MUSE OLYMPUS

lolo. xoxo. libra. my little muse family. replies spontaneously at best. for: arcadianiisms

[museolympus]

where: ? you choose maybe his bedroom oooo who: madigan & luca tagging: @arcadianiisms

She’s said it once, and she’ll say it again, but the land smells fucking gross. Smells aren’t a thing in the ocean unless you breach the surface, it’s all about temperature. Warm streams, cold ones, they tell you exactly what part of the ocean you’re in, or you’re headed. Madi missed that, more than anything else - the land was trash. At least the stars were the same.

What wasn’t trash, unfortunately, was this boy. This boy, with his gorgeous hair and gorgeous eyes and gorgeous-ness that Madigan needed to have for herself like yesterday.  This boy, who unfortunately someone elses. And Madigan was stuck here, a wealthy, lonely, friend. What was the point of trading her long hair for legs if Madi wasn’t getting a human boy to tell her what that thing between  her legs was. In light blue crop top and tight white shorts, Madigan props her head up on her chin and gazes eyes that are no longer opal at her warlockian FRIEND. “Luca. Watching guppies was more interesting than this what’re you even doing.”

[grinsekatze]

#for science

[hithewalls]

[museolympus]

arcadianiisms‌:

Setting the glass of water aside, Lianne stood up with as much grace and stability she could muster in high inch heels. She was dressed to entice, to remind Prosper who really owned his heart. Putting as much skin as she could on display in her little black dress, she tried to look as casual as she possibly could. “Well, I’m glad you had fun with her. But…” A pregnant pause hung in the air, as she sauntered towards Prosper. “…I don’t see her here with you. So how lovely was it really, I wonder…” 

There was no hesitation in the steps she took to cross the distance between the two of them, till she was close enough to feel his heat, to reach out a finger and stroke his jawline. A sudden sting of jealousy pinged through her heart. Mine. But Lianne wouldn’t let it show. No, she couldn’t let him see how much an effect he still had on her. Even though she was here, in his home, dressed up for him, trying to entice him. 

“Did you kiss her, Prosper? Did you tell her you’d be seeing her again?” Her finger trailed from jaw to chin, not daring to go up his lip. Even though every part of her wanted nothing more than to kiss him, to reclaim what is rightfully hers. And she knows how that would go, with his hands holding her in place as he showed her who was in charge of her body. But for now, maybe this would have to do. “I wonder if she knows that you have someone warming your bed already, my darling dearest…” A pointed glance towards the cold brick of a phone that she supposed would be tucked into his pockets already. 

Somehow, Prosper never lost the upper hand. He was always too grateful that his position in their relationship never stopped him from being able to drink in his fill of her long legs, to let his eyes speak to the thoughts whirling in his head every time he set eyes on the pint sized, currently incensed woman who’d he’d decided on years ago. Despite everything he was so proud of the fact that Lianne didn’t wobble on her heels like she would’ve before they’d met as she came towards him, though his face didn’t tell that story. Instead, a small tick  slides up  the right side of his mouth, smooth chin and upraised eyebrow when  she approached him. “It was so lovely, Julianne, that I was careful to keep it that way. The nighttime is volatile. You never know what could occur.” 

Unspoken were the words this could occur, as in her waiting for him to get back to his own apartment. As in the fact that only one woman in the world was granted unfettered access to his inner sanctum and that woman did not like when Prosper was seen out with women that weren’t her. His eyes smoldered as her finger drew over the lines of his form, fighting every last one of his cells that wanted to lean in. Prosper didn’t lose their little games after all. “I kissed her cheek. I told her I had a great time. I sent her home.” 

He tapped a fingertip at the underside of her chin, anticipating her tilt up. “Non exclusively. Though the rest of the night, however, can exclusively be yours. With a little recompense for just  showing up at my place. That’s showing your cards, kit.” Prosper tsked under his breath, leaning down so that every word ghosted on her mouth. When he was done talking he abruptly pulled back, walking around her to head further into his condo, undoing his belt. “What is it you’re looking for, hmm?”

[museolympus]

arcadianiisms‌:

By all accounts, Gage didn’t have to be here anymore. He was done for the day, he made his polite exchanges, and he could just be on his merry way. But there was an anger bubbling inside him, disguised under the facade of uncaring. He was angry with Kinsey, angry with her dumbass boy toy, angry with himself. He had been flirting with this girl, and the possibility that she was taken hadn’t even run through his mind. He would have lashed out somehow, breaking a million things and screaming. 

But he was a reformed man. Putting reformed in a lot of brackets. He was lashing out in his head, and it would only be a matter of time till it became physical. So with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, Gage smiled at the asshole named Hayes, and nodded. “Yeah man, I get that. She’s an incredible one. And a nice piece of ass, if I do say so myself.” His eyes glancing towards Kinsey, before back at Hayes. “Like I said, you two have a good time tonight. Stay out of the horse house because one of them is feeling very….angsty. Might even kick if spoken to.” 

Kinsey wasn’t in the right. She knew it, had been knew that she wasn’t in the right, but she hadn’t been able to stop herself from doing it. She remembered her first time laying eyes on Gage with a clarity that she could never assign Hayes - it had been early, too early for people who didn’t work there to be around, and she’d been leaving the Big House. Her dad, the only one in their house who’d always be up before Kinsey, was the first one that caught her eye, all broad confidence and bushy blonde beard that she’d seen for as  long as she could remember, with his arm around someone else, striding across the yard. The rising sun had hit warm light on the curls of the man her dad was with, and it had caught her eye. Roman nose, curly hair, a bruising eye and sensual lips...Kinsey was hooked.

And now here she was, definitively on the hook, clearly very torn. She knew exactly what Gage was saying, saw that clench in his jaw, knew that the physical manifestation of her boyfriend plus her having to dismiss him was akin to kicking him when he was down. She sucked. She hella sucked. Seeing him turn around, Kinsey sent her attention to Hayes. “Babe, look, I promised my dad I would finish a few things up for him...can we meet later?” 

“I came all the way down here and you can’t make time for me? C’mon Kinsey.”

“I’m sorry. You know I don’t break my promises.” At least, not to her dad. 

It had turned into a little fight, between the two of them, and in about fifteen minutes Hayes had left again. When  he’d be back, Kinsey didn’t know, but she’d bet it wouldn’t be for a while.  In the interest of saving herself time, she put her phone on do not disturb and shoved it in the back pocket of her tight jeans. It was time to apologize. Slipping a lock of dark hair behind her ear she heads to where she saw Gage head, eventually tracking him  down. “Hey. So uh. Yeah. You weren’t meant to...y’know.”

[museolympus]

arcadianiisms‌:

Trixie had always thought herself too pragmatic for romance, and for partners. She has always been living on the edge, tiptoeing at the line of living and surviving. So being in a relationship was a flavour she hadn’t tried before. Not like it mattered, because more than loving him, she trusted Lake. If he asked her to jump, she would only ask how high. The little update hadn’t gone unnoticed by her, but labels were still a thing the woman was getting used to, and for now, she just wanted him. 

There really was no other way to look, but forward and onward. 

She yelped in surprise when she felt her weight being lifted, hands gripping tight to the fabric of his t-shirt and they kissed, in abandon and desperation. She wanted him so bad, she hadn’t even realised how much, just wanting more and more of him, till he pulled back and she found herself reluctant to let go, urging her eyes open. “I missed you so much too, babe. Fuck…” Her hands were slow, exploring the back of his neck and softly tugging at his hair as her doe like eyes looked deeply into his. “I missed you so fucking much, daddy.” His hand on her ass served to make her yelp again, pushing her into his arms even further as she blushed. “I’m afraid I can’t smell it over all that cologne you’re wearing, Prince. What did you do, pour the whole bottle?” Trixie teased, finally letting her hands drop back down to his shoulders. “It smells really good. Tell me it’s meat and potatoes, daddy. Tell me you know the way into my heart..” 

Lifting Trixie had always been easy, even before they were in an official relationship of any sort. He’s an idiot who still remembers all those times hanging out at Dare’s house, hugging his younger sister, lifting her off the ground so that she squealed, and here he was, years later, doing exactly the same thing. Albeit, this time, with much naughtier goals. 

His chocolate eyes go melted soft when Trixie’s little fingers rub at the back of his neck, twirling at the nape of his overly long dark hair. That softness, however, has  nothing to do with the blush that flows over his girlfriends cheeks when he squeezes her ass. “It’s good to have you back. A lot harder to keep you out of trouble when you’re far away from me.” Lake scoffs a bit at her tease, kissing her hard once more before he lets her back down to the ground. “That’s all natural, baby girl, and you know it. Absolutely that’s meat and potatoes. Let’s go eat.” Checking to make sure the door is locked behind her, he smacks her ass and heads to the kitchen. Not only did he miss her, but Lake was a very big fan of the way their reunion would do tonight.

[prettyvixenavenue]

being me is so expensive. but i like her a lot

[kendalsroy]

[laughstrack]

olivia_holt: 3 moods tonight

[labella-instagram]

[birdasaurus]

[museolympus]

arcadianiisms‌:

who: lourdes x jericho where: lourdes’s very large apartment tagging: @museolympus​

“Okay, so I have this gorgeous Donna Karan that I got from a client. Pretty sure it’s outdated as fuck, so I treat it like a vintage keepsake. Oh Oliver, I miss you everyday, sweetie.” Lourdes shrugged, as she gave Jericho a whirl around her walk in closet, turning lights on as she walked through the space. Picking the dress out of the hanging closet, she let the light shine over the red fabric, before handing it over to Jericho. 

“So, where’s the party man? Please tell me I can come along too! My mother’s coming into town, and I’d rather be anywhere but here with her.” She pouted and then made herself at home on the carpeted floor. “I’ll even call my personal stylist for us! It’ll be so cool! Please, please, please let me come with?” 

Jeri’s eyes weren’t actually physically capable of morphing into stars, but when  she looked at Lourdes Buchanan she felt an awful lot like she was meeting her favorite celebrity. Lourdes was the kind of person Jeri longed to be - effortlessly and truly confident, capable of getting men to do things for her even before getting her beauty involved, successful, and well off. So, so not poor, something that Jeri had wanted so badly her mouth metaphorically watered at the very thought of it. Sitting here at the blonde’s table, the lights of the city winking outside her large windows, Jeri was kind of in adoration mode.

“It’s nothing too cool, I just heard about this club downtown that I hadn’t hit yet...” she’d heard about it from the man she’d most recently become a sidepiece of, a stock trader who didn’t spend as much money on her as she liked but was still awfully pretty to look it. Jeri and Lorenzo had bumped into Lourdes and her on-again-off-again, not boyfriend type person Nick during a fancy party and had exchanged real contact info. She felt honored just to be in her presence. “You have a - a personal stylist?” The dark haired girl breathed, adoration stoking up a tick higher. “I mean I would love for you to come, if you want to.” Inwardly, Jeri felt kind of stressed about the fact that it wouldn’t be cool enough for Lourdes, but the idea was on the table now.

[xslowly]

[museolympus]

arcadianiisms‌:

She might not have approved of the way Dare found out who Trixie had been seeing over the better part of the last two years, but she was in the same opinion as Lake; it was freeing to just be able to talk about him without having to worry about her brother somehow knowing. She knew that fundamentally, her hooking up with Lake Prince was a bad move. But the pussy wants what it wants, and for some reason, hers just want him. 

(And maybe her heart is also involved, but Trixie stopped listening to that one a long time ago.) 

Trixie was dressed up, unusual from her leather getups and the motorcycle helmet that made itself home under her arm. She was in a dress, something cute and appropriate for dinner, but without the panties and the sad fact that the dress left no room for a bra. Riding the bike like that had definitely given her the pick me up she needed before she showed up at her…boyfriend’s front door, taking one last look in the sideview mirror to make sure her short hair was nice and in place. And she unzipped her moto jacket, and decided to make her way up the stairs to his place. 

She never is prepared to see Lake; she hates calling it a rom-com moment, where time slows and it’s just the two of them. But it always fucking is. Trixie isn’t weak at the knees, but he just makes her want to be the most basic bitch there ever has existed. The brunette is wide eyed for a second, just taking in all of Lake’s attire before he speaks, and her expression changes from fascination to a smirk of all knowing; after all, she’s a cool girl, and cool girls don’t feel enamoured by their paramours. “There’s my fucking daddy…” She crosses the threshold, like she’s done a million times before. 

It was still crazy to him that Lake was here, after so long swearing off any attachments that could hurt him like his dad did, but Trixie Wyler had made it under his skin without him having a choice in the matter. He couldn’t pinpoint the moment when he’s started to look forward to the next moment he could steal with her, when she became the only woman in his thoughts when he was alone, but it had happened, and they were here, and he’d logged into his facebook for the first time in fucking months to change his status to in a relationship. 

This whole thing was way too fucking new for someone of his age, but he couldn’t help that. Nowhere to go but forward.

Reaching down, Lake went straight for Trixie’s ass, lifting her up and letting his door slam shut behind her. Pushing a hair into her short dark locks, he let the other hand hold her up as he kissed the bejesus out of her, all insistent lips and playfully biting teeth. When he felt satisfied, he pulled back and fake snapped at her ear, the look in his eyes soft. “Missed you, Trix.” His deep voice went through his chest as he spoke, timed with the full cheek grab of her ass. “I made  ya dinner. Though you can probably smell it.”

[museolympus]

arcadianiisms‌:

How in the fucking world did Peter find himself in this situation? When he had first made contact with Ilya Korovin, the gig was to get into the man’s inner circle, expose his dirty deeds and come home a saviour. After all, the undercover life suited him better than civilian life, after all the pain and loneliness that crime had cost him. And so he found himself walking the hot coals of proving himself useful to the kingpin, till he was given the keys to one of the doors; his own wife, Erin. 

Now, don’t get it twisted; Peter has never loved anything in his life. He’s lost too much to fall for it again, and these days he’s more married to his job than a poor woman who wouldn’t see him for half their relationship. And he’s not sure what kind of game Ilya’s wife is playing at, but he doesn’t like it one bit. He sees her flirting, the way her body rolls when his eyes fall on her. She’s used to being treated like a prize, and if there’s one thing about kingpins and their prizes, is that they talk. For the right incentive. 

So he would play the part of the beguiled bodyguard, charmed by the vixen that was before him, dressed in something wasteful and expensive, nothing that Peter would find attractive at all (but he couldn’t lie, she did look good in it). “Uhh…wow.” He shakes his head, trying not to stare at what he can see beyond the lingerie. “You look beautiful in it. Ilya is a very lucky man, my love. I am so jealous of your man.”

Depending on how much you weighed the lack of freedom, the amount of murder and corruption she witnessed and was an accomplice to on the regular, and personal and moral sacrifices Ilya had forced her to make over and over through the years, there were a couple of things that weren’t the worst about it. All Erin had to do was ask, and it would be done, or procured. Money, time, or legality was no object, and when she was too damn bored with normal shopping and wanted to have some private time in one of her favorite lingerie stores, Ilya made it happen for her. Sure, it wasn’t exactly her dream to be shopping with two armed guards, but. You can’t have everything, she supposed.

She knew that the warm pink lighting of the dressing room was refracting off every inch of the sparkly ensemble and couldn’t help the butterflies she had. Damn her and all her jaded parts, but she wanted Peter to like it. Looking sexy in front of Ilya had become old news years ago, but with Peter it was still new.  She wanted to see him sweat, get a little hot under the collar. Erin wanted this more than she perhaps should, and preened a bit under his head shake. “Don’t be too jealous,” she mutters, smoothing a lock of hair behind her ear. “He’s been gone for a couple weeks, so who know when he will see this. I’m way more excited about you seeing it first. Look!” Twirling, Erin gave him a full view of the fact that there was no fabric on her  ass at all, and the tiny clasp at her back. “And don’t talk about him, he’s such a buzzkill.” Even while pouting, Erin wasn’t a fool - she kept her voice down. Her other gun toting shadows weren’t as far away as they could be, and she was still no fool.

[6flex]

[haleyjames]

Inbar Lavi behind the scenes of her latest photoshoot, posted via her Instagram story (January 2020)