scoffed and mumbled something under your voice about "public decency", trying to hide the anxiousness creeping into your tone. He strolled past you with an air of nonchalance, naked save for his boxers.

"So are you going to tell me why you're here?" he continued after several moments, folding his clothes with all the ease of someone who's never had to do their own laundry. He slipped a silk robe over his body before pivoting towards you, his eyes boring into yours.

You let out a breath of air. "Um... I need to ask. What's going on here? With us?"

He cocked an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. What is it you want from this?"

He shook his head. "Déjà vu. You have already asked me this. My answer has not changed."

"Sure. My company, huh?" You replied in an insinuating tone.

"If you are implying that I expect you to do sexual favors for me, do not worry. I would have asked by now."

"What a gentleman."

"Mmm. When I say company, I mean company, chérie."

"Alright. Well..." you stepped towards him, shaking off any lingering feelings of hesitance. "I think you're a coward."

He moved closer, a dark look crossing his face. "Oh, do you?"

"Yeah. You know, I hear a lot around here. And I see how you pull the strings to ensure that everyone but you faces John Wick."

His jaw hardened. "It would be wise not to involve yourself in things that do not concern you."

"See, but you being a coward does concern me. I mean, it must be why you're just biding time until I make a move on you. Since you won't be the one to do it."

You were playing with fire, taunting him like this. You'd know him long enough to become immune to his attempts at intimidation, however.

He treaded backwards, barking out a laugh. It was strange to see him lose his perfectly-maintained composure even for a brief moment.

"You think you know everything, non?"

"I know more than you think," you countered. "You didn't deny it, after all."

"So this was the purpose of the visit? You have come to lecture me for not being man enough?"

"No. I came to ask you to be honest."

"I am not an honest man, chérie. You should know that. So what is it you want me to say?"

You were aware you were about to give away the upper hand, but fuck it.

"It'd like to know if you really do want me."

He shook his head, lips pursed together in amusement. "And did you not just boldly declare that I do?” 

"Stop toying with me."

He let out a sigh of exasperation. "I cannot understand why you ask me this. If I did not want you, why would you be here? I have given you space, and you interpret this as a sign of cowardice. I did not think boldly pursuing you would go over well. My mistake."

"That's not what I'm saying," you retorted, an indignant cry escaping your lips. "I'm alone in this house most of the time, and when you are here, you treat me as if I'm invisible. I feel like the fucking toy that the spoiled brat refuses to play with."

"You believe this is how I see you?"

"Yes, I believe it," you spat.

He laughed again, the sound not as sharp as before, humorless.

"How wrong you are."

"Then tell me your side of the story.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed, his hands resting on either side of him.

"I decided I would not send you to the front lines of this war with John Wick. I am confident I will win, bien sûr, but not without casualties. I did not want you to be one."

"Why?"

"J'sais pas. A feeling I had that I cannot explain. I just knew I wanted to give you a way out. I..." he trailed off. "I did not do it to taunt you, as you think. And I am not indifferent towards you. I thought that much was obvious."

"How wrong you are," you imitated.

"You are one to talk, chérie. You walk around as if you hate me and everything I stand for."

"I wish I did,” you replied ruefully.

His expression was unreadable. You approached him, standing over his form on the bed. Tentatively, you reached out to untie his robe, your movements slow in the case that he'd want you to stop. He stared up at you with unblinking eyes as you slid the folds of his robe to the side, revealing his bare chest. He shrugged the rest of the garment off, allowing it to fall to the floor. You slowly ran your hand across his abs down to his happy trail. 

"Do you like what you see?" he murmured, his eyes searching you for validation that you were surprised a man of his status would be asking for.

"I saw it before when you were walking around half-naked, but yes, I do."

Ignoring your sarcastic comment, as he tended to do, he gestured towards your own clothing. "Take it off."

You were too caught up in the headiness of the moment to protest that he'd phrased it as a demand. You pulled your nightgown over your head, and it joined the clothing pile on the floor.

Gazing at you intently, he placed his hands firmly on your waist and pulled you towards him. He took one of your breasts in his mouth and then the other in turn, swirling his tongue around your nipples. You dug your hands into his brunette locks as he peppered your chest with love bites, exercising his newfound lack of restraint. 

It was hypnotizing to see his guard go down, a hungry, animalistic fervor overtaking him. He was feverish with his movements as he pulled you to straddle him, his hard cock pressing against you. You tugged down his boxers and let the member spring free, admiring it for a moment before moving your hand in front of you to pump it up and down. You adopted a slow pace to offset his sudden frenzy, determined to leave him wanting more.

He slid backwards across the bed and you followed, your hands still working around his cock. He laid his head down on the pillow, looking at you lazily with hooded eyes.

"This must be how all of your fucks go, huh? You just lay down while the other person gets you off?" you teased while suspecting there was some truth to the notion.

"I'm simply fulfilling the role you've already carved out for me, non?" he retorted, reaching out his hand to smooth your hair back.

You spit on your hand and lubed up his cock, feeling the intensity of his gaze burning your face. You pressed down on his shoulders for support as you lifted yourself up into a crouching position, lining him up with your entrance. 

He sat up slightly, helping guide you onto his cock with eagerness. He sloppily buried himself inside you, and you began to create friction, bouncing up and down with your legs wrapped around him and your nails digging into his shoulders. 

You relished in the effect that your ministrations had upon him. He was a silent lover beside the occasional soft breath or inhale, but his pleasure revealed itself through his body language; his mouth gaped slightly open, eyebrows furrowed, head arched back. You couldn’t help but admire him.

The two of you moved in harmony, soaking in your collective loss of inhibitions as your pace grew faster. You’d caught yourself imagining this a few times late at night, cursing yourself as your hand crawled down to the hem of your nightgown. 

It felt so much fucking better when it was real. 

You scratched deep marks in his skin as ecstasy washed over you, climbing closer to your high, your walls clenching against his cock. Suddenly he was trying to move you off him, and the spell was broken as you looked down at him in confusion.

"Lay down on your stomach," he instructed, and again you bent to his will.

You felt his arm snake around you from behind, his hand clamping down around your neck. You went lightheaded from the sudden loss of oxygen, and a moan escaped your mouth as you felt him enter you again.

"Is this man enough for you, chérie?" he whispered, his breath hot against your ear as he rammed into you from behind.

He was pounding you mercilessly, and you knew that to tell him to stop was to reveal further weakness. You moved to brace yourself against the bed frame, but his hands were on your arms, pinning you down so you were entirely at his mercy.

"Tell me I'm a fucking coward now," he challenged.

"You're - not - a - coward," you managed to choke out, his thrusts continuing to increase in intensity, the sound of skin slapping against skin reverberating throughout the room.

He hummed his approval, before taking ahold of you and flipping you onto your back. His left hand moved to play with your clit as the other returned to your throat. Your back arched in anticipation, your body tingling from the combination of his cock thrusting into you and the movement of his fingers.

"I'm gonna cum," you cried out.

"Ouais, cum for me."

Your body trembled under the weight of your orgasm. As soon as you'd collapsed back down, he quickly pulled out of you, letting out a guttural groan as he shot his load over your tits and upper stomach.

He reached his index finger into the mess, drawing a heart in the sticky liquid and completing with an arrow through the center. The juvenile gesture caught you entirely off-guard until you looked up to see the amused, self-satisfied expression on his face. 

He pressed his finger against your lips, gently nudging for you to open it. You took his finger into your mouth, sucking it clean.

The Marquis laid down beside you, his eyes roving over your body. You surveyed his in return, unused to seeing the skin that he always had hidden under layers of a suit. You half-expected him to tell you to get out, maybe even toss you a twenty-dollar bill, but he said: "Do you want to sleep here tonight?"

It took you a moment to process the question. "Uh- yeah, I guess I will."

"Très bon. I will get you a cloth to clean up.”

He rolled off the bed. As you listened to him rifle through the cabinets, you were hit with the realization that you'd crossed a line you couldn't come back from. You'd fallen into his trap and given yourself over to him, just as he'd always suspected you would. 

He returned to your side, handing you a plush washcloth. You wiped off the evidence of your clandestine encounter, but as he turned off the lights and pulled you under the covers with him, you knew it stained you somewhere deeper. 

When you closed your eyes, all you could see was the haunting portrait. And all that lingered on your mind was a deal with the devil. The Table still had its claws in you.

[the-wayward-arc]

"And great warriors saved them all."

"Mama, are they real?"

She smiled weakly, "do you think they are?"

"Yeah, yeah I do. I hope they come for us one day..." Her mother held her hand as the caged walls separating didn't allow close contact between parent and child. All her siblings held their mama's hand as they slept.....

"I-its okay...m-mama's here..." She choked as her children cried, holding her hand from the cage as she struggled to breath, barely able to see them as her bruised swollen face from their master's beating. She looked away as said Master, an four armed reptilian xenos, was being beaten by an white armored Giant. The master begging for mercy as the giant kept beating him, each fist covered in purple blood.

"Avez-vous montré sa pitié ?!" ("Did you show her mercy?!")

Bring down both fists onto the master's face, caving it in as blood splattered onto the warriors armor as the master went limp, arms falling to the side as he stopped moving. The giant looked at her, she held her children's hands as she feared the worst. But he didn't raise a hand against her, kneeling down to her as he took off his helmet, she gasped as she saw a face like her people. With the color of blue sky she saw only once in her youth in his eyes, his eyes were warm as she placed his large armored hand out for her to reach. More warriors came in,

"Est-ce qu'elle ira bien ?" (Will she be alright?) He asked one as a small light washed over her from a machine on his arm.

She watched as the warrior nodded to him as the warrior slowly and carefully began to lift her up, she held onto her children's hand tightly as they did. Her children screaming for her, but the warrior smiled at her, a reassuring smile as she let go. She watched as he gripped the cage doors and effortlessly ripped it off, kneeling down to her frighten children as he too extended his hand to them, they were hesitant till her brave child walked forward.

"Are you the warriors our mama told us about?" He didn't speak their language, but he smiled at her and slowly each child accepted his hand. Carefully and slowly picking all five of them up as she carried them in his arms. Some climbing to his shoulders or head as they left.

She looked, the best she could see as more and more bodies of the slain masters laid strewn about. More giant warriors walked by, followed by smaller warriors as she heard small explosions and screams of her masters fill the halls. She saw her fellow slaves, women and their children as they were led out of this place...

Eventually they neared the exit, something she hadn't seen since she was a child, all were nearly blinded by the light as they hadn't seen the sun in so long, but as their eyes adjusted, ready to see the warships of her masters that filled the skies before she was thrown down here. The huge flag that waved way off distance in the capital above the Palace, but she didn't. No. She saw something else, huge warships she's never seen before! Hundreds of them in the sky as she watched one of the masters ship slowly fall from the sky, exploding as it crash landed in the distance.

The warrior looked at her before they were all gestured to look at something he was pointing at. Soon a giant face of a man appeared in yhe sky above, he had long hair that was the same color as the sun with the same colored eyes as the warrior that held her.

"Les gens de ce monde ! Vous ne me comprenez peut-être pas, mais laissez mes actions vous montrer, vous montrer que nous ne sommes pas là pour des conquérants ! Mais en tant que libérateurs !" (People of this world! You may not understand me, but let my actions show you, show you that we are not here to conquerors! But as your liberators!) He spoke as the flag that once reminded them all who their master's were fell,

"Tu es libre!" (You are free!) He exclaimed, holding the Symbol the Emperor of the master's, it was nothing but pieces as it fell from his hand.

"M-mama! The warriors! There the warriors you told us about!" Her daughter exclaimed happily as the people around them began to weep, falling to their knees. She too crying as the warriors around them began to cheer as well.

the surviving xenos of the World known as Rylk were being rounded up, brought to their knees as their Emperor was dead. Slain by the Primarch Jaune arc. The 11th Legion had freed another world from the darkness, their sacred duty as the defenders of the weak will never cease.

Been listening to this was inspired

[dreaming-tonite]

Batfamily members as fragrances I like

Dick

Literally my most favourite perfume of all time. The perfume that reminds you of an old school crush (you know which one, that one upperclassman everyone can’t shut up about who’s just so charming and so nice and smiles so wide), if there is a perfume for someone who you can’t help but like it would be this one. Bright citrusy top notes that aren’t quite as bright as him, subduing to the musky, warm scent lingering on your skin that your nose picks up when you almost forgot its there, much like soaring through the air on a summer morning before it starts to get warm. (Quercus by Penhaligon's)

Barbara

Everyone wants to be her but there is only one like her. First of its kind and an eternal classic, if being "it" is a scent then it is probably this one. Determined to a fault and tragically independent. You wish that she would need you but you are acutely aware that she needs no one. Soothing to the nose but keeps you at arm's length, the grassiness and woodiness almost make you forget that the herb and citrus are resting on the surface. (Jicky by Guerlain)

Jason

There is something odd (something inhuman, almost) about him that you cannot put your finger on and you are not sure if you have the bravery to find out. The product of what is real and what is artificial, the scent of someone trying to become human. Mossy, lactonic notes like someone who just crawled their way into the world with the boyishness of citrus threatening to resurface despite the other urges to contain it. Whether being near him would cause you your demise, you will never know. He is not bad, it is not his fault that he is destined to be a little twisted in every reincarnation of the story. (The Ghost in the Shell by Etat Libre d'Orange)

Cass

A half-burnt incense in the temple of a deity you do not worship. Smoke fills your lungs before you can look around to see if anyone is there and from the corner of your eyes, you swear that the lean shadow of a figure briefly flickers. There is no one there, only you and the gods above who may or may not have anticipated your arrival. Strong but not aggressive, warm but not inviting. The scent of wood and spices trailed behind the cuff of your clothes as you left. You could almost swear that someone is there guarding your every step until you finally disappear from their line of sight. (Serge Noire by Serge Lutens)

Tim

Charming and sophisticated but no one seems to grasp what is going on in his head. Such a complex scent profile that lures you in to keep testing it again and again even as the minutes start ticking away. Someone who always seems to be changing with the situation they are put in but also seems at ease no matter where you see him. Smart and witty, almost everyone who was asked would guess that he is way older than his actual age. Whether it is something intentional or not, the opinions are split. (Eidesis by Aesop)

Steph

I will literally die for her, actually.

Bike rides home with your friends. Chilled pink lemonade on a hot summer day. Free sorbet sample from that nice lady who works at the gelateria. All the good things you associate with being youthful and carefree, this is it. The girl next door went away to the city and now everyone is dying to hear her story. But even in a crowd of people who are all waiting to talk to her, she could still spot you from far away somehow and flash you a big grin. Bubbly, cheerful, someone who does not have to announce their arrival but you know they are here when the air gets a bit lighter and the music gets a bit brighter. (Pera Granita by Guerlain)

Damian

(When I say I tried this in the stores and instantly felt poor…)

Warm notes of saffron fill your head until the vanilla takes over and it’s as if it was there on your skin all alone. The epitome of a warm, spicy perfume, the smell of someone you saw in the depths of your dreams once and couldn’t manage to push out of your head, who stood far away in your vision and disappeared the moment you tried to go closer. Someone who jostled you with the initial intensity before the sweetness and petals slowly creep out. You wonder if you look harder enough, would you find him in the waking? (Cappadocia by Memo Paris)

Selina

The fragrance of a heartbreaker who you can’t help but want to know. The alluring notes of roses announce her arrival before you can see her, intoxicating and dangerous. Your head gets lighter when she leans in to speak into your ear, whiffs of cumin and spice tickling the tip of your nose. But no one could have her for more than a minute, and all that is left of her is the cedar and smoke burning into your brain together with her figure as she sauntered away. 100% would leave you crying if you get too close, 100% would try again if given the chance. (Rose 31 by Le Labo)

Bonus

Talia Al Ghul

Try it once and you will never forget it. The smoothness in texture compliments the slight bitterness that comes from the almond milk. Rich, tempting, and elegant in a way that makes your chest ache. It feels like she is doing you a favour just by looking in your direction, and who wouldn't go insane just to be close enough to smell whiffs of vanilla coming from her skin, honestly. (Rolling in Love By Kilian)

| I feel the need to say that all descriptions are not character studies but imagery based on the scent. Some might be more in line with the characters themselves but ultimately, my goal is to convey my impression of the fragrances |

[absolutebl]

Why Don't You Make the BL Spreadsheet of DOOM public?

@hailiy asked a question which Tumblr promptly ate. No idea why. Maybe they deleted it, anyway I'll answer because I get it often.

What's stopping you from sharing your BL spreadsheet??? Us new to the genre are begging with our arms spread out like beggars.

This is actually an easy one for me to answer.

The software it's built on is proprietary. I say "Excel" because that's a genericization, like Kleenex for tissues. But I haven't used Excel since the 90s. Originally it started out on a base code from OpenOffice back before it was forked into Libre. But it's now pretty much my creature. I call it Ludwig for good reason. 10 points to the first epistemologist who can figure out the joke behind the name.

So yeah, even if I shared it, no one could read it. That's assuming I would put Ludwig into the cloud, which I won't. Negates the point (and several NDAs).

I could transfer the data over to something like Libre but it'd get borked. I'd spend ages fixing it. Then I'd never update it because I work in and out of the original. Just remembering to update MDL is hard enough.

I rarely do anything original in and out of the cloud, too hostile of an environment with those insidious little TOSs.

(I even do a remote backup of this nonsense blog on occasion. Because I'm paranoid.)

I also fill in the spreadsheet in a kind of short hand code, that I could explain, but I'm too lazy.

In other words,

I actually can't give you access

Even if I did, it would be in a language your devise couldn't read

And it wouldn't make sense even if it could.

I do explain my system and how it works here.

Couple years old, that post. So some things have been changed.

Data, it's what's for dinner.

Oooo, dinner.

[simphornies]

Hello, I would like to make a request about Husk x male reader, where the Male reader is a sinner who managed to become an Overlord by creating a company selling weapons. The Male reader arrives at the hotel at Alastor's request and, during this visit, he meets the hotel's residents, becoming enchanted by Husk. Once he finishes the visit, he decides to come to the hotel from time to time to relax after a stressful day, bonding with everyone, especially Husk.

Una noche, están tomando una copa en el bar y los sentimientos afloran, desencadenando una noche de pasión (+18). Por la mañana, ambos se alegran de la presencia del otro. Saltaremos en el tiempo al capítulo donde Husk se enfrenta a Alastor y este lo amenaza.

El lector Masculino ve esto y decide comprar el alma de Husk para poder ser libre, pero decide quedarse trabajando en el hotel, ya que le agrada la gente de aquí. Decides quedarte a vivir en el Hotel ayudando.

Husk: Bottom/Uke

Male reader: Top/Seme

A/N: I don't understand/speak spanish so I hope the translation got it right! Apologies if I got some things wrong 🥲 I also could not write Husk as a bottom...I'm sorry it just didn't go that way for me. He gives off such top energy-- If you need me to make a second part where the reader tops, I'd be glad to!

Word count: 2.5k (2,538)

Hell's Blessing [ Husk x M!Overlord!Reader ] NSFW!

MINORS DNI

You walk into your office, absolutely exhausted from your day dealing with the sinners under your control. You knew what the costs of becoming an overlord was but at the end it was all worth it. Power and safety. You decided to get ready to head out and visit the Hazbin Hotel, per Alastor’s request. You put on the best suit and tie you owned, making sure your hair was slicked back, not a hair out of place.

Upon arriving, Alasto greets you at the door with his signature smile. “Y/N! Glad you could make it here. Quite a pleasure. Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel.” You walk in and he gestures to the lobby, “Come meet our lovely staff. This is Charlie Morningstar, founder of the hotel, princess of hell and heir to the throne.”

Charlie runs over to you, eagerly shaking your hand, “Hi! Welcome! Nice to finally meet you!” She smiles, “This is my girlfriend, Vaggie!” She gestures to the one eyed angel next to her who waves in response.

Another resident walks up to you, leaning an arm on your shoulder with a seductive grin. “Hey there. I’m Angel Dust.” He winks, “You look like a fun night~” He purred into your ear. You quickly stepped away and dusted off your shoulder before you walked over to the bar to meet the others.

“Hello! I am Sir Pentious! Builder extraordinaire!” He saluted you, “It’s an honor to meet you! I adore your weapons.” A smaller figure runs from behind him, climbing up your suit to smile closely to your face, giggling maniacally.

“I’m Nifty! I clean.” She laughs as she stares into your eyes. You laugh awkwardly and put her down on the ground to which she immediately scurries away. You glance at the bar and as soon as you lay eyes on the bartender, you feel your heart pound faster.

“I’m Husk. Bartender. Want a drink?” He hands you a glass filled with whiskey which you take as you sit down.

“Pleasure to meet you all. Please, please, continue on with regular matters. I’m just here to visit and check the place out.” You say. Alastor phases next to you, grinning with what you assume to be delight.

“So! How do you like the place? Charming isn’t it?” He asks you, eagerly awaiting your response. You take a sip of your drink and nod.

“Charming indeed. A good endeavor, I’m sure.” You glance up and observe Husk cleaning a glass before turning your attention back to Alastor, “I believe this is a good establishment for me to invest protection weapons in if need be.”

“Wonderful! I’ll leave you here to settle in! Drink, Y/N!” He gets up and phases away into his shadow.

Husk rolled his eyes, “How do you know the boss?” He asks, leaning against the bartop.

“We’ve done business before,” You nervously fiddle with your glass, “He’s yet to do me wrong so I decided to entertain his invite. The atmosphere here is definitely better than the atmosphere in my side of the city.” You gaze into his eyes, seemingly entranced.

He scoffed, “Yeah? Well that makes one of us. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have to be.” He grumbles. You didn’t pry on his statement, not wanting to push too far considering you just met. Instead you just continued to make small talk, drinking the night away.

After your first visit, you frequented the hotel and always hung around Husk at the bar. You spent time with everyone equally but something about Husk just triggered something in you. You formed a deep bond with him, often ranting about the customers you’ve had to deal with everyday. He always made you your drinks the way you like it, listening to you intently. He went from being closed off to looking forward to your next visit.

After an extra stressful day, you stumbled into the hotel, eager for a drink. Husk had already prepared you your usual before you even sat down. “Rough day, huh?” He chuckled, “You’re late today. I thought you weren’t even coming. Everyone else either went to bed early or fucked off somewhere.”

You groaned, “The customers today were extra annoying,” You hissed, downing your glass immediately. “I need a couple of bottles tonight.” You rubbed your temples and sighed, “I want to just lay down and drink the night away. I don’t want to think about those little shits.”

“Well lucky for you, your closest friend here is a bartender.” He slid a bottle to you, “Didn’t think tonight was a drink-to-forget kind of night. Tell me all about it.”

You ranted about your day from the Karens of Hell to the weirdest orders to the most impatient of customers that insisted they get their order as soon as they paid you. Husk sat down next to you, listening intently. What you didn’t notice during your rants was how he looked at you with admiration.

As the night progressed you both had drank too much a bit too much and shared absolutely anything and everything. “You know…” You begin, “...I’m glad I accepted Alastor’s offer to visit. I’m glad to have met everyone here but especially you.” You confessed, playing with your drink swirling it around in your cup.

“Yeah. I’m glad I met you too.” He chuckled, “I think I’ve gotten used to you, Y/N. I like being around you.” You blushed at his statement, thankful that it wasn’t obvious thanks to the alcohol.

“I like you too.” You spoke a little too fast. You forgot to add in a couple of words but before you could correct yourself Husk spoke up.

“What?” He blinked at you, taken aback at your words.

You feel your face warm up a bit more, “What! I meant…I meant I like being around you too! Haha…” You laugh awkwardly. It was quiet for a moment and you felt your heart begin to sink, scared that he didn’t return your feelings.

Husk grabs your hand and pulls you close to him, kissing you with passion. You held onto him as he lifted you up onto his lap. The two of you only pulled away for air and as you were gasping, he lifted up your chin so he could look into your eyes.

“I thought you’d never say that.” He smiled, kissing you again as soon as you caught your breath. The two of you ended up in his room, kissing with such hunger. Soon enough, both of your clothes were on the floor and the door was locked. He got on top of you and kissed your neck, making his way down to your chest to leave a trail of hickies. You humped up against him, begging for friction to which he chuckles.

He reaches down and strokes your cock, slowly to tease you. You whined at the speed, jerking your hips for more attention. He held your hips down and unwrapped his hands from you. “Somebody’s eager.” His deep voice sent shivers down your spine. You look down and see his own hardon, twitching and leaking with pre-cum.

You get up to give him attention, hungrily taking him into your mouth and earning a deep moan in response. He placed a hand over your head, petting you for your good work. You bobbed your head up and down while your hands reached down to give yourself pleasure.

He pulled you off, a pop sounding from your mouth. You were a drooling mess, looking at him with lust filled eyes. You lay down with your ass up, eager to take him in. “H-Husk please…” You begged. He enters you with no hesitation, your spit lubing him up enough to make the entry effortless. You shivered with delight and moaned as he thrusted into you at a steady pace. His hand went up and down on your dick causing you to moan louder in pleasure.

You felt him twitch inside of you, his rhythm fading away into fast paced thrusts. He moans in your ear and you swear that the sound of him almost sent you into climax. He grabbed your hips tighter, “Fu-Fuck…Y/N…” He moaned, “I’m going to-”

You were drooling in pleasure underneath him, feeling your own climax inching closer and closer. It wasn’t long until the knot in your stomach snapped and you released all over the sheets underneath you. Husk felt your walls tighten around him, sending him to the edge. You feel him fill you up to the brim. He leaned over your body, purring in pleasure. After a while, he slowly pulls out of you, the cum dripping out. He chuckled at the sight of you, a powerful overlord, being a drooling mess on his sheets. He grabbed a wipe to clean you off before cuddling up to you. You sigh happily, nuzzling your head into his neck as you listen to his low purrs.

“You’re…amazing. You know that? In every sense.” You speak softly. You feel him hold you even closer. “I’ve been enchanted by you since I first laid eyes on you. I believe I’ve fallen head over heels for you, Husk.”

“I love you too, Y/N. You melt my cold little heart.”

The two of you drifted off to sleep in each others’ arms, happy and content.

The following day you woke up before him. Your mind was still foggy from waking up but memories from the night before came flooding in as soon as your eyes focused and you saw a sleeping Husk in front of you. Your face flushed a bright red and went even brighter upon realizing you’re both naked. In bed. Together. Husk woke up soon after you and gave you a smirk upon seeing your flustered self.

“H-Husk! Good morning!” You laughed nervously. You turn your head as to not face him but he gently guides your face back to look at him.

“Good morning, babe.” If you could short circuit like the other overlord, Vox, could you would most definitely be short circuiting right now.

“Sorry I-” Your voice cracked, “I’m just…”

“What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” He smirked, pointing to himself. You couldn’t help but laugh at his pun.

“I’m just nervous. That’s all. I just…You know…Last night we.” You stutter out. Before you could continue, Husk kissed you, shutting you up. You closed your eyes and leaned into him happily.

He breaks away from you before getting up, “C’mon. Let’s go take a shower together.” He winked.

After you two dried off and got dressed, you headed off to the lobby so Husk can start his day. You wave everyone goodbye and give Husk a kiss before leaving. You run out, escaping the questioning they certainly gave him, not wanting to meet the same fate, laughing.

.

It’s been a couple months since you and Husk spent a night together. You two had officially been a public couple, even letting your relationship be known to your people. If you weren’t already frequenting the hotel back then, you were certainly turning into a regular now, even coming in during work hours whenever you make a delivery close by. Today was one of those days, you were a couple of minutes away and decided to stop by and say hi to everybody. To your surprise, the lobby was empty of people. Charlie and Vaggie were out, Angel Dust was at work, Sir Pentious was nowhere to be seen and Nifty was most likely chasing bugs on a different floor.

“Hello?” You call out to no response. You head towards the bar to only find that empty as well. You wandered the halls until your ears caught two voices from around the corner. Before you could run over there you hear Alastor yell. You stopped and peeked around the corner.

“How many times do I have to remind you to never mention such things to me?” He growled. On the floor in front of Alastor was Husk, shaking in fear with chains around his neck. You hold yourself back from gasping. “Do not forget. You’re on my leash. And you’re getting quite pesky to deal with…” Alastor wraps the chains around his hand, pulling Husk closer and closer to his demon form.

Before anything could happen you jump out of the corner, “Alastor!” You yelled, your own demon form coming out. His neck snaps 180 degrees to look at you, his body unmoving. “What are you doing?”

His eyes squint towards you, his smile getting wider. “My! Who do we have here?” He speaks, voice laced with his radio filter. “To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you here today, Y/N?” 

“Let’s make a deal, Alastor.” You state, “I want his soul. I will pay you for his soul. Fund this hotel, make it better and promise you my company’s undying loyalty and protection. In return, I want his soul.” Your voice distorted at the last word, staring him down with confidence and pride.

Alastor glances down at Husk, still terrified out of his mind before looking back to you. He phases out of his demon form, turning back to normal and you do the same. “Hmm…” He considered, “Well he is getting a bit difficult to deal with. And I would hate to find a different bartender if I were to get rid of him so…fine.” He extends his hand out to you, glowing green. You shake it and the green chains around Husk’s neck disappear from Alastor’s hand. The chains turn a yellowish white as it gets passed to you. The opacity turned more translucent.

You dismissed it and grinned at Alastor. “Pleased to be doing business with you, old friend.”

“Quite a pleasure indeed! Now! I have a radio show to broadcast. Enjoy~” He hummed before disappearing into the shadows.

You run over to Husk shaking on the floor, “Husk…I am so sorry I wasn’t here sooner. I’ll give you back your soul, I just…I didn’t know.” He gave you a quiet hug, a hug that lasted a while.

He pried himself off of you and gave you the most heartfelt smile you’ve ever seen him give, “Thank you, Y/N. Thank you.” He gave you a kiss filled with passion. You felt him melt against you with his wings wrapping around you both. “Keep my soul, Y/N. But…I can’t leave the hotel. I’ve gotten used to life around here and I don’t think I can move in with you…I’m sorry.”

You shake your head, “Nonsense! I would never ask for such a thing. I’ll give you back your soul-”

“No. Keep it.” You blinked at him, confused and shocked, “Take it as my dedication to you, Y/N. I love you.”

Your shock expression melted into a heartfelt one. “Thank you…Husk. Don’t worry about moving anywhere…” You hugged him, head resting on his chest, “I’ll move here. I can run my business away from my building. I want to be with you and the people here at the hotel. I’ve grown accustomed to it.”

He held you, purring as he did so. “Thank you, Y/N. You’re a blessing in this Hell."

[vamppvania]

Hello,

I am Mohammed from Gaza. I am not a robot or a scammer. The war in Gaza has left me with nothing but devastating memories and unbearable pain. I lost my parents and siblings in horrifying moments, and my life is now filled with tears and agony. I sustained severe injuries to my leg, and every passing day I feel the threat of losing it due to the lack of necessary treatment 😭. My beloved wife is suffering from uterine cancer and has not been able to receive chemotherapy sessions since the beginning of the events in Gaza. My innocent children live in constant fear and anxiety, and I cannot bear to see their tear-filled eyes.

I humbly and hopefully request your donation of €5 or more to treat my leg, save my wife's life, and secure the future of my children. Every passing minute increases our suffering and pushes us closer to the edge.

My story is documented and my information verified, and you can verify this by requesting any information you need. Please donate and share my story with others.

My wife, children, and I are waiting for your prayers and support with broken hearts and hanging hopes.

Thank you very much. 🙏🙏

At the time of asking, this fundraiser has only 8 652/50 000k CAD.

Mohammeds campaign has been thoroughly vetted multiple times, and he provides constant updates. He needs 10K more just to evacuate his family. The rest is for medical treatment and a safe place for his family in Egypt.

Let's share this the best we can. I hope donations come in fast!

https://gofund.me/ab879f79

Im going to try tagging for visibility, since these asks don't get much traction on my little blog 👇

@timetravellingkitty @deathlonging @briarhips @mazzikah @mahoushojoe 

@socalgal @chilewithcarnage @ghelgheli @sayruq @northgazaupdates2

@appsa @communistchilchuck @nabulsi @ot3 @amygdalae @ankle-beez @dykesbat 

Also if you see this, please go in my #viva palestina libre tag for more of my fundraising asks and share those as well. Thank you!

[chic-a-gigot]

La Mode nationale, no. 10, 8 mars 1902, Paris. No. 1. — Groupe de toilettes pour dames et jeunes filles. Bibliothèque nationale de France

(1) Toilette de visites pour jeune femme ou jeune fille, en voile paille. La jupe courte et arrondie est plissée tout autour à repincés qui dans le bas restent libres; elle est dentelée et brodée en grosse laine et en soie de même ton. Elle tombe sur un très haut volant plissé et brodé simulant une seconde jupe. Ce volant est plus haut derrière que devant.

Boléro carré plissé et brodé comme la jupe ouvert sur un gilet croisé et drapé en satin liberty capucine rentré dans une ceinture drapée et en pointe. Grand col découpé en forme d'empiècement où se retrouve la même broderie. La manche est plissée jusqu'au coude pour fournir un haut volant également dentelé et brodé.

(1) Visiting ensemble for young women or girls, in straw veil. The short, rounded skirt is pleated all around with darts which remain free at the bottom; it is laced and embroidered in coarse wool and silk of the same tone. It falls on a very high pleated and embroidered ruffle simulating a second skirt. This steering wheel is higher behind than in front.

Square bolero, pleated and embroidered like the skirt, open over a double-breasted and draped cardigan in nasturtium liberty satin tucked into a draped, pointed belt. Large collar cut in the shape of a yoke where the same embroidery is found. The sleeve is pleated to the elbow to provide a ruffled top that is also laced and embroidered.

Matériaux: 8 mètres de voile; 1m,50 de satin liberty.

Chapeau en paille satin nuance blé à calotte haute, entouré de deux amazones blanches.

Wheat-colored satin straw hat with high crown, surrounded by two white Amazons.

—

(2) Robe de promenade pour jeune femme ou dame d'un certain âge, en drap satin noir. Jupe en forme garnie de straps à dépassants de velours. Veste façon Louis XV tout cerclée de velours noir, avec longue basque rapportée garnie de même. Manche à coude ornée de velours et terminée par un volant plissé en mousseline de soie noire. Col haut orné d'une ruche en mousseline de soie noire chenillée au bord jabotant jusqu'à la taille et finissant par un long pan avec petit volant.

(2) Walking dress for young women or ladies of a certain age, in black satin cloth. Shaped skirt trimmed with straps with velvet overhangs. Louis Elbow sleeve decorated with velvet and finished with a pleated ruffle in black silk chiffon. High collar decorated with a ruffle in black chenille silk chiffon with a ruffled edge reaching to the waist and ending in a long panel with a small ruffle.

Matériaux: 6 mètres de drap; 4 mètres de mousseline de soie.

Toque en dentelle de crin avec piquet de cerises.

Horsehair lace hat with cherry stake.

—

(3) Toilette de visites pour jeune femme, en étamine cordée rouge étrusque. Jupe en forme bordée d'un entre-deux de Cluny noir sur transparent blanc, tombant sur trois volants froncés en liberty noir. Corsage rentré dans la taille fermé de côté par des boutons noirs. Col montant de Cluny sur transparent blanc et grand col rond composé de trois volants en liberty rappelant ceux de la jupe. La manche est plissée à l'épaule et au bas et terminée par trois petits volants de liberty noir.

(3) Visiting ensemble for young women, in Etruscan red corded stamen. Shaped skirt bordered with a black Cluny in-between on transparent white, falling on three gathered ruffles in black liberty. Bodice tucked into the waist closed on the side with black buttons. Cluny stand-up collar on transparent white and large round collar made up of three liberty ruffles reminiscent of those on the skirt. The sleeve is pleated at the shoulder and at the bottom and finished with three small black liberty frills.

Matériaux: 6 mètres d'étamine; 7 mètres de liberty; 1 mètres de taffetas blanc.

Chapeau marquis en paille satin bordé de dentelle blanche et orné de choux en mousseline de soie ciel.

Marquis hat in satin straw edged with white lace and adorned with sky chiffon puffs.

[googleitlol]

This is a crack fic I wrote for a friend, be warned of the somewhat sexual content and the test to your sanity this may bring. I am so sorry. @tottybeanlove

Geno's Oreo

Geno stretches as he strolls into his kitchen, already in his muffin-themed pyjamas for the night. They are made from a sultry lilac silk that have been altered by one of Geno’s husbands, the pyjamas littered in muffins with little butter-berets and cute little faces. The muffins themselves are made of a cheap felt material, stapled to the shirt and pyjama pants.

The world’s #1 hater’s day has been a long one. Geno just finished up his 15 hour shift at Walmart; he counted a total of 8 lost children, 23 Karens, and 16 arguments between spouses in aisle 9 that resulted in divorce today. Thankfully, the day is now over and he can enjoy some rest at home. It’s a good thing he bought a special treat for himself earlier in the week.

Crouching down to a kitchen cupboard Geno knows is stocked with the the most mouth-watering of snacks, he opens it to find– the fuck? Where are they? He could have sworn he put them here, they were the first item on his grocery list yesterday! Geno even used his Super-Kawaii-Deluxe-Employee Discount of 0.05% off at Walmart. They haven’t even been opened yet, where could they have gone?

“Looking for something, Butter Muffin?”

Geno looks up to see his husband, the Six-Eared Macaque, perching atop the fridge like the gargoyle he is, a lazy grin on his face as he watches his precious Grass rise to his feet. “Why the fuck are you on the fridge??” Geno frowns, looking his smexy lover up and down with contempt.

Mahogany shrugs. “So your short-ass wouldn’t be able to reach me, Short-Ass.” Geno rolls his eyes over his lover’s antics. The two often teased one another with hateful words and unbridled rage, though they both knew their words were a simple mask over their uncontrollable lust for one another. Their other husband, Sun Wukong, would be having a good show tonight in bed. He also ordained their marriage, but that isn’t too important now. Not when Geno notices what’s in Macadamias’ hands. “Are– Are you eating my fucking oreos?!”

Macintosh glances down at the stack of oreos in his arms, and uses his tail to subtly brush away a few crumbs nestled in the corner of his mouth. They roll down his velvety fur, intricately weaving between each strand before landing on the top of the fridge. “…I didn’t see your name on them.”

“My name was on the fucking box!” Geno growls, and Macromole has to hold back from biting his soft, plump lips in reaction to the unadulterated attraction he feels in the moment. He has to remember that he won’t be able to do anything too visceral tonight, not while he carries his Snart-Fiffer’s unborn child.

Macho-Libre hums, his voice low and sensual. “I don’t see the box around here, Pookie-Stick, do you?”

“You took them out of the box!”

“You didn’t write your name on each individual one.”

“I shouldn’t have to, they’re supposed to stay in the fucking box!” Geno shouts, and Bear-Mace simply shrugs in reply before plopping a thick double-stuffed oreo in his mouth.

That’s the final straw, and before the One-Eyed Macrame can hear what’s about to happen, his lovely Oil Cheeks leaps up at him with the raw athletic power of Simone Biles jumping over Shaq. Geno manages to snatch Macrophage’s tail and yank it with him as he falls to the ground. Machinable barely has time to latch onto the fridge in order to stop himself from falling, his horde of cream-filled cookies scattering over the appliance and bouncing onto the floor where many of them break more violently than Bane breaking Batman’s back.

Geno clings to his hubby-zubby’s tail, and while his grip is strong (as Macaroni already knows), it isn’t strong enough for when the half-blind Shadow the Hedgehog begins whipping it back and forth in an attempt to shake him off, much like that one Taylor Swift song (Shake it Off is Taylor Swift, right?)

The shaking of his fat dumpy is enough to send his Kitten Whisker’s into orbit. However, seeing as they are both inside, Geno flies into the wall instead. The entire side of their kitchen snap, crackles, and crumples onto what one might consider a honey badger in human form, burying them in debris.

Mallory hops down from his safe-haven and rushes to what might have just become a crime scene. “Ranch? Are you okay, Biscuit Fart?”

A head pops out from the crumbled remains of the wall, much like the bulge in Macrofossil’s pants. “No, you threw me into a fucking wall!”

“Yeah, but like, are you hurt?” Macarena asks while turning away to start collecting whatever unbroken oreos he can find on the ground. After all, the five-second rule is still a thing fifteen seconds after food touches the floor.

Geno gives his lover a baffled look, half-wondering if he in-fact was more of a dumb-ass than he already believed him to be. “I CAN’T GET UP! THE FUCKING WALL CAVED IN ON ME!!!”

Macrobiotic’s ultra-hot-seductive voice makes a return as he hums, though it’s a borderline moan. Why would he be moaning at this? I don’t know, he’s a little fucked up. “Hmm… you should probably stay there, then. You don’t wanna move around too much and pull something, my Cutey-Hangnail-Toilet-Seat.”

“Screw you, jackass!” Geno seethes as Minnesota disappears into his own shadow before popping up beside his lover.

“I love you too, my Hubby-Wubby-Bubba-Boo.” He swoons before attempting to feed his Vanilla Wafer an oreo. However, his precious Parmesan refuses to eat it. Instead the creampie-sandwich sits on Geno’s face, over his air-tight sealed lips. Michegan really wants to devour those lips.

He refrains from doing so, instead stacking a few more oreos on his Sugar-Snot’s mouth before sharing a look of longing with him. Mariana-Trench looks at Sriracha-Sprinkler with a look of utter desire and lust while Geno himself glares with a look of unfiltered hatred. Truly, a match for the ages.

A wild Sun Wukong appears!

“Hey it’s me, Wukong!” He declares, not even taking steps into the kitchen. He just sort of slides into frame, I’m losing my sanity and this is becoming low budget.

Geno isn’t losing his sanity, he’s just tired of everyone’s shit. “SHUT THE FUCK UP, WUKONG!”

Both Wukong and Mac Miller gasp, a single diamond of a tear falling gracefully from the Great Sage’s face. “How could you?! I love you, Geno-Senpai!” He declares, dramatically placing a heartbroken hand over his chest while giving his lover the most chihuahua of puppy-dog eyes.

“If you love me, you’d get me back my goddamn oreos.” Geno scoffs, and the Monkey King looks between his lover, his other lover, and the oreos in his other lover’s gloves (Glove-rs? Donald Glover? Is this America?)

Due to the lack of budget, Wukong slides towards BigMac– the name he uses in bed– and robotically takes an oreo like the npc he is. He then places the oreo on top of the stack that is already on Geno’s face.

Trapped beneath the rubble of the wall, he can only glare at his husbands while plotting their murder (second murder, in Macaque’s case) “Jesus fucking Christ.”

In steps Jesus Christ, not sliding because the Son of the Holy Father is not constrained to simple things like budget. “You called?”

[myrtles-and-blood]

Prayer to Lord Lucifer

Got some inspiration today and I could finish the set of prayers!

The morning star, whose light was once envied by every star in the universe, one night it stopped shining. Condemned to darkness, he rose amongst the shadows like a new Sun. Free from rules, free from chains, finally free. Guide me through the darkness of the soul. The shadows that you can only illuminate. Guide me to be free, after all these years trapped. Through pain, through sacrifice, give me your hand through the mirkness and fill my soul with pride and wisdom. Lord Lucifer, Prince of Darkness. Your light, once snatched from you, rises again from the depths of the Earth. Only you know such paths, and only you can guide me.

Spanish version

La estrella de la mañana, cuyo fulgor envidiaban todas las estrellas del universo, una noche dejó de brillar. Condenado a la oscuridad, se alzó entre sombras como si de un nuevo Sol se tratase. Libre de normas, libre de cadenas, libre al fin. Guieme a través de la oscuridad del alma. Las sombras que solo usted puede iluminar. Guieme a ser libre al fin, después de años encerrada. A través del dolor, del sacrificio, deme su mano a través de las sombras y llene mi alma de orgullo y sabiduría. Lord Lucifer, Príncipe de la Oscuridad. Su luz, una vez arrebatada, vuelve a resurgir desde lo más profundo de la tierra. Solo usted conoce tales caminos, y solo usted puede guiarme.

[esuemmanuel]

That the soul may be filled with ether in its purest form through eyes free from the veil of material blindness and be pleased with the purity of heaven distilled by the lines of hands full of chastity… Yes, this is how one comes back to believe in God and, without any doubt in the roots of reason, one kneels down to pray.

Que el alma sea colmada de éter en su más pura forma a través de unos ojos libres del velo de la ceguera material y se complazca en la pureza del cielo que destilan las líneas de unas manos llenas de castidad… Sí, así se vuelve a creer en Dios y, sin duda alguna en las raíces de la razón, uno se hinca para ponerse a rezar.