I Will Look At U With My Big Doe Eyes … And U Will Pay For My Iced Coffee

@singofus asked : Hypnos wraps his arms around Maggie in a gentle cuddle.

he  touches  her  and  it  all  stops  . 

her  body  ,  still  shivering  from  the  cold  ,  immediately  melts  into  his  touch  .  she  feels  like  she  can  breathe  again  ,  deep  gasps  that  expand  her  lungs  all  the  way  as  he  thaws  her  back  to  life  .  frozen  hands  reach  for  the  blanket  ,  holding  ,  grounding  ,  rubbing  the  soft  fabric  until  she  can  breathe  again  . 

yellow  eyes  ,  pupils  wide  with  delirium  ,  look  to  his  face  ,  where  she  slowly  calms  .  her  breath  settles  ,  her  body  warming  back  to  normal  as  she's  tucked  in  against  him  . 

she  doesn't  know  what  happened  -  if  something  latched  onto  her  from  the  last  time  she  went  there  ,  to  the  perpetually  flooded  valley  of  his  domain  ,  only  to  strike  now  ,  but  at  least  she  doesn't  feel  like  she's  drowning  on  land  anymore  . 

tears  fall  as  she  theorizes  what  she  had  been  feeling  .  the  last  panicked  memories  of  dreams  ?  the  nightmares  born  from  those  memories  ?  hypnos'  own  helplessness  as  he  felt  his  realm  weaken , himself unmade  ? 

she  doesn't  know  ,  but  she  feels  better  now  .  she  buries  her  face  against  his  neck  ,  feeling  every  bit  an  imposter  queen  . 

she'll  dry  her  tears  in  a  bit  .  for  now  ,  she  only  murmurs  soft  apologies  .  not  for  her  actions  ;  but  for  ,  impossible  as  it  is  ,  not  being  able  to  have  helped  him  through  that  . 

Forget thinking about the descriptor “soft eyed” for Hypnos. It’s so,,, yes. That’s him. Soft eyed. That gentle loving gaze only your most beloved can give you. Soft eyed Hypnos my beloved.

sleepy sex where i can barely keep my eyes open and his hand is in my pants rubbing my clit and hes caressing my hair. yes please

maggie had some thoughts about how to spend this sunday, let's just say that

“there is a boy at the 7/11 who always knows what I need when I come in at odd hours of the night. when my clothes are half on and my head is half off, he remembers my name when I can’t. I wonder what to name his small magic, it is too important to me to go without calling it something.”

— thankful writings from the weariest || O.L. (via poetbitesback)

⋆｡‧˚ʚ holybent ɞ˚‧｡⋆ —  selective,  private,  &  independent  writing  blog  for  the  original  character  of  magissa, daughter of hermes & circe, goddess of psychedelics, the waking dream state, and subconscious messages.  created  and  cradled  by  atlas  (they/them,  twenty8,  gmt  -4).  shaped  by  &  grounded  in  historical  greek  mythos,  original  lore,  &  madeline  miller's  circe. 

𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓.  𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐒.  𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄.  𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒.

a study in — the  nature  of  secrets,  the  weight  of  generational  trauma,  what  makes  a  family,  gods  &  fear,  purifying  feminine  rage,  breaking  the  cycle,  love  in  unlikely  places,  diamonds  in  the  rough,  femme  in  relationship,  reveling  in  entropic  systems,  being  raised  by  lions,  being  a  daddy's  girl,  &  leaving  claw  marks  on  everything  you  touch. 

lounging in the poison garden with:  @singofus  @nectaric

dni:  anyone who uses generative ai, blogs with harry potter/jkr muses, under  20,  antis,  zionists,  racists,  terfs/transphobes,  homophobes,  or  any  other  kind  of  bigot.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍑🍒🍄 ꒱ ˎˊ˗

A Forest’s Reflection

(and close-ups under the cut)

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*:･ﾟ･✧✧･ﾟ･:*

Hypnos