the blue sea to the right

Just so y'all know, Trail Life is a fucking joke and nobody should donate to them. 

-BOY SCOUTS OF AMERICA OFFICIAL UNIFORM COLORS- 

Cub Scouts - Blue with a lot of bright colors, usually on kids 12 and under.

Webelos and Boy Scouts - Tan and a pale green, on anyone 12 and up.

Venture Scouts - Teal with minimal red text, these usually need money for vacations and stuff, 15 and up, can be any gender.

Sea Scouts - Dark blue and black, kind of like Venture Scouts in that they will need money for trips, not a lot of criteria found on these, look for older kids 15 and up, they’re pretty easy to spot and are usually found in states bordering the sea. 

Any group of younger scouts should be accompanied by 1-2 adults, wearing tan and green, of any gender.

Trail Life colors change from time to time but cannot be too similar, right now look for dark red, black, and lighter green.

Trail Life consists of a very small percentage of former Boy Scouts who are “taking a stand” against the ruling that gay kids can get their Eagle and be scout leaders. It is also not a coincidence that you very rarely see anyone but white men in this group. Don’t buy anything from them, don’t even talk to them, they no longer represent any part of Boy Scouts. In my troop, we commonly referred to them as the Westboro Baptist of BSA.

4

david attenborough narration

written using a predictive text interface

source: transcripts from ‘the blue planet’ (2001)

method: chose a word from 15 options at each step. set my favorite completed sentences to photos.

transcript:

Keep reading

The Mediterranean. Sleep again, and at last the pink vin rose light of dawn along the back of the hills in a strange country. Red earth, orange tiled villas in yellow and peach and aqua, and the blast, the blue blast of the sea on the right. The Cote d'Azur. A new country, a new year: spiked with green explosions of palms, cacti sprouting vegetable octopuses with spiky tentacles, and the red sun rising like the eye of God out of a screaming blue sea.
—  Excerpt from The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath
between the devil & the deep blue sea (m)

cr. 

Words: 28,455. (rip)

Genre: Pirate Jimin au + smut, fluff, angst.

Pairing: Jimin x Reader.

Summary: “No matter the endeavour you were on, no matter the storms you encountered on rocky seas, or the possible threat of encountering blood-thirsty pirates, no one intrigued you or intimidated you more than the thought of him, of Park Jimin, the most notorious of pirates, the most brutal of men, the devil incarnate.”

Keep reading

a bunch of rambling thoughts about satisfied
  • it starts with angelica surrounded by people, seemingly satisfied and content, and ends with her all by herself on stage, privately devastated and unsatisfied
  • it’s framed like an essay. intro & thesis, three body paragraphs, conclusion and restatement of the thesis, showing her intelligence
  • while analyzing alexander, even in a lovestruck daze, angelica notes that he’s penniless. this comes up again in reason one, yet is once again dismissed. his financial state doesn’t matter—eliza does.
  • in the sia cover, the aforementioned singer sings both “and i knooow” and “helpless”, signifying that once angelica realizes eliza’s feelings, she is helpless to do anything but acknowledge them
  • helpless is repeated by eliza, three times, one for each reason.
  • angelica notes both alexander and eliza’s eyes, but never her own, symbolically linking them 
  • angelica also mentions “the first time i saw her face / then i turn and see my sister’s face” once again connecting the two people she loves more than anything
  • “intelligent eyes” she notices his mind first, a link to schuyler sisters, “i’m looking for a mind at work”
  • angelica says “mind” rather than heart during “i know my sister like i know my own mind”, showing that this is both a rational and emotional decision; she is using her head and her heart to manage this sacrifice
  • angelica only says “heart” once in the whole song, with ‘set my heart aflame’
  • in the first verse: “i remember that night/i remember those/i remember that dreamlike” angelica uses remember three times, and never forget for alexander, drawing attention to the line that “i have never been the same”—alexander is breaking the pattern of angelica’s world
  • the fire symbolism throughout the song, in comparison to helpless which uses “drowning”. angelica “match” wits, aflame, etc. there is also electricity (ben franklin with the key and the kite), another flame-filled metaphor. 
  • angelica also links alexander to icarus in BURN, in this case, angelica is icarus (clothed in orange), destined to fall, and alexander is the sun. eliza (clothed in blue) is the sea, this metaphor established by helpless and then by satisfied
  • angelica’s reiteration of the wedding toast is a reminder that this is all replaying with her mind; much like “i realize three fundamental truths at the exact same time”, this is all happening within a matter of seconds, showing how fast her brain truly works
  • “he’d be mine” / “that boy is mine”
  • angelica reflects on his eyes right before the reintroduced wedding toast, reiterating the feature she once again first noticed about him
  • satisfied is in many ways a revelation on a scene we thought we previously understood. this is another callback to schuyler sisters with angelica “you want a revolution? i want a revelation!” and the other wedding-goers go “union / to the revolution” what happens next? a revelation 
  • “i just might regret that night for the rest of my days / i’ll never forget the first time i saw your face” regret and forget are the first half of this rhyming scheme, connecting the two. if angelica could forget her feelings for hamilton, she would not have to regret this night.
  • “i’m sure you don’t know what you mean” “you’re like me: i’m never satisfied” / “nice going angelica, he was right: you will never be satisfied” angelica now painfully, acutely, understands what he was saying
  • at least my dear eliza’s his wife / at least i keep his eyes in my life—rhyming scheme, in addition to showing that, even when it comes to consoling herself about losing alexander, eliza still comes first
  • he will never be satisfied. i will never be satsified. is one of the only times in the song alexander and angelica are directly compared the same way that eliza & alexander are on numerous connections. a callback to “you’re like me: i’m never satisfied”
10

When I crossed the long ocean to find you, I saw these pretty stars every night but I was lonely because I was alone. I was tired. I was scared. Right now, is it okay to be this comfortable? Is it okay to be happy? Is it okay to love you?

The Front Bottoms song meanings
  • Flashlight: it’s about someone having a hold over you. this is a recurring theme throughout a number of songs on our album. Our favorite line from the song is “I can hear your dog whistle from my bedroom”
  • Maps: This song is pretty self-explanatory. It’s about the idea of not knowing what’s next. Accepting the fact that your life won’t be as comfortable as everyone makes it out to be when you’re younger. It’s about finding out life is a longer road than you had expected. Favorite line: “Let me be a raft on a blue sea I’ll blend right in”
  • Looking Like You Just Woke Up: This was the quickest song we wrote. It happens to also be the shortest on the record. Same idea as from Flashlight - just someone having a hold on you. (One of our good friends fell in love with this girl that still had a boyfriend and so in order to make time with the girl, he hung out a lot with the boyfriend and her. He slowly found out that the girl he thought he loved was kind of a bitch and he found that maybe the one he really loved was her boyfriend. They have somewhat of a romantic relationship now. And they are living together.) The vibe of this song comes from that situation. Favorite Line: “It probably won’t get easier, just easier to hide”
  • Mountain: This song is actually about buying drugs in Pennsylvania. The line was originally “I bought weed. A big bag in Pennsylvania. I’m gonna light it up when I get home to Jersey” We changed it because none of us have bought drugs or smoked ganja. ever. Favorite Line: “They’re gonna ruin my whole summer. Stop taking pictures with your phone. Stop taking pictures with your phone.”
  • Rhode Island: we met a kid at a punk rock festival we played in Rhode Island. He didn’t do much talking and we called him the Zombie Kid because he was passed out in a pile of sticks. The next day when he came out of his coma, he was asking us about directions on the best way to get passed NYC on a bike. His summer plan was to ride from his home in Vermont to Florida. All that he had with him was a backpack full of drugs. No joke. Drugs. Then we shook hands and he went on his way. On that same tour - two months later - one of our last shows were in New York City, and guess who we fucking see? Zombie Kid. Backpack empty. We asked him what happened and he said he made it down to South Carolina and had to turn around and come back. favorite line-“She says you gotta promise not to break not matter how far you are bent, she says you gotta shift my position and try to get comfortable again”
  • The Beers: It’s about the same deal. Someone having a hold over you, so much so that you’d be willing to put yourself in danger, to change yourself in order to make them like you. But the song is all over the place and that’s just a small part of it. Favorite Line: “And it’s an aerial view from your house to my room”
  • Father: I put myself in someone else’s body and I wrote this song about my life.
  • Swimming Pool: The voicemail in the breakdown is from one of our friend’s dads to our friend about some dumb shit about a girl. He saved it and we added it later on to our song. Months later, the girl’s mom cornered me in the grocery store and asked me if we could take that voicemail out of the song. But we’re punk rock so we left it.
  • Favorite Line- “There’s comfort in the bottom of a swimming pool”
  • The Boredom Is The Reason I Started Swimming: I got stranded in Germany one time and I missed Thanksgiving. Side note: On Thanksgiving, I ate a hot dog with some weird potato shit on it in Amsterdam but it was still mad good. As I was walking around Berlin, I found this circus of freaks - it was more or less a sideshow act but it was free so I went in. I met a dude who was a gangster drug dealer, he let me stay at his house and was actually super nice. He cooked me food and went to Amsterdam with me. But while I was staying in his house he explained to me the rules of the streets in Berlin. Everybody pays, everybody’s head is in the noose, everyone is part of the program.
  • Bathtub: There’s so much in this song. Take it for what it’s worth. Favorite line: Please take me off speaker phone, this is a private conversation.
  • Legit Tattoo Gun: This song was originally called “MJ” because when we put it out we gave it two different names on two different websites. If you know this song as “MJ,” you’re way more punk rock. At one point, I was making out with a woman who was making out with a lot of other people. It was a mutually beneficial relationship. Favorite Line: “I am not a dirty god, I don’t have a dirty body”
  • Hooped Earrings: This is about a friend of mine that asked me to be there with her when she came out to her mother. Favorite Line: Curly hair don’t look good cut short.
  • Roman: Roses are red, that much is true, but violets are purple, not fucking blue.
  • Virgil: I have been waiting for this all my life
  • Logan: They are indeed purple,but one thing you've missed: the concept of "purple" didn't always exist. Some cultures lack names for a color, you see. Hence good old Homer, and his "wine-dark sea." A usage so quaint, a phrasing so old, for verses of romance is sheer fucking gold. So roses are red. Violets once were called blue. I'm hugely pedantic; but what else is new?
  • ((for @thisqueerisonfire))

The blue sea slug, or the blue glaucus, is full of surprises. It floats upside down, and its brilliant blue coloring is reserved for its underside, to confuse flying predators from above. It’s also a fierce predator in its own right: it preys on the highly poisonous Portuguese Man-O’-War hydrozoans. And not only is the blue sea slug immune to the Man-O’-War’s terrifying sting, but it actually stores its prey’s poison in the 80+ finger-like appendages on its body. When attacked by a predator, the blue slugs can re-use the Man-o-War’s poison in their own defense.

Photo: Greg Schechter

A Warm Welcome [h.s.]

A/N: here’s some hades!harry! Sorry if it’s shitty I’m trying to get back in the game! And sorry for any typos and mistakes! Enjoy :-)

___________________________

Being a god comes with a large bundle of heightened emotions and Harry honestly wishes that they had an off switch. Celestial beings are called “celestial” for a reason, after all. They’re abnormally better than any human, and thus they must keep an attitude and air that enforces nothing less, but damn feelings for being able to get in the way so easily.

Gods must be calm and collected under the most extraneous situations, they must rule with an iron fist, and most importantly, they must forbid emotions from deterring them in any way. He’s not saying that he hates feeling emotions more intensely; some are worth the toil. Pleasure, for example, is felt tenfold what any human could handle and he can almost say that this alone makes the troubles worth it. But it’s moments such as now that bring forward overpowering feelings that he wishes he could cast aside: a dangerous mixture of excitement and anxiousness.

More specifically, the excitement and anxiousness that comes with the return of his beloved wife, Persephone (or as he calls her, Y/N), from being away for her given six months of the year.

All is normally well due to the fact that Harry usually throws big, extravagant parties for her returns because he wants the whole world to know that the light of his life is coming back to him, as well as to take off some of the pressure that comes with not seeing her for a long time. He’s talking about an all out, full-fledged celebration with hundreds of different types of flowers adorned all around the dark obsidian palace. All of the gods are invited (even those minor ones that Harry thinks are irrelevant but Y/N carries a fond for) and he brings down the musicians that play up in Olympus because he only wants the best for his precious girl. Amazing food, a ten story cake, and the finest wine and ambrosia brewed all across the seven seas.

But this year, Y/N sent a message with Hermes (whom he knows as Louis) down to the Underworld. As he had unfolded her note, the familiar scent of clementine arose from the scratchy paper and made his eyes pinprick with tears of longing. In her beautiful curvy handwriting, she explains how she doesn’t want a big party this year. That she wishes for the contrary, actually. She wants the whole palace to only themselves so they can take a long walk through all of its expanse and talk about everything that’s happened in the time they’ve been apart. She writes that she loves the parties he throws her, but for this return she just wants some quality time with no one else but him.

And so that’s exactly what he does. When the day arrives, he sends all of his servants out of the castle walls, leaving the place feeling hollow. He sits on his throne waiting for her, fidgeting helplessly. It’s a tall, black steel and celestial bronze number with red garnet and imperial topaz strewn in with the metal. It’s meant to be intimidating and fearful and, well, godly, and he couldn’t love it more. Harry usually feels right at home in the cushioned seat, but at the moment, he feels puny in its shadow; all do to the concoction of giddiness and nerves that stem from Y/N’s return.

He focuses himself on smoothing out the wrinkles in his black silk toga and on messing with the gold emblem that rests on the fabric above his shoulder, right where the back and front of the toga connect. The cherished possession was forged by Poseidon’s Cyclopes at the bottom of the sea, hence why it tends to have flashes of blue in certain lighting. He picks at the ruby eyes incrusted into the ghastly imprint of a skull, tracing the laurel wreaths around its head. His concentration then moves to his hair, which he had cut a couple of weeks back. He hadn’t said a word to Y/N about it in their letters because he wanted it to be surprise. He was sure she would like it because he feels that it fits him pretty well, but now as he sits here with nothing but his thoughts as company, he begins to worry. What if she thought he looked odd? She did really love his long hair– could never stop complimenting the perfect curls that liked to form across his shoulders…

Harry rises abruptly, toes curling against the worn leather of his sandals. His anxiety is going through the roof because he hasn’t seen Persephone in so long and he doesn’t want their first encounter of her return to be awkward. He quickly paces towards the closest mirror in the throne room, footsteps echoing, loud and empty, across the large room. Squaring his broad shoulders, he cocks his head slightly and finger-combs the fluffy, messy curls into place. He curses under his breath as one ringlet keeps curling weirdly in front of his ear and works on taming it, wishing he had some of that new jelly stuff Apollo uses.

He’s so engrossed in his hair that he doesn’t hear the large doors creaking open across the throne room. A single door cracks just the slightest and in slips the figure of a woman, the lights from the giant candle chandelier reflecting off the golden wreath atop her head. The big onyx jewel in the middle of the crown signifies her as queen of the Underworld, the gilded plants at the sides confirming her identity as the goddess of spring. She stands absolutely still at the door, leaning against it’s ginormous frame and watching the young man across the room mumble curses and fiddle with his short curls.

She knows his figure well– too well. It doesn’t take much to give away it’s Harry. The way he stands with his shoulders broad, the silk material of his toga hugging the taunt muscles of his back. The way he’s propped more on one leg than the other do to a back injury from taming his hell hound, Cerberus. The way his tan skin glints like copper, pulled tight over fit arms. Contrary to popular belief, Harry’s skin isn’t pale (underground kingdoms don’t exactly get the best sunlight) but rather a healthy golden tint. She’s not sure why, but she doesn’t question it; it’s a great look on him.

Out of everything, however, the one characteristic that stands out most of all is the way he gives off a certain cold aura that draws her own warm one towards him, as well as the way that every shadow created across the room seems to naturally obey his will, bending over him to cast a dark stain across his silhouette.

Y/N can feel his hollowness crawl across the room, sweeping over her like the waves of a relentless sea. There have been stories that the sheer strength of Harry’s presence has driven mortals to take their own lives do to the desolation he gives off. Being the ruler of death and destruction isn’t exactly a happy job and it’s burden had definitely taken its toll on him, but he had managed to find a way to stifle the vacancy.

That’s where Persephone came in. Her role as the goddess of spring meant that she was, quite literally, the physical embodiment of life and warmth, and thus his polar opposite. It was she that brought the proper seasons around for the mortals to do their harvesting in order to survive, and so it was she that could counteract the darkness Hades resonated.

And right now, she was about to take on the second role again and she couldn’t be happier.

Y/N allows the door to shut behind her, the loud sound of the two pieces of stone sliding into one another booming across the huge, quiet throne room.

Harry’s body freezes up, a sheen of ice materializing across his already cold blood. He can feel his black heart lodging into his throat, his nerves going haywire at her presence. He locks his gaze on her through the mirror, her body somewhat smaller across the large expanse of the walls. His emerald eyes twinkle unearthly, putting the shine of any actual emeralds to shame. One of his titles isn’t “the god of wealth and jewels” for nothing.

Hades turns slowly on his heels, facing Y/N fully. As he takes in her appearance, he can’t help the small, childish laugh that releases from his throat. She looks absolutely breathtaking, a pure white dress flaring out around her body, the shimmering fabric hugging her upper arms as delicate golden chains lay across the tops of her shoulders. A certain glow seems to swell around her, so warm and buttery it makes the candles seem dim. And all Harry can think is, there she is, all beautiful and stunning and all mine.

His feet are moving before he’s even stopped admiring her, walking briskly in her direction. Each step seems to shake the ground, the indescribable mixture of emotions that churns within him finding an outlet in every bound he takes. Y/N takes off too, walking with a certain grace to her that makes his heart melt. They meet in the middle of the room, both slightly out of breath and smiling like fools. He reaches a ring-clad hand out to her, cupping her jaw and swiping his thumb across her supple cheek. Electricity sizzles through their point of contact, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up to the tips. Every cell in his body is screaming to feel her’s, the slight touch setting forward a chain reaction of sensations coursing through his veins.

To his sudden surprise, she lunges first, wrapping her arms around his neck and squeezing the living daylights out of him. His arms unfreeze from their shock, instinctively wrapping around her waist, face burrowing into the slope of her neck and he takes a deep breath, eyes watering with happiness as the scent of sun and flowers and just life fills his drowning lungs. They tumble back a few feet, giggling like children as Harry spins her around, dress whooshing happily through the air. She cups his face, kissing his forehead softly and he can feel her gentle smile spread across his skin.

He sets her on the ground carefully, pulling her into his strong chest and kissing the top of her head lovingly. “I’ve missed you so much, Y/N. So, so much.”

“Me too.” Her voice is, for the kick of the joke, like the first breath of spring – it refreshes him, filling every crevice of his body with light.

Harry pulls back, leaning down to prop their foreheads together, staring into her caring eyes and grinning like an idiot. His dimples pop into place and she laughs, reaching up to poke at them playfully.

“You cut your hair!” She exclaims in awe, running her hands through the short locks and twisting them around her fingers. “It looks amazing, Har. Handsome as ever.”

“Y'think so? Was scared you wouldn’t like it…” He mumbles shyly, looking away in embarrassment.

“You look as incredible as any celestial being ever could.” Y/N nudges his shoulder, kissing his cheek.

He blushes (because that’s the perfect thing for the god of the deceased to do) and grabs her hands, intertwining their fingers together. “So you wanted to have a heartfelt chat with me, is that it? That’s why you turned down ambrosia squares?”


Y/N returns his jesting smirk, nodding her head. “Yes, that’s why. But also, it’s because I wanted some alone time with you and I want to be able to–” she leans into his ear, her words causing a shiver down his spine–“scream and have no one hear me.”

Harry immediately stiffens up, staring at her with wide eyes because she’s rarely the most needy in the relationship, and having her practically jump into his pants as soon as she sees him is a new experience for him. She gazes up at him with hooded eyes, slipping the left sleeve of her dress further down her arm. She presses forward, lips latching to Harry’s like he’s a lifeline.

“Already?” He murmurs against her mouth, feeling her hands grasping wildly at his groin and he hisses quietly at her eagerness. “You’ve barely been here five minutes, love. A bit shameful, don’t y'think? And also, I thought–”

He gets cut off by Y/N sliding her tongue down his throat, her teeny whines causing his knees to disintegrate. “Bet you’ve only gotten bigger than before. Longer, thicker– fuck, just thinking about it makes me wanna come.”

Harry pulls away, gently detaching her from him and looking down at her with slight confusion because it’s all so sudden and unexpected.

“Are you sure you want to do this now? I thought we could wait a bit, y'know? Do something romantic, like a big feast for two and then walk through your gardens for a bit! Bathe afterwards and just let natural instincts take their course.” He hates himself for being such a sap with her but he can’t help it. And her letter had suggested she wanted this type of welcome so he had been looking forward to it.

“Harry, I love you and I absolutely want to do all of those things,” Y/N stares directly into his face with the biggest doe-eyes he’s ever seen, chewing at the corner of her mouth as her eyes flicker to his reddened lips and he can sense how desperate she is. “But I’ve been horny from the second I set foot on the first stair of the palace. I just can’t hold off. I just…I want you to fuck me, Har. Right here, right now. Please?”

He blinks at her for a couple of seconds, weighing in what she’s saying. He decides to go with it, fingers sliding the golden chains from her shoulders as she continues clutch his neck. “Alright, kitten. I understand.”

He stops when the dress is about to expose her chest. “You sure?”

“Yes.”

Harry grins coyly, poking fun at her. “Like I said, s'really only been, like, five minutes. No shame, hm?”

“Not at all, considering you haven’t been in me in barely six months.” She quips back sarcastically, shoving one hand up his toga all of the sudden and squeezing him hard, revering in his breathy whimper, which she stifles with her mouth.

“Now take me.” She whispers into the heavy kiss, reaching up to pop the emblem open so that she could pull down his toga to where it pools at his banded waist.

And that’s exactly what Harry does. He takes her right then and there, in front of his throne, with both of her wrists pinned down to the cold marble floor, her dress hiked up her creamy thighs and her breasts swelling out of her garment, crowns discarded besides an alter. He throws her legs around his hips, bucking into her roughly as she gives small gasps of pleasure, his cock pulsing against her softness. He’s bent over her, whispering dirty promises into her ear as he pinches her clit, grinning triumphantly into her neck.

“Tha’s my girl, yeah? Baby’s been gone and hasn’t had a good fucking in months, hm? Wants Daddy to take her right here? Want me to fuck a new sense into you, darling?” Harry’s voice is low and strained as he works on keeping himself from coming, all of those weeks of using his hand being nothing compared to her warmth and tightness. “Fuck, it’s been ages. You’re…you’re so good for me.”

Harry means that in every sense of the thought. Y/N’s good for him because she brings out the best qualities in his death-ridden heart, and she’s good for him in a sensual fashion, breaking him down molecule by molecule and stripping him of his sanity. She’s his complete opposite and he wouldn’t have the same spark with any other person.

Y/N wriggles her wrists in his hold, whining as she arches her back to be closer to him, wanting to be enveloped by his whole body. Harry releases her hands, which immediately go to his shoulders as his arms wrap under her lower back. She snakes her arms across them and down his back, digging her nails into the tight muscles under his toga, throwing her head back and letting out a loud, cracked moan. “Harry, I’m– fuck, you’re amazing.”

Harry licks a stripe up her throat, kissing at her chin as her legs spasm against his hips. “Such a good girl for me, Y/N. Such a tight, sweet little thing…Missed you s'much– missed this so much.”

“F…Fuck me,” she whispers, her voice feathery and desperate.

Harry reaches above her, hands wrapping around the thick legs of his throne, the solid celestial bronze nailed down into the floor so that the chair works as a reinforcement. He pulls upward, arms flexing alluringly as he thrusts hard into Y/N, causing her to scream out.

“Want– to– make–you–feel–so good.” Harry grits out with every slam, head dropping down to allow him to peck chaste kisses onto her swollen lips. The sweat is making his eyes bleary and causing curls to stick to his forehead, but he doesn’t care. She’s here, pliant and slick and begging him for it and nothing else is important other than her.

A meek whine comes from Y/N, her head turning to give Harry access to her neck. He sucks the skin into his mouth, teething until he sees mauve and purple bruises blossom across her delicate throat. He’s panting against her jaw, small choking sounds scratching his throat raw as his thighs clench with every thrust.

“Did you…?” Hades swallows thickly, his sentence cut off by his mouth falling open as she gives a hard squeeze around his length. “Gods, jus’ like that, pet. Squeeze me nice and snug– tha’s it, kitten. So good for me, hm?”

Y/N nods vigorously, hands diving into the hair along his neck and she yanks him closer, noses nudging and breathing mingling. “So big, H. You’re so fucking big and it’s been so long and–”

Harry quiets her with one of his hands, his thumb sliding into the dip of her rough tongue. His gaze is trained on her face, watching as her eyes lull shut as she moans wetly around the digit.

“Suck for me. Can you do that?” Hades mumbles, biting onto his lower lip with fervor as she wraps her plump lips around the circumference of his finger.

“Mmm…” Y/N hums groggily and he can feel the tug of his skin in her mouth as she sucks excitedly, eyes fluttering open all wide and innocent.

“Shit, Y/N, just– just fuck me.” He whimpers brokenly, licking up her jaw to nibble at her left earlobe.

“Feels incredible…” She glubs over his thumb, tiny hiccups of pleasure bouncing against the far walls of the room with every hard slam Harry gives his hips. One of her hands fumbles with the one in her mouth, tugging at it weakly.

He lets her take it, watching as she presses it to her right breast, taking the same wet thumb and passing it over her nipple a couple of times. The shutter that racks her spine leaves her feeling lightheaded and airy, and she gives an encouraging hum. Harry adapts to her request, releasing his hard hold on the leg of the throne and using both hands to cup her chest, bringing them together and giving a long lap to each pebbled nipple. He uses his forefinger along with his thumb, tweaking the tiny nubs and staring at her, mesmerized by the face of sheer rapture her features mold into.

Hades leans down, pressing his warm, wet lips to her ear, his exhales causing her skin to grow red with need. “Did you touch yourself?”

Persephone hesitates for a second, and then nods bashfully.

He grins, humming with amusement. “How often?”

“Almost every night…” Her answer is soft and wistful, as if recalling a fond memory.

He teethes the curve of the shell of her ear, blowing on the wet patch it leaves. “Me too.”

She gasps gently as he gives a hard push and doesn’t relent back, keeping her on edge. The worn marble ground bites at his knees as he remains stationary, buried to the hilt inside her. His fingers pinch the buds of her breasts harder, his body in love with the way she thrashes against him.

“Sometimes I couldn’t sleep,” he continues, voice sultry and low, like blood-red velvet. “I would toss and turn all night, finally just laying on my stomach and staring at the tall headboard, all hot and hard. There would be nights where my hand just wasn’t good enough, so I’d grind my hips into the mattress, holding your pillow close so I could smell you as I did my best to come.”

Y/N’s breathing has gotten faster, her hips wiggling from side to side to try and pry her own pleasure from his unrelenting cock. He won’t move and she can feel him twitching inside her and she needs him to keep fucking her. But he won’t– he’s getting off way more from torturing her with his words.

“Harry, please. Wanna come…” Her eyes are swelling with tears from how destressed she’s grown, her hands grabbing his sharp jaw in her palms so she can force him to see how wrecked she is.

He simply smirks, ignoring her pleading. “Sometimes it would hit me while I was bathing. Those didn’t take as long though– the warm water helped a lot. I’d just rub one out nice and quick, leaning against the cold wall and gasping out your name, imagining your pretty little mouth taking me all the way in.”

Y/N is a shaking disaster, her hands hugging him to her so hard he was sure she was unknowingly tapping into her godly strength. Her gaze is set on the extravagant chandelier above them, all of the multicolored jewels embedded around different curved rails reflecting a kaleidoscope of shades onto their connected bodies. The flames of the candles on the source of light seem to grow dimmer, her eyesight getting more and more blurry by the second as she feels her release bubbling and churning at the pit of her stomach, clawing at anything it can get, which includes her ability to see straight. The cold floor against her backside suddenly becomes prominent, the contrasting temperatures making her head swim with ecstasy.

“Tell me about it.” Harry wraps one of his arms fully under her lower back, the other reaching up to stroke his knuckles against her cheekbone. He cups his fingers under chin and jaw, thumbing over her cheek and lips, infatuated with the ruby redness of her skin.

“I…I don’t–” Persephone begins weakly, shaking her head faster because she knows if she talks about it, she’ll implode entirely.

“Tell me, Y/N. Tell me how you fucked yourself with me in mind.” Hades slowly begins to push his hips back and forth again, euphoria inflating her muscles and causing her to yawp. “Just tell me and I’ll fuck you so hard, you won’t even remember what you said.”

She swallows heavily, mouth slightly agape with shallow inhales and exhales. Her eyes refuse to meet his, focusing on the intricate designs of the wall instead. “I…I used my fingers–”

He interrupts spontaneously, turning her head forward so that their eyes are level. “Look at me. Want you looking at me when you confess all of the naughty things you did.”

She just nods her head docilely, chewing on her bottom lip as he begins to speed up, toga draping down his body loosely with his hair flopping around and his tan skin simmering to the touch. He breathes in deeply, opening them with leisure. The look behind them is predatory with nothing but sheer lust.

“Go on, then. What’d my baby girl do without me beside her?”

“I used my fingers.” Y/N repeats quietly, eyes rolling back into her head as Harry suckles along the subtle dip of her collarbones. “And I–fuck, I…rubbed myself.”

He nods encouragingly, moving to bite down on her lower lip, pulling it away and allowing it to snap back into place. “You miss my mouth any?”

She digs her nails harder into his back muscles, feeling them flex under her fingertips. “Yes. Wanted you doing it…”

“I’ll do one better.” Harry leans back onto his heels, grinding his hips so that his cock slicks in and out of her fast and hard. He places one arm behind him for balance, using the hand on the other to slap Y/N’s dripping clit. Her reaction is immediate, body arching off the ground as he forces her legs to stay down. He slaps faster, pinching every now and then and letting his head fall back, neck vein protruding across his clammy skin.

“Little longer, peach. Warm little cunt gonna make me come so hard. Gonna take all of me in there and love every drop, yeah?” Harry gives a particularly hard smack to her folds, grunting heavily as she cries out excitedly.

It doesn’t take long at all for her to release, body slumping into the cold, shiny ground with her brain floating around high above the ceiling with the chandelier. Harry coaxes her through it, falling forward again so that his forearms are on either side of her head as he presses his nose to the underside of her jaw, pooling light kisses and mumbling encouragement. His hair tickles her cheeks, the smell of cinnamon and sandalwood evading her nose and causing her to melt.

“Tha’s my girl. Squeeze fo’ me– little more, sweetheart, c'mon. Daddy’s got you.”

He rides out his own orgasm, gasping and mewling lightly as he feels his balls tightening and then release in a flush of warmth. He gasps out as he feels the first ribbon of come spurt out thickly, trickling into her steadily as he continues to fuck her limp body.

“Oh, Gods, I’m–oooh, fucking hell!” His eyes squeeze shut as his whole face crinkles in pleasure, a hand fisting her hair as his hips jerk spastically against her’s.

He slides the other hand under the backside of one of her knees, hiking it up until it’s at the level of her navel, opening her up fully to be filled completely. He sports a tiny, wistful smile, drunk off his climax as he nips across her chin and with each word, he thrusts the last couple of times. “So– fucking– hot.”

Harry pulls out slowly, hearing her whimper quietly at the sudden emptiness. He sees himself spilling out of Y/N and begins chuckling as if he were high off his ass, giggling against her chin and blinking up at her with shining, watery green irises, the tiny specks of gold winking like stars. “So full of me. Won’t be able to get me out of your veins for days. Y'smell like me already…”

He sneaks two fingers between her thighs, bringing them up to his mouth and licking at her dripping release. “So sweet fo’ me.”

“Need–” she swallows, moistening the sandpaper that is her throat and blinking the black spots from her sight. “Need a cool bath. And you and wine and cuddles.”

And who was he to deny her that? He pushes himself up onto wobbly feet, gaining stability soon enough. He adjusts his toga, clipping the emblem back together and tugging it loose around his legs. The sweat had really done a number on the silk cloth. Leaning down, he slides his arms under her back and legs, scooping her up bridal style. She wishes she could move, but she literally cannot feel her legs and she quite likes being a right “damsel in distress” for a little bit if it gets Harry to carry her up a flight of stairs and into a tub.

“You’re burning up and I don’t think it has to do with your godliness…” Harry coons playfully, voice echoing around the bathing chamber as he slips the soft shimmering fabric of her sleeves down her sweaty arms, kissing each of her shoulders gently. He buries his face in her neck as he eases her out of the dress fully, large hands coasting down her arms and around her waist to cup her bottom. He gives it a good squeeze, breaking into laughter when she gives a sudden jump. “Hundreds of years old and still got it.”

Y/N shoves his shoulder, glaring daggers at him as he shrugs it off like it’s nothing, attempting to hide his shit-eating grin. She dips into the cool, bubbling water of the obsidian tub, sinking down up to her nose.

Harry leans his shoulder against the chamber wall, a small, fond smile warming his lips. She stares up at him, blowing bubbles into the water and wiggling her eyebrows childishly.

He chuckles lightly. “Gods, I missed you. Don’t think I can express it enough.”

Y/N floats over and sits on the stone step that circles the inside circumstance of the small pool, patting the water next to her in a signal for him to join her.

“Can’t seem to stop getting me naked, can ya, love?” He unlaces his sandals, toeing them off as he undoes the golden rope around his waist that holds his toga to his body. He pulls the garment over his head, tossing it in the general direction of a marble bench.

He descends into the churning water, going under and paddling towards her. His head breaks the surface, hair matted to his neck and head, covering his face completely. Y/N pushes it back, revealing the silly face he’s making underneath. She draws him closer, sponging her lips to his nose and giggling as he scoops her into his lap, head cuddling against his strong chest.

Hades’ chin rests atop Persephone’s wet hair as he caresses her back, feeling his heart swell in his chest. The couple sit there for a while, naked bodies pressed together, yet there is nothing sexual about it anymore. It’s innocent and sweet, filled with stories about their time apart and splash fights and Harry’s stupid jokes that Y/N rolls her eyes at but secretly loves. And Harry sits there, staring down at her laughing face with her nose scrunched up and her teeth showing and he knows he would never stop loving her.

Not in a thousand years, which he freely has to spare.

________________________________

A/N: ahhhHHHHHH HADES HARRY IS MY FAVORITE THING. I hope you guys like this! I haven’t been writing much lately and I apologize for that but I’m trying to get back into a routine of it :-) thank you so much for reading and for your patience and support and feel free to drop by my inbox with opinions❤️☺️

- Andrea :)

Something I really appreciate about the new BATB film is that the costumes managed to (1) pay perfect homage to the original color tones and styles as seen in the animation and yet (2) carry symbolic changes and account for characters’ personalities, while also (3) being period appropriate. Like, wow. Major kudos to the costume designer and associated staff on this one.  

For example, let’s just talk about Beast/Prince wardrobe, which I find really interesting and beautiful. BATB begins with a dance, and the Prince is in this very dark, regal yet kind of gaudy clothing, standing out from the sea of women in white. (He’s also wearing a makeup mask, which is just another awesome layer of symbolism and era-appropriateness that I will not go into right now.) 

Throughout the film, Beast’s clothes get progressively lighter: from dark, torn rags (like he’s a criminal, a prisoner in his own palace) to the iconic lighter blue suit at the dance…to the moment Belle declares her love and they’re both dressed in all white (in this case, a symbol of purity and absolution)…to the very end, where the Prince wears blue again, but this time it’s the lightest shade of blue we see him wear. This change also reminds me of the trailer, where the word “Beast” in the title grows lighter as it gets closer to the word “Belle”. Beast’s subtle clothing changes represent the changes in his disposition and character. His wardrobe follows the path of the curse, from its inception to completion, as the castle goes from dark to light, from winter to spring, from death to life. 

The two other dance scenes are also important. 

When Belle and Beast dance together for the first time, Belle is the one who stands out in that stunning yellow dress. When Beast lets her go, her yellow dress positively pops in an otherwise monochrome, snow-covered forest, like a beacon in the night. And as he watches her go, he returns to rags, representing his hope leaving him behind.

In contrast, when Belle and the Prince dance together at the end, they both stand apart from the crowd but for different reasons than before. Unlike their first dance, this time the Prince is the one who shines the most in an otherwise temperate crowd, which parallels the opening dance scene. Unmasked, the Prince is in a light blue and white suit, the opposite of how he dressed before; and yet, this ending suit almost matches how Belle was dressed at the beginning of the movie, in her classic blue and white dress. Meanwhile, although at first glance Belle’s mostly white dress at the end might make her appear like just another girl in the crowd, she really stands out due to the roses on her dress, like a physical manifestation of spring coming back to the castle and the curse being lifted. 

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If Iris and Ravus Were Party Members... (Banter)

She’s quite a popular choice, so let’s throw the cutie Iris into the mix! :D
@neko-otaku13


Iris: “Wow, it’s really great to be able to travel with you guys! It’s like our own adventure.”
Gladiolus: “Just be careful, okay? Lot of monsters out there, ya know.”
Iris: “I’ll be fine, Gladdy. I have all of you guys here!”
Noctis: “Yeah. Totally.”
Prompto: “For sure!”
Ignis: “You are safe in our hands.”
Ravus: “I cannot make any promises.”

Ravus: “Amicitia.”
Iris & Gladiolus: “Yeah?”
Ravus: “…I suddenly had the horrible realization that there are two of you now.”

Iris: “So you’re Lady Luna’s brother, right? That means you’re from Tenebrae!”
Ravus: “It seems the Amicitia intelligence runs in the family…”
Iris: “What are the flowers like there? I heard the Sylleblossoms are beautiful in Tenebrae.”
Ravus: “They are beautiful, that fact remains true. Seas of blue and violet that spread all across the land.”
Iris: “Do you ever miss Tenebrae…?”
Ravus: “Yes… Just as you most likely yearn to return to Insomnia.”

Iris: “So only Prompto gets to call you Rae, right?”
Ravus: “It was not my desire to be named as such…”
Iris: “Can I give you a nickname too?”
Gladiolus: “Yeah, Ravus. Can she?
Ravus: “…Yes. You may give me a ‘nickname.’”
Iris: “Ravvy it is then!”
Ravus: “What? No-“
Noctis: “Ravvy, huh?”
Ignis: “It has a charming ring to it.”
Ravus: “What have I done to deserve this…?”


Ravus: “Amicitia.”
Iris & Gladiolus: “What’s up?”
Ravus: “…Alright. I need a method to distinguish one Amicitia from another.”
Gladiolus: “You could just call us by our first names.”
Ravus: “And allow you to think that I am being pleasant with you? Absolutely not.” 

Ravus: “Brute.”
Gladiolus: “What?”
Iris: “Wow, he really did respond to it. You’re not supposed to answer to such mean names, Gladdy!”
Ravus: “I was showing honesty when I claimed that he would. He has become soft and weak. I leave his rehabilitation to amend this issue to you now.”
Iris: “Roger that, Commander!”
Gladiolus: *sighs*

Ravus: “Amictia.”
Iris & Gladiolus: “What is it?”
Ravus: *heavy sigh* “The little Amicitia.”
Iris: “Yeah, Ravvy?”
Ravus: “Please cease referring to me as that…”

Iris: “CRSSH. Little Amicitia, making contact with Sunshine Boy. Over. CRSSH.”
Prompto: “CRSSH. Sunshine Boy to Little Amicitia. Doing alive, doing well. Nice, nice. Over. CRSSH.”
Iris: “CRSSH. Roger that, Sunshine Boy. CRSSH. Commander R, what’s your status? Over. CRSSH.”
*the two stare expectantly at Ravus*
Ravus: … *heavy sigh* “Commander R, wishing for a quick death. Over… CRSSH.”

Ravus: “You are quite agile in battle, Little Amicitia. It is extremely impressive.”
Iris: “Thanks! Gladdy’s the one that helped me train. Because one day, I’ll be the best bodyguard in the Amicitia clan.”
Ravus: “I would certainly trust my life in your hands that I would your idiotic brother.”
Gladiolus: “You gotta stop bagging on me in front of my sister, Ravus.”
Prompto: “Actually, he does have a point. I sometimes wonder if I can trust you, big guy.”
Gladiolus: “Shut up, Prompto…”

Ravus: “Little Amicitia, was that a moogle I saw you throwing in our last fight?”
Iris: “You like it? It’s the perfect distraction to help out Noct and the others, right?”
Ravus: “It… Has its own charm, I suppose.”
Iris: “Want me to make you one too~?”
Ravus: “…I would enjoy such a gift, actually. Thank you.”
Iris: “Of course!”

Games and Piercings Part 2

Since so many of you asked so kindly, here we are my lovely starlings! All the love to @ohwhataprettypinkhat for being my friend and helping me so much to add to her lovely prompt. You’re the real MVP here!

           The planet was interesting to say the least. It wasn’t humanoid enough to mistake it for earth. But it also wasn’t foreign enough to mistake it for another alien planet. It was a strange disorientating mix. Though Lance could feel the extra gravity weighing on him, his arm was buzzing with a strange numbness too that felt heavier than the rest of his body. The lion on his arm almost feeling like it was real and digging into his shoulder and not just alien ink.

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